I open my eyes.
Light. I can see light. Some part of me is telling me that I shouldn't be able to see anything. Everything should be dark, not lit up with a light that I can't explain.
The light above me moves, swaying in time with my thought. Then I see the hand, moving the spotlight off my face. Spotlight, spotlight. Why would anyone be using a spotlight on me? I try to move, lift my head, anything. I don't feel any response from my body – in fact, I can't feel anything. It seems that the only thing I have control over is my eyelids.
I want to know what happened to Dad, and to Harry. I'm starting to remember my last memories: of Dad's crying and scared eyes, of a ringing in my ears and the blood smeared on my face. I can remember thinking that I was dying, and of how ironic the situation was.
The spotlight is back, and, if I listen hard enough, there are voices too.
"He's ok, Mr Cracker, his eyes are open. That's a good sign!"
The voices are faint. But as distant as they may be, they are there, and I cling to them.
I hear the scraping of chair legs, as if someone has suddenly collapsed. I wonder who that someone is, but before I can think anymore, a face swims into my limited vision.
"Hello Neil, how are you feeling?"
I blink up at the unfamiliar face. They smile back at me, and I can read the relief and exhaustion in their eyes. Was that caused by me?
His mouth moves, and I listen to his words carefully. "One blink for no, two blinks for yes. You'll only be able to move your eyes at the moment, so don't panic. The main thing is that you're alive, so we'll focus on that for now."
I blink twice to agree with him, and I receive another wearied laugh from the man with the tired eyes. He starts talking again.
"You're in a hospital, Neil. Do you know why?"
I hesitate, but then close my lids twice. My memories have given me a pretty clear idea of things, and I can't wait to get hold of Harry. I can't think of anyone else who could have done this to me, but I wonder why he did it. But then I remember that I don't know what it is that Harry has done, so I listen closely to the man above me.
"You were shot, Neil. In the chest, extremely close to your heart. You are very lucky to be breathing right now, and I think that you owe part of that to your father for his fast thinking. Time was of the essence, I can't stress that enough.
So maybe, when you're better, you'd like to thank him. It's because of your father now that you're here talking to me."
I looked back up at this strange man and wondered if he knew how much he had just changed the way I thought. He must have seen something in my eyes, however, because he hurriedly checked some monitor next to the bed. I began to register some pain in my chest, and I saw the man run out
to the corridor and yell out something. The next thing I knew, there were lots of people around me, poking me, looking in my eyes, fiddling with things behind them.
Then someone stabbed me in the arm with a syringe, and I went back to my world of black.
