Page 38 of Uncharted

I had to get it.

I had to⁠—

“Jake! Jake, fucking…ow!”

“Holy shit!”

I couldn’t stay there; I wouldn’t stay there. Death would come first before I went back. I had a choice.

I was making it, goddammit, I was making it.

“You have to calm down!”

“Someone hold him!”

That goddamn light, it fucking hurt.

I had to have it.

Someone was holding me. They were holding me. But they weren’t going to stop me; they weren’t going to get in the way. I was going to get to that light if it⁠—

“Stand down.”

Two words and the fight went out of me. The lights overhead were harsh, so harsh I wondered why I was so afraid of the dark suddenly. I hadn’t been afraid of the dark since I’d been a kid. The room was bright; it was filled with people, people I knew. There was blood flowing from the blond’s nose, a broken lip interrupting a face so serious I wondered if it ever smiled, but it was the man at the side of my bed who had spoken.

He reminded me of my old staff sergeant.

“You’ve told me that before,” Xander said, and although his expression was hard and unforgiving, there was a sadness in his voice. “You were drunk.”

“Probably,” I said, and the room spun. “Ugh.”

“Move out of the way,” a woman on my left said, and I realized it was a nurse.

My eyes fell on Carter. “Sorry about your nose…and your lip, Carter. That was me⁠—”

I didn’t catch what they said because the room was spinning and it was getting hard to think. There were faces, plenty of faces I knew, faces I didn’t realize were missing until now.

“Reno,” I heard someone whisper. “Where the fuck is Reno? Where the fuck is⁠—”

That someone was me.

Darkness came again, but at least it took my senses with it.

* * *

Whatever I was tasting was vile, like vomit mixed with the god-awful cough syrup my mom had sworn was the cure-all for everything. It had never mattered that the taste of it was so awful that as a kid, I almost preferred to suffer through whatever bug I had than take another spoonful.

I hurt everywhere. And there were machines beeping softly. There was the scuff of someone’s shoes nearby as well. And the smell of antiseptic, not strong, but constant.

Right, I was in the hospital. I couldn’t remember how long, but then I couldn’t remember exactly what had led to me being there. I knew why. I’d woken up a few times and had stuck around long enough for someone to give me some details, but that was about as useful as hearing stories of things I did as a young kid. All the stories in the world couldn’t make the memories come to life, and apparently the doctors said the chances of getting my memory back after a traumatic event were pretty much zero.

That damn dam.

“I think he’s awake,” a soft voice announced, and my eyes flashed open.

“Momma?” I gasped, and I found her there, sitting in a chair next to my bed. My dad was there too, but he had been standing next to the window and turned around at the noise I made, a grim expression on his face. Sat in front of him, on the cushioned bench under the window, was my sister, and it looked like Lauren hadn’t slept in a few days. My older brother, Darren, was there too, in a chair pushed against the wall opposite the bed. It looked like he’d been sitting with his head bent, as if in prayer, but now his face was turned to me with hope. “What the fuck are all of you doing here?”

For the first time in my life, no one in my family scolded me for swearing in front of my mother as she leaned onto the bed, laying a hand over my chest and rubbing in small circles like she’d done so many times when I was a boy. “Of course we’re here, baby. Where else would we be?”