Page 2 of Warped

Chapter Two

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“Mr. Mason? Mr. Mason?”

Someone was saying a name, but I didn’t understand why. Confusion rushed over me, and I tried to sit up, or speak, but nothing happened.

I opened my eyes. My eyelids fluttered, only for me to squeeze them shut again as bright light blasted against them.

What the hell was happening?

“Mr. Mason,” the voice came again, and I realized it was female. “Try to stay calm. You were in an accident, and you have a tube down your throat, which is why it feels strange. You’re in the hospital, but you’re safe. Everything is fine.”

Was she talking to me? Mason? Was that my name? I searched my memories, trying to remember. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t be sure.

I groaned and clawed at the thing protruding from my mouth. My fingers caught it and yanked, and pain exploded in my throat.

“Please, don’t do that,” the voice said. “I’ll get a doctor to take it out.”

The fresh pain had caused my consciousness to retreat again, but then I became aware of more people standing around me.

A male voice sounded. “I’m going to take out your breathing tube now, so you can talk. Are you ready?”

I knew I wanted it out of my throat, so I nodded.

“I need you to give a long exhale while I’m pulling it out. It’ll be a little uncomfortable, but you’ll be fine.” He counted me in. “One, two, three ...”

I exhaled as the tube was pulled up. I couldn’t help but gag against it and then coughed, the movement sending pain spearing through my ribs and shoulder. I fell back against the bed again, gasping for breath, and a memory flashed in my head of bursting up through ice cold water and trying to breathe.

A solid hand on my shoulder pulled my attention from my thoughts. A young male doctor looked down on me, concern on his features. “Mr. Mason, do you remember what happened to you?”

He must have seen the confusion on my face.

“That is your name, right?” he asked. “Lee Mason?”

It sounded familiar, so it must be right. I nodded.

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

I shook my head. “How long was I asleep?” My voice was low and grating, as though I’d swallowed a bag of gravel. My throat felt that way, too.

“You weren’t asleep, exactly. We had to put you into a medical coma because of your injuries. You’ve been here a little over a week.”

The word ‘coma’ flashed up in neon lights in front of my eyes.

“You were almost dead when you were found and brought here. You had multiple wounds—a gunshot wound to the shoulder, two stab wounds, and you’d almost drowned. You’d also taken a nasty bang to the head and had swelling on the brain, which is why we had to put you in a medical coma to give your brain time to recover. We think it was only the temperature of the water that prevented you from dying. It slowed your body’s metabolism down so much, and diverted your blood from the extremities of your body, so your organs continued to function despite your injuries, albeit at a far slower rate than normal.”

It was an overload of information, making my head swim. I’d almost died? Someone had shot me. The possibility seemed insane, but this doctor wouldn’t be telling me these things if they weren’t the truth, would he?

“Do you have any idea who shot you?”

I frowned and shook my head. “No, I can’t remember any of it.”

“What can you remember?”

“I’m ... I’m not sure.”

“But you remember your name?”

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