Running On Empty

I wake up, smelling… burnt meat?
Everything’s swimmy and wild.
Am I drugged?
There’s a swirling, kaleidoscope medic standing over me. He moves his lips, but I can’t understand what he’s saying.
He writes on a card, holds it up: “Do you hear that beeping sound?”
I try to shake my head, but it’s strapped down.
“No,” I say.
I can feel myself saying No, but I can’t hear it.
The medic writes more: “What do you remember?”
“I was checking the gas can. Then, I saw a bright flash, and then… this.”
The medic writes again: “With a lighter?”