Noam’s cries echoing in the still of the night.

Shut up, Decker thought. Shut the fuck up!

The air so damn cool. Blood pouring out of his body. At least, something in his body was warm.

He told himself: Gotta get up. You’re going to bleed to death out here, you asshole. Get the fuck up!

Noam still screeching like a macaw.

Decker lay on his back, clasping his bloody arm with his fingers, his body soaked with cold sweat. “Get help, dammit!” he shouted to Noam.

But the boy remained immobile.

Then Decker heard a voice. He couldn’t see who it was: It was dark and misty and his vision had blurred. A female voice crying out, “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

Sounded like Rina, Decker thought, as blood ran down his chest. But wasn’t she cuffed to the wheel? He was disoriented. He was seeing things, hearing things.

Rina kneeling over him now, still crying out, “Oh, my God, oh, my God.” Her gun was shaking in her hands. Decker thought: I could have really used that sucker a minute ago.

Rina put down the gun and ripped off her kerchief, wrapping it around his arm. Pressed the cloth hard against his wound. Deep-throbbing pain. But he could take it. What was bothering him most was Noam screaming. Rina must have read his thoughts. She yelled at the boy to shut up and his screams immediately quieted to tiny, sniveling gasps.

“That motherfucker shot me!” Decker grunted out. He was getting increasingly agitated. “I don’t fucking believe it! That motherfucker actually shot me!”

Rina didn’t answer. Decker took one look at her face and knew he was in bad shape. He was cold, he was numb, he was slipping. And Rina, poor kid, trying so hard to hide her hysteria…

“You gotta tie above the wound,” Decker whispered. “Fucker hit my artery! I’m gonna fucking bleed out unless you fucking do something!”

Rina pulled off the bloody kerchief and tied it farther above the wound.

“Tie it tighter,” Decker said. He was starting to tremble badly. Swell, he thought. I’m going into hypovolemic shock. All those bleeding bodies he had tended as a medic in Vietnam. What a way to go! “Arm’s gotta feel numb for the bleeding to stop.”

Ripping off the kerchief, Rina tried again. Peter was quaking violently. Oh, God, please don’t let him die! She yanked the ends with all her might. It wasn’t enough. Blood still leaked out.

“Get a stick,” Decker said, chattering. “You gotta tie…the knot—”

“Yes, I know, I know,” Rina said. “Don’t talk, Peter.” Lots of scrap on the ground. She found a metal spike and tied the ends of the kerchief around the middle of the spike. Rotating the spike around its center, she twisted the cloth tighter and tighter. Blood spurted, then spurted again, finally sputtering to a slow leak, then nothing.