His mouth twisted into a grimace, and I watched, frozen, with my heart in my throat as he lurched sideways. The movement was clumsy and left him off balance, but before he could right himself, he was violently sick. I struggled with him, fighting to keep him on the bed while Joe ran for help. Blood-stained vomit covered me, and it took all my strength to keep us both from tumbling to the floor. “Pete, please. Someone’s coming, okay? Someone’s coming to help you.” My poor attempt at comfort fell on deaf ears. Pete screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, his body rigid with pain. He was in agony and I couldn’t do anything but hold him. The door burst open. Suddenly the room was full of people. Faceless hands pulled Pete from me, and I was pushed away. I stumbled backward, dazed and clumsy, until my back hit the wall and I slid to the floor. A sea of bodies surrounded the bed, and I watched helplessly as Pete fought against them. It took everything I had to stay crouched in the corner… everything I had, and the viselike grip Joe had on my arms.
