I woke up to the rhythmic chopping of helicopter blades. My arms and legs couldn’t move, and I tried blinking away the cobwebs. A voice rambled on beside me. Shifting one eye to the left, I saw a rotund woman with curly red hair.

“…and my three cats, John, George and Ringo, are always getting into the trash, even if I double bag it,” she continued.

I coughed and tasted blood.

“He’s awake!” she yelled to the cockpit before leaning into my face. “Hey there, I’m Amy. You’ve been in an accident and we’re flying to Metropolitan Hospital. Do you remember anything?”

With all my energy, I rolled my head back and forth.

“Okay. Well, we’ll get you up to speed, but you’re in rough shape. I won’t lie.”

I arched my neck up, but lightning shot all through my stomach and chest. I cried in agony.

“That’s why you’re strapped down, bud.”

“Kaylee?”

“Is that your sister?”

I nodded, barely.

“She’s fine,” she said, patting my hand to comfort me. “Can’t say as much for the other kid you were with.” The white hat kid. I could feel the tension slip from the corners of my mouth. My heart beat a little easier. And I fell back asleep.