““Yeah . . . right . . .” He rolled the back of his head against the wall behind him. “We don’t . . . have time for that.” He nodded toward the other side of the warehouse. “In that box . . . there’s some spare sheets. Start ripping them up.” His eyelids lowered a bit. “We’re going to need . . . some bandages . . .” I don’t know how long it took, but I finally had the strips of cloth wound around his torso. Red was already starting to leak through. With my own bloodied hand, I wiped my sweatin...g brow. “That’s not going to last,” I said. Cole had managed to hunch himself higher against the wall. His hand fumbled blindly across the mattress, until he found his cigarettes. When he got one lit and took a drag, he coughed painfully enough to drain his face white. “Probably not.” Cigarette in hand, he had lowered his chin so he could look down at himself. “So I guess . . . we better get moving.” “Get moving? What are you talking about?” Another drag on the cigarette, another shuddering cough.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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