Chapter 4: Good for You, Marcelo
Efren
“Sir!” A warm hand shook Efren’s shoulder. “Sir!”
Noises from all directions assaulted Efren’s muddled mind. Nausea churned in his belly, and a dread he couldn’t quite specify permeated every fiber of his aching body.
He cracked open his eyes and squinted into Jeremy Cook’s concerned face before throwing an arm across his eyes to block the sun.
“He’s awake,” Jeremy shouted. To whom, Efren wasn’t sure.
Something had happened. That much was obvious, but what had happened seemed wrapped in cobwebs, just out of reach. As if, maybe, Efren didn’t want to know. He pushed up onto his elbows.
“Hold on, sir.” Jeremy used the assertive tone that made him an effective assistant, but that he’d never before directed at Efren. “Did you hit your head when you
