Hans Larsson

Rekker glanced back to see if the Swede was following him into the workshop.

"I used to do that all the time until I died from it." Rekker had a love for the numbness of booze and sleeping pills which had put him out for a few minutes before he was revived. "The one time I wasn't trying to die I managed to knock my fucking self off."

He's cynical about that death compared to failing to get there sometimes when he intended to. Fuck the universe and that bullshit.