Jacob Glaser staggered to his feet, aching from the tips of his hair to his toenails, and braced himself against the altar stone as he tried to get his bearings.
He was apparently not dead, which was surprising but positive, and his gunshot wounds had disappeared, which was weirder but still a plus.
The persistent ringing in his head was a negative, but considering the circumstances he couldn't really complain.
"You certainly took your time," said a familiar voice from behind him. Jacob whirled around, or tried to; his legs gave out partway and he had to grab the stone again.
Dr Trousdale was leaning against one of the standing stones, watching him.
He'd ditched the bloody suit in favour of jeans and a knitted sweater, which somehow knocked a decade or two off his age, or maybe that was the wry smile as he continued,
"Five more minutes and I was going to have to drag your corpse to the car, and I do so hate heavy lifting. Now, we need to go before the men with guns show up to ask awkward questions."
Read the rest via the link in the description!