Ivan lay face down on the floor, curled up like a dead animal. He twitched for a while, then lay still and silent. His blank face was smeared with blood and vomit, but the way he was crumpled on the floor concealed that. If it weren't for the pool of his former stomach contents next to him and the stench that still hung in the air, and the dreadfully obvious fact that his gasps for air had ceased, he might have appeared almost peacefully asleep. But he wasn't. In scant minutes, the boy would be dead if the situation stayed as it was.