Being unable to leave the Compound rather limited how Des could spend what little time he was well enough to get out of bed. Which is why he had become a regular fixture at the bookshelf, trying to wheedle out newspapers and history books from it, while the jukebox bellowed "Nelly the Elephant" at him ( Read more... )

When he'd taken the last of his tablets, Des had expected his body to deteriorate fast from then onwards and, in that, he hadn't been disappointed. It was his voice which went first, so that he could speak only in a rasping whisper. And then his legs had followed. And his heart and his lungs gave signs of following soon after wards. And so, barely ( Read more... )

The Funhouse hadn't been full as often recently as it had of old. But it was packed this night. After arriving back home, the morning before, Des had spent nearly the full two days contacting everyone he could find. The whole of Jokertown was represented ( Read more... )

Des had a room in the compound to himself, and as easy as it was to be suspicious about that, he was grateful for it. He did not always sleep easily of late, no matter how tired he felt. It did not feel like home, of course, he would not expect it to behind these impersonal concrete walls but he had been in hotel rooms less pleasant before ( Read more... )