He hurt all over, especially along his left side, the bottom rib. Mike blinked and focused bleary eyes on the strip of sky visible through the blinds of the window to his left. Gray but bright. Clouds then. Probably afternoon. Where am I and what’s going on?
After a moment, memories began to return. The freaky call, the drive out toward Chambers Lake, the pickup that almost looked like Jeff’s, but wasn’t. Hank Filmore. Oh, s**t. Jeff’s going to think I set something up and it went bad. What else could he think?
If he hadn’t been so damn weak and sore, he’d have been out of the bed and hunting for a phone. He needed to talk to Jeff. Just then a nurse came in, one of the falsely smiling ones who talked to you like you were in kindergarten.
“Well, good afternoon. Are we feeling better now?
