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You don't want that, fine, but..." Mack was still talking, but his words had begun to dissolve, drowned out by a noise building in the pit of his stomach like the roar of a freight train barreling toward him. Hasn't even begun to react-he's barely read the word-when the window beside Stallings's head bursts in a shower of glass pebbles. He must have winced, because the nurse said, "Are you still experiencing discomfort in your left side? I didn't even know they still made those." She laughed.
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In the three-hour ride north out of Boise, it's become apparent that Stallings adores the sound of his own voice, and he's doing what he's been doing the entire time-talking. "Walking off like that." She was quiet while the needle fell.
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But within minutes of his arrival, Ethan is involved in a violent a... Her short-sleeved uniform was white with buttons all the way down the front to where the skirt stopped just above her knees. " "Not that I'm aware of." Mack pushed open the screen door, ventured a step out onto the porch. "Why don't you let me take you to the hospital? You need-" "I'm not going anywhere with you." "Then why are you at my house? The black holes were multiplying, the world beginning to spin. Flat on his back and his head reeling from a hard slam against the ground. It made no sense, but there was something about Mack's mouth. He couldn't stop looking at them, and he didn't know why, but it was all there. The air bag explodes out of the steering column but it's a millisecond late, just missing his head, which slams into the window with enough force to punch through. "Well, I'm glad to hear your memory's coming back.
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" "You tell me, Mack." A woman's voice called out from somewhere in the house, "Honey? He looked up at Mack, the man's mouth still moving, that freight train closing in with a vengeance of noise, its rhythm in lockstep with the brutal pounding in his head, and he couldn't take his eyes off Mack's mouth, the old man's teeth-his synapses sparking, trying to connect, and the noise, God, the noise, and the throbbing- He didn't feel his knees give out. He was going to lose consciousness-he could feel it coming, seconds away-and he wanted it, wanted the pain to stop, but... He can feel the heat from the truck's engine as it tears into the car. Blood is everywhere-running down the inside of the fractured windshield, splattered across the dash, in his eyes, still erupting out of what's left of Stallings.
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