Rocks Fall

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"Well, that's unfortunate," he said, surveying the extremely large pile of rock.

He sat down across from me, just out of arm's length. The helmet had come off during the cave-in, and even in the sickly glow of his handheld, he didn't look much like I would've imagined. He had a nice face, pointed chin with laugh wrinkles around the eyes and mouth, and sandy blond hair. He ran a hand through it, scattering dust, and he could have been anyone: a math teacher or an optometrist or an accountant, someone not very important and not very dangerous.

"Are you in any pain?" he asked.

"I'd be better if you wouldn't mind shifting some of these boulders off me," I said.

He smiled, briefly. "No, I don't think so, but I do have some Vicodin I could toss in reach."

Alexander Bane offering me painkillers: brilliant. I wouldn't have minded something, although preferably served in a glass and out of a bottle of Macallan, but a fuzzy head didn't seem as though it would do me much good in the present circumstances. Not that the clear one was going to be particularly useful, either.

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