I was dying for a cigarette. It was the seemingly endless hours spent lying in the ward, waiting for my flesh to heal. Without any warning, a man sudd...nly was beside me. He was about my age, maybe a bit taller, dressed in a sports coat with elbow patches that gave me the idea he was a history professor. He seemed shy when he saw I was awake. He was carrying something, in a plastic bag. He approached, and introduced himself.It turns out he was the guy that stopped me from getting beat to death. "It doesn't make a lot of sense to me either."They stood that way for a moment, Brett's arm around her, both of them silently watching Susan, who had lost track of the conversation and was staring intently at a Thomas Kincaid reprint on the wall."I'd better get back up there," Brett said at last, breaking the embrace. "Part two is about to start." What kind of casualty count are we looking at?" Janet wanted to know.He shrugged, unable to give her even a guess. "As few as possible I hope," he. More

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