“I said weakly, “would you get that rock off of me?”
I tried pushing it off myself, but I couldn’t seem to move my arm.
“It’s not a rock, it’s a bandage. And don’t move around, your tubes’ll come loose.”
I tried to focus my eyes. It seemed like I was surrounded by dangling bottles and ropes of tubes. I could barely see Mason. He looked strange.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked. I couldn’t remember what had happened.
“No. Not at you. You didn’t shoot yourself, did you?”
Oh, yeah. Somebody shot me … slowly Mason’s face came into focus. He looked strange, there was something wrong … oh, yeah, it was a Band-Aid.
“Did somebody shoot you, too?” I whispered. It seemed like he laughed or something before he said, “No. I beat the crap outta Lem Peters—but he didn’t exactly stand still and let me.
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