Wondering what “Gen Pop” was, thinking it might stand for “General Population,” Sharif slipped off into sleep, where pain and anguish were muted by his dreams.
* * *
“Ssst,” said a voice.
Sharif was instantly awake, and flames lit up all over his body. They hadn't just pulverized his face. Bruises up and down his legs, down his sides, up and down his arms, all ached now even worse than earlier.
“I brought you something,” she whispered.
Sharif didn't have the energy for surprise. How Thila had found him, he didn't know.
“Lift your head. There.” She slipped something around his neck.
Instantly, nine-tenths of his pain dissipated. A pain collar. Where'd she get one of those? he wondered.
“Borrowed it from the hospital next door,” she whispered, glancing over the top of his bed toward
