Simon turned around, facing an empty room. “Angela…I was…frak…time dilation…maybe hallucinations…” he muttered, collapsing to his knees.

Blake sat on the bed, next to the unconscious hooker and her john. “What the fuck happened here? Did you…?” Blake started to ask. He looked at Simon and knew the answer.

“You were dead,” Simon said, staring at the floor. Blake wasn’t sure if it was a question, a statement, or an explanation. He took it as all three.

“Yeah. Wasn’t sure if I’d make it back, either. Not the sort of thing you can try twice, you know?”

“You were dead.” This time, it sounded like an accusation. “I did…all this because they killed you and now, what, you’re back? Just like that?”

Blake was silent for a moment. Finally, he said: “Simon, I’m sorry. I – “

“Forget it,” Simon said, standing. “We’ve got to go.” Blake noticed that the kid still wasn’t looking at him.

They heard footsteps in the hall. Blake fumbled for his revolver, but his hands wouldn’t cooperate, and the footsteps grew closer…