My shoulder's fine, too, I realize. All the various aches and pains I've been carrying around the past few days gone all at once. Some part of me wonders if I wouldn't have preferred the pain to being stuck back here, awaiting the day Ellen or I disappears... And then I remember the blood-slicked pulp that was Bullseye's face under my hand, and think the relative safety of the Island might be worth the daily game of disappearance roulette. At least we're alone here, and safe, for some value of the word.

"We should get you to a doctor," I murmur, then reluctantly add, "And maybe check on the dog."