DEVLIN

Mike.

No. No. No.

Mike is in the car.

I am on the floor, eating dust, the sound of everyone running around plaguing me. The impact of the explosion renders me useless.

I can’t—

I can’t move.

My vision swims. There’s a cruel, relentless ache dancing around in my head. A groan slips out of me. I try to blink through the haze.

The world moves like it’s in slow motion. Unbelievably, cruelly slow.

Mike.

Mike is in the car.

My brain won’t quit singing it to me. ...