by C.L. Bevill
* * *
A long time later, or it might have been only minutes, I heard the two of them talking. My head still throbbed. My body still ached, and my back was on fire. I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes so I merely listened.
“…said her head was hit. It could be a concussion.”
“All I can remember about concussions is to wake them up every hour and make sure their pupils dilate in light. Both of them and equally.”
“What are we going to do if they don’t?”
“Go to the library and get a book. Hope her brain isn’t swelling.”
There was a pause. “Are you sure about…him?”
“Yeah. He’s gone. There wasn’t anything left. Just blood on the rocks. I hope he stumbled into the water and washed out to sea.”
The sounds went away.