He’d been shot through the armpit. The bullet’s violent dig had found a heart line and blood swelled from the pumping wound. “I will die soon,” the man said, his voice drowning. “Hush,” Henry said, holding him to his chest. “I’m all fucked up inside,” the man managed to say. His chest was like a bloody sponge. The ground was frozen and so the pumping blood that slugged from the severed artery pooled bright red. For all Henry had seen it was still hard to believe there was so much blood in a man. “You got any bombs on you?” the man said, his breath rapid and shallow. Between gasps he purred in
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