Chapter 13

Philip felt the kid’s body go limp. “I think he’s out.”

“No, he’s just visualizing like I taught him.”

“Take a closer look, Mom.”

“Shit. He’s unconscious.”

A State of Emergency

Philip was literally running on pure adrenaline. Not bad for an old duffer of almost forty.Inside the hospital with one hand holding tight onto Ambrose, who was still hanging from his back, he dragged his mother through the crowded lobby to the ER waiting room. Victims of the riot were everywhere; some were stretched out on gurneys; others leaned against walls or sat in plastic chairs, holding ice packs to their heads or injured limbs, while nurses moved among them with clipboards taking down information. A long line led to what Philip assumed was the ER reception desk. In a corner, mounted on a wall, a TV showed live footage of looters carrying stacks of clothing, boxed appliances, and liquor bottles parading across the screen while a running banner announced a state of emergency