“How do you feel?”

Jack checked his limbs, cataloguing their movement as he felt for aches and pains, wincing when he rolled his neck.

“Your knee looks bad,” Garrison added, drawing Jack’s attention to the stinging, pulsing redness of his kneecap.

“Did I hit my head?

“You did.”

“I feel… zombified,” Jack said, clutching tight to Garrison’s fingers as he helped him up, then
gripping tighter still for the headrush that followed. Jack dug his fingers into Garrison’s arms until less diz...