Epilogue 2

There's something wrong. I keep trying to open my eyes, but I can't.

The temperature is changing.

Barometric pressure pushes against my body. My heart pumps sluggishly; my blood feels like molasses.

Voices come and go. I can't latch on to them long enough to figure out who they are.

Some undetermined period of time ago, someone touched me. I felt cold. Like water on my face, but I wasn't drowning.

I feel too hot. Like I'm in a desert.

There's a flicker of memory. Limbs spread everywhere. Screams.

A bomb blast.

I need to respond. Why can't I wake up?

Need to stay awake until morning.

Things always feel better in the morning.

I fade; the darkness keeping me under rolls back over me like a storm.

I lose my grip again.

The world is bright beyond my eyelids when I swim to the surface of consciousness again.

"…cerebral blood flow… metabolic dysfunction…outcome unknown until…"

Her voice is soft. I want to hold on to it, but I can't. I'm sucked back under, like a surfer tumbling in the waves.

Darkness comes again.

This time when I breach the surface, I can hear him. The voice has been here before. This time it's clear. Clear as day.

"So, anyway, Ari wants a bike. I said no. Next thing I know, Niro has extended Self Defense Sundays to include training for how to get away on a motorbike, should they ever need to. Now every old lady is learning to ride and wants a fucking bike, Switch. So, you need to come back because if those girls hurt themselves riding machines that weigh ten times more than they do, I'm gonna kill Niro for putting the idea in their fucking heads."

I understand the words, but I don't.

"Anyways, you also need to come back because I owe you a lot of money from our bet. You were right. I was wrong. Ari is mine, and perfect. She wears my property patch now and I'm waiting for you to give me shit about being a dumbass when I was trying to fight it. You need to go spend it on some tricked out bike I can be grumpy about because I practically bought it for you."

The bed I'm in jostles.

Fuck me.

Internally I scream.

I don't know why I can't force my way through this.

I try to make a sound, but nothing comes.

I concentrate.

Just a single limb. A digit.

Why does everything suddenly feel overwhelming? I'm choking silently. I focus on the finger.

It lifts from the bed. Just an inch.

Then it falls back to the sheet.

Why is my throat on fire?

I raise my finger again.

Tap.

Tap.

I'm choking. Drowning.

I ache to reach for my throat.

Tap.

Tap.

"Switch. Fuck. Switch! I'll get a nurse. Wait… Help, my friend…"

The words fade. I don't hear the rest.

Tap.

Tap.

I focus on my eyes. A millimeter open. The light is too bright.

Noises flood in. Beeping monitors. Then something swishing.

Tap.

Tap.

I open my eyes wider and see an ugly fluorescent light above me.

I can move my arm. First at the wrist, then the elbow. It's slow.

Jerky.

What the fuck?

My heart races; equipment beeps.

There's a flurry of activity around my bed. Excitement. I can feel it.

"Switch. You're back, motherfucker," the man says. He squeezes my hand hard. Phone to his ear. "King," he says. "Switch is awake."

I steal my hand back and reach for my throat.

"Theo? Can you hear me, Theo?" It's an older woman in a white coat. "I need you to stop fighting while we remove your intubation."

The man takes my hand. "Here, hold on to me. Will this hurt him?"

I glance over to the woman, who shakes her head. "It's uncomfortable." She's peeling tape from around my face. "This is just like ripping off a Band-Aid, Theo. We'll have the tube out in a second."

I begin to fight on the bed. The man looms over me. "I've got him. Just do it."

"Theo," the nurse says, holding her palm to my forehead. "Theo." When she says the name a second time, it sinks in she must be talking to me. I stop and look up at her.

Kind eyes, the color of walnuts.

"I'm going to need you to cough if you can as I try to pull this out. Okay?"

I nod.

"On the count of three," she says, and I do as she instructed. A long tube is ripped out of my throat through my mouth.

"There you go," she says, wiping away drool from my mouth with a cloth.

I feel wrecked as I wheeze and gasp and suck in air.

The pressure against my chest releases, and I look around. The man who held me down kisses my cheek. "Welcome back, Switch. The rest of the brothers are on their way."

He talks like he knows me, but I force five words through my shredded vocal cords.

"Who…the fuck…are you?"