Thirty-Two
Clarence tried to find a comfortable position. He didn’t know if the wound in his side was better or if he was just getting used to it, but it hurt when he rolled to his side—either side.
Sleeping on his stomach was totally out.
His back was the best, although it still hurt. What if he had some sort of infection and no one was aware of it. The doctor seemed incompetent, like he was half crazy with those rolling eyes. Maybe the guy just had a twitch.
Or maybe he was evil like everyone else here in prison.
But if there was infection, they weren’t doing anything about and Clarence knew from experience he could die.
Fear stole every bit of breath he had left in him.
He couldn’t die in here. That would not happen. Even if he became sick, he had to get out of here somehow. Even
