Chapter 10
His skull was cracked down the center and his brains were strung along the Station like fairy lights. That had to be what happened, because his head felt like someone pried it apart with a crowbar. Jason couldn’t think, not even recall the last time he’d had a hangover even half as bad. No, never again would he touch even cough syrup. It hurt to make a sound.
Jason clenched his eyes tighter and burrowed deeper in his bag, John’s warm limbs loose enough to make it easy. The rasp of fabric grated on his ears and skin, tender from whatever catastrophic binge he’d gone on. Which made no sense. Astronauts were rationed on a wine or beer packet a piece per person for special occasions. A hangover wasn’t possible with the small amount on board.
What the f**k happened?
Silky skin gl
