41
Turner woke up alone in a two-bed hospital room. The modern lamps emitted a pleasant, uniform light that painted the walls a broken-white colour. The window was dark, so he figured it was night, but what day? And what happened?
He tried to move but pain rippled across his chest, moved into his shoulder, and left his body through his right arm, leaving behind an unpleasant tingling.
An ECG machine stood next to his bed, but he wasn’t connected to it. As he turned his head, he felt that there was something in his nose. He slowly lifted his left hand to touch it: it was a nasal cannula. He also noticed an IV line running to his left arm. He was being given drips of some kind. He had hated these kinds of things all his life, they were just not his style. When he occasionally wondered abo
