"So," Banksy leaned back in his chair, a fresh bandage stuck to the left side of his forehead. He glanced around Cross's room, his eyes resting for a moment on each of the each of the four other occupants.
Cross was lying on his bed, his shirt open to expose the bloodied bandages that were wrapped tightly around his chest. Lex sat perched on the edge, her tattered scarf tightly wrapped around her injured throat and bloodstains marring her clothes. On the floor Makina sat next to Lara, neither of the girls looking much worse for wear. Banksy chose to focus his attention on Lara, seeing as she was the last person he remembered before being knocked unconscious.
Banksy pointed to his injured head. "Would anyone care to explain… what in the hell happened to me? Or to the two of you for that m
