As he struggled back to the world, he was positive he could hear a baby. He opened his eyes to slits, breathed out and felt his entire body seize up with pain. The sound of the baby faded into silence. It hadn't been a life-or-death beating, but that didn't mean he was going to run home. He had to take this slow. There was something in his hands. He looked down, saw a large white blob and tried to blink it into focus. He dropped the blob as he put one hand to the ground, spread his fingers and pushed. Lifted up to his knees, felt a strip of pain in his side as he tried to straighten up. Richie breathed out slowly. If his rib wasn't broken, it was bruised to fuck. So he leaned forward, stared at the blob on the ground, one arm supporting him, the other hanging loose by his side. He wanted to cry, but knew that would mean more pain. He breathed shallow through his nose. Thinking about those fucking charva cunts, and wondering where the fuck they'd come from. They went right for him like they had the scent, like they'd been told.
