Nimrod placed his hands on the wall, lifting his weight from the ground. Fatigue was kicking in, spreading through every nook and cranny of his body. His head was also aching and his vision revolved like the face of a roller coaster. If Anabel had not suggested it, he would have laid on the floor and have a good sleep until every energy that had been sapped away from him was restored. This was one thing he hated about Extracting. It always leaves him with a splitting head and burning muscles. The energy it always takes from him was just too great.
"Are you okay?" Anabel asked as she spread her hands around him.
"Yeah, just some bloody headache."
"That explains it then because you smell like roasting garbage."
Nimrod wanted to explain how he had rescued a woman and her baby from the claws of death, but the words would not form when he tried to speak. The undertone came into a gibberish mumble instead, as though he had something stuck in his throat.
