Harris woke with a feeling of finality.
Maybe I’ll just stay in bed. I could lock the door and barricade myself in here.
He stared up at the ceiling, glanced across the room and out the window, and heaved himself up out of bed. Like a zombie, he stumbled down the hallway and turned the shower on, hotter than usual. He stepped onto the smooth white tile, enjoyed the water beating against his body. He thought about doctors, coroners, and morticians surveying his body and spent an extra twenty minutes scrubbing every inch of flesh. He returned to his room feeling tingly and pink.
He was hungry, but that would have to wait. Tucker promised to make him a banquet after the surgery. Kind words. Meaningless.
Harris dressed in his casual clothes. He’d soon be out of them and into a flimsy hospi
