Finally, I wake up.

I’m in a hospital room wearing nothing but a paper gown. There’s a poster on the wall that says “Keep calm, and carry on.” I am not calm. I try to sit up but I can’t. My whole body aches. I reach up to feel a piece of gauze wrapped around my head.

Where the hell am I?

 Ash bursts into the room, two nervous nurses close on his tail, but they never proceed past the doorway. Finally, something familiar. I open my mouth to speak, but any attempt at sound is useless. The ladies quietly slip back through the door and shut it. I hear the sound of a lock.

“Are you okay? What did they do to you? How bad are your injuries?” He’s frantic until I put my hand on his chest and he freezes. Through his green shirt I can feel the warmth of his body. The warmth of him. He slows his breathing, gapes down at my hand, and lays his over mine. I notice he has to use his left one, because his right is in a cast.

I swallow and try to speak again.

“I’m fine. What happened to you?” He stares at me. Swallows. 

“After he threw you against the wall, he started to kick you. I tried to tear him away from you but he- but he was too strong. He pushed me off like I was nothing.” His swollen eyes begin to tear up and my heart beats faster. I don’t like people crying. 

I inspect my surroundings and find there’s not much to look at. The walls are entirely tan, except for the wooden trim and wall to my right, which is floor to ceiling windows, looking out to another room full of dead or dying people. To my left, there are cabinets with white labels on them and a sink below. I am connected to a cord-like thing and the annoying beeping that I had tuned out before is my heart beat. 

I hate hospitals.

 The only door out is one directly to my right. Ash follows my gaze behind him and sighs.

“Don’t even bother. It’s locked- the police want to talk to us before we get checked out to leave.” I close my eyes and feel the annoyance set in.

“Police?” I croak.

“They just want to know what happened so they can find your landlord. He had a gun, man. Lucky he only got your shoulder. He could’ve killed you.” So that’s what that noise was.

I try to stand up and, with the help of Ash, succeed. I wobble over to the door, clenching my teeth at the pain in my ankle, and put my hand on it. It leaches the warmth from my pale pink palm and I don't know what to do.

“And the dog?”

He looks down. “He threw the bag against the wall, too. She’s gone.” 

I breathe in. So much death in the course of so little time. Just a few days. The only person left to die is…

“You have to leave.” I state as I open my eyes to him, and I can feel the crust that was building along my lash line break apart and allow my eyes to see.

“What? No. Not a chance, buckaroo. You could be holding me at gunpoint right now and I wouldn’t leave.” Even though he’s up and joking again, there’s no grin that usually comes.

I’m too weak. I’ve been too vulnerable lately. I need to stop it.

“You just woke up from a concussion. You should probably rest.”

“No. Not now. Not when everything is a mess and it’s all my fault. I need to fix this.” I test the handle, and find that he was indeed correct.

We’re locked in here, and have no way out.