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bones shattering. Harvey's soft spongy fingers split open like rotting pieces of meat, spewing out a crimson mixture of blood, tissue and chunks of flesh. |
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Just as quickly, it was over. |
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Harvey reeled backward, still too much in a state of shock to scream. He slumped against the wall, stupidly inspecting what was left of his right hand. In a matter of a few short seconds, the thing had reduced his hand to a throbbing, mangled and shapeless mass of pulpy flesh. It dangled uselessly from his wrist. |
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Cappy stared at him, tears of terror streaming down her face. "My God!" |
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Harvey slid to the floor, cradling his crushed hand in his remaining good one. He was sobbing. Cappy was bending over him, choking in her fear. |
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"We've . . . we've got to get you to a hospital." |
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Klinger looked up at her with his pathetic pain-filled eyes, and for the first time since she had met him, she was seeing something in his twisted face. He was shaking his head. |
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"We . . . we can't," he finally managed. |
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"What do you mean, we can't? For Christ's sake, Harvey, look at the way you're bleeding." |
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"We can't," he repeated. "You'll have to put a tourniquet on it." |
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