It was like trying to swim through a sea of chocolate pudding. My arms and legs were weighted, awkward and heavy. My lungs strained for air. I tried to stroke my way to some nebulous shore, to climb out of the thick, murky liquid that threatened to pull me under in its muddy, brown vortex.

Through the muck, I heard noise, muffled, distorted and far away. Were they calling me? I tried to stroke my way toward the noise. Voices? Yes, closer.

I kicked harder to reach the voices and was brought to the surface with a sharp pang in my right leg. I groaned.

"He's lucky he didn't get more banged up," said a voice. Who ever was driving that car was a shitty chauffeur."

Another voice gave a muffled agreement.

And then I was in clear, calmer water. The pressure on my chest ceased to constrict, but was comforting and warm. I heard a voice, soft and gentle in my ear.

"Ssh, it's okay, Mike. You're gonna be just fine. Don't try to move..."

I somehow managed to peel my eyelids open to see Ned talking to Eric about what had happened to me.

I struggled to form a word, but my mouth felt like a dustbowl.

"Auwwah," I managed to croak.

And I fell into the swirling vortex of chocolate pudding.

*****

When I woke up again, there was no murkiness. My leg hurt, my head hurt. My whole body hurt.

"Hi," said a voice from the corner of the room. It was Ned's.

"What the hell happened?" I groaned.

"You shouldn't have left the hotel room," Ned said. And in his voice, I heard the anxiety, fear, frustration, and relief.

"I was bored," I said.

"Don't be a smart-ass, Mike. You almost got yourself killed." Ned barked, and I heard the anger in his voice.

"Neddie, were you worried about me??" I asked laughing a little. "I didn't know you cared."

"I do care, you idiot."

I tried to shift in the bed, and another shot of pain ran through my body. I fell back into the pillows. Ned was on top of the bed before I could finish moaning.

"Someone was following you. They tried to run you over."

"And they missed??? Fucking morons." Jeez, how the hell could they miss, I thought.

"We're checking Friday's and Gannon's stories now."

"Those mothers...shi...." A sudden panic went through me.

"You're fine. They sideswiped you. The fall did more damage than the car. You tore cartilage in you knee so they cleaned it out and sewed you back up."

And then on cue, in walked Eric - chart, pen, and rectal thermometer in hand.

"Don't worry, Mikey, you'll be on your toes in no time at all. Ready for your temperature reading???" he asked with an evil grin on his face.

If I weren't in pain and my leg in a sling, I swear I would have decked him.