"Shitshitshitshit." Axel's leg dragged behind him as he shuffled across the room, leaning on the wall for support like a drunk after a long night. When he reached the chair on the other side, on which a plastic bag containing his old clothes had been placed, he looked down at his bandaged thigh. It didn't look as if it had started bleeding again.
So far so good.
Axel picked up the bag and opened it, crinkling his nose at the sight of his ruined clothes packed inside, stiff from the dried blood. "No good... I can't wear these..." he muttered to himself. Dropping the bag on the floor, he shrugged off his gown and pulled the plain-looking hospital shirt and trousers from the back of the chair. Easing himself into a sitting position with a gasp of pain, he set about gingerly sliding the trousers on, keeping an eye on the door in case the Purifier came back for a second visit.
Trousers on, he yanked the shirt over his bruised torso then eased his feet into his old trainers. You got dressed. Good going. His cell phone suddenly started ringing on his bedside table, making him jump.
"Shitshitshitshit."
Successfully shuffling back across the room to his bedside table, he picked up the phone and hit the answer button after he'd checked who it was. "Rose, we need to... what? Bailey? Flora?" He snorted. "What the fuck do I care? I just got..." The rat sighed as Rose kept talking. "Room 441A? That's a few down from me. Alright, see you there."
Hanging up, Axel glanced back down at his pillow, the knife still pinning the note to it. He pulled it out, pushing the blade back in and shoving it out of site into the waistband of his trousers. After a moment's pause, he also snatched up the note, then turned and hobbled towards the door.
By the time he'd reached Anne's door, he'd learned that by keeping his leg stiff in a particular position, he could make a good pace without his wound hurting so much. He noticed that none of the nurses seemed to care that a patient was stumbling around the halls. Either the patient care is terrible, or I don't catch the ladies' eyes as much as I used to. Reaching Anne's door, Axel pushed it open and fixed her with a disgruntled frown as he limped in. "Say one thing about us, it's that our luck is consistent." He plonked into a chair. "Consistently shit."