The room was undulating. He couldn’t move his arms. When he tried to scream. His voice was gone. It was hot, burning up.
Janet put a cool towel on the man’s head. She said to him. “I don’t know your name. And I hate that we call people John. You remind me of my grandpa, I hope you don’t mind if I call you Sam. That is until you get a chance to tell us who you are and your story.”