CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Timeless
Between Alive and Dead
He drifted, listening to sounds that were just beyond his hearing. There seemed to be voices murmuring somewhere nearby.
Then it seemed to him that he was sitting in a bright room, almost like the waiting room at a doctor’s office, or an emergency department at a hospital. The room was cold and sterile, antiseptic. He was still wearing his tailor-made blue suit and bloodstained dress shirt. He noticed he was in a lot of pain.
There were a lot of other people in the room, sitting in chairs and facing him—row upon row of people. He was at the front, facing back toward them. The eyes watched him impassively, not angry, but not kind either. Every single person in the room was looking at him—many, many people, almost all men, but also a han
