No, he wasn't. Curtis was right. It took a great deal of effort just to walk, but as he did, his vision hazy from the pain, he looked around.

The smells alone discombobulated him. It was good that no one, aside from Curtis, tried to touch him. Inside the hospital waiting room, it was a new set of smells: antiseptic, dry and terrifying. He squeezed the knife, making his hand bleed, his jaw set.