"You were pretty well banged up."
"That's news?"
"If you're still feeling pain I'll give you another shot."
"Why don't you save it for your head?"
Hurtz turned and went to the forward part of the cabin and the radio. He didn't want to listen to that high, whining voice; the boy was hurt and Hurtz recognized it, but Hurtz couldn't take too much more, from anyone, injured or not.
"I'm not going to live," the boy called after Hurtz.
Hurtz turned back to face the boy. "What the hell kind of talk is that?"
"I'm not going to live," the boy repeated in exactly the same tone.
"You're getting delirious."
"I'm getting dead."