Raylan swallows, and licks his lips.

If he could just dig the cotton out of his brain, and dislodge the mud between his thoughts, he'd be all set.

"Uh — "

He tries to lift his head, but nausea roils through him; he sags back against the ground, eyes shut.

"Lost and Found's still open. It's — "

His index finger twitches in what's supposed to be the general direction of safe haven.