Ms. Josephine’s, Earth Plane.
12:58 pm . . .
“Stay with me, Jack,” Ricky says as he squishes a large bag of clear liquid. I feel a warm sting start working its way through my body, from my right wrist upwards. Ms. Josephine places a warm blanket over my body, tucking the sides in around my legs and torso. And my chest is burning near those sticky patches.
“Your core temperature dropped below ninety-degrees. Thirty-two-point-two Celsius, Jack. That’s where the shivering reaction ceases. Your pulse, respiration, and blood pressure are dangerously depressed. You’re half dead.”
I’m full dead . . . just half living.
And as an afterthought he added, “Oh . . . and your heart stopped for a bit, there.”
“We can only bring you up a few degrees an hour, okay. So this is going to suck for a while. Just try and relax.”
That’s like saying, Hey Jack, you’re freezing to death, just kick back and relax, buddy.
I manage to eek out the words, “I’mmmmm . . . c-c-co-ld-d-d-d!”
“I know you are,” Ricky says as he plunges that thermometer into my ear. “But if we heat you up any faster your cardiovascular system will collapse. And that’s a decidedly bad thing. Then I’d have to use the syringe on you.”
I notice that the syringe doesn’t look full anymore. Either it spilled, or evaporated, or I’ve been dead recently. And right before I was going to try and curse him out . . . the blackness overcame me.