Carl woke up for good several days later, wondering where he was, trying to convince himself that the memories that were gradually seeping into his head were part of some long nightmare, but afraid to open his eyes and confirm reality. His face hurt, his chest hurt, his hips hurt. Something was stuck to his arm, and, slowly, he recognized the pressure of the catheter tubing running into him. He heard voices coming from somewhere close by - no not voices, more like panting and moaning, and tinny, tacky-sounding music. God, he was so hungry, his stomach felt like it had shriveled up like... He remembered Darla - or was it really Richard? No, it couldn't be - standing in front of him, naked from the waist down, and reached between his legs, dreading what he already knew he wouldn't find there.