Beneath him, the floor seemed determined to shake him awake. Gradually, the sound of sand faded and he was able to pick out other noises. The roaring of a car engine. The low muttering of a male voice. The unsteady crashing of his own heart. But he was only vaguely aware of them all at best. They were background noise, nothing more. What he was much more aware of was the pain. It spread out from the centre of his chest and coiled around his arms until it found the very tips of his fingers. It lay like a weight in his stomach and it burned at both of his legs. It throbbed behind his eyes, up over his head and down to the base of his skull. Every single part of him hurt, and the more awake he became, the worse the pain got. A burst of pure agony exploded in his right hand and it suddenly became very heavy. A voice somewhere above him grunted. ‘Watch out for his sword,’ it said. ‘It ripped through the seat,’ another voice said. ‘It’ll rip through you if you’re not careful,’ said the first speaker.
