Culling

Part III • Chapter XIX

Was there something wrong with her hand? From the way that she had been curled, I hadn't been able to see her hands at all.

"I'm Jesse Walsh." He responded to my question but never once removed his gaze from Sang's form. "I'm Sang's cousin, on the Sorenson side."

Another cousin? I guess it made sense that she had other relatives. But how in the world did she have so many?

North's possessive growl lost its intensity, but he was still displeased. "Why the hell didn't you say something throughout the last month?" He frowned at Jesse. "You hadn't introduced yourself even once."

"Later." I interrupted North, even though I had the very same question posed on the tip of my tongue. At this juncture some of the pieces were slowly coming together. But we didn't have time for questions right now.

All I knew was that it looked like Derrick was friends with Jesse, and apparently this other man as well. And Chet's dead body also hadn't escaped my attention. Clearly this group was not involved in whatever this was; they had been on Sang's defense. So for now, we'd have to trust them.

And if my suspicions were correct, all of us owed Chet a debt that could never be repaid. I couldn't make any mistakes, and we needed every ally that we could get right now.

My focus returned to Sang. What was wrong with her hand? I sat back on the ground and cradling her in between my crossed legs. I had to fight Sang's hold on herself, and struggled to move the cape around, but now I needed to know.

After less than a second, Kota was on the ground with me, helping me uncurl our wife from her protective position. North, Silas, and Luke crowded around us. Curiosity, and also because this was the most effective way to hide Sang from the cameras right now.

As the layers between us were slowly peeled away, a sense of dread began to encompass me. The bruises, and bites, that marred her skin were horrendous, but even those lost my focus. My attention was captured by the appearance of her right hand, and I actually felt faint.

What appeared to be a violent puncture had penetrated through the entirety of her small palm. A wound that had very obviously been done by a dagger, and then withdrawn just as thoughtlessly.

I knew from a glance that there was no way that I'd be able to cure this. It would have been difficult enough with the best care, but with our lack of resources? Sang would, without a fraction of a doubt, have a scar. And I'd have to check, but it was also possible that she'd have nerve damage as well.

I wanted to let loose, and I hoped to god that we hadn't killed the fucker who had done this, but first, Sang. I had to keep my murderous thoughts at bay.

"Kota." I shifted Sang in my arms until I was able to isolate her hand, making sure to be as gentle as possible. There was no way that she'd not be in pain when she woke up, or she was treated, whichever came first. And it killed me to know that I'd be the one causing it when it came to that. The wound was bleeding, and we needed to get that under control first and foremost.

Kota knew what I needed already, and handed me some makeshift rags that we had kept in our backpacks. They weren't sanitary to our specific needs, but at the moment we had no other choice. I'd have to do my best, and hope that I'd be able to prevent infection from settling in. We'd have to find something, anything that we could use for rudimentary sterilization. We needed clean bandages, tools...

There was too much that we needed, including antibiotics and a safe location to treat Sang. Plus, on top of that, we were closing in on two weeks since the games had begun.

After that point had been reached, we would be in dire straights. When the fourteenth day started, the incentives would begin. The media needed closure; by that point the sponsors, the viewers, everyone, would be bored.