"No," I gasped weakly, feeling too tired to do much. I struggled toget to my feet while holding my bloody stump with my good hand. Myonly chance was...to get a tourniquet.I staggered a few feet before I collapsed to the ground again, too weakto keep going. I'd already lost too much blood and it wasn't stopping.My whole team was dead... All my friends had been murdered in front ofme and at the rate I was losing blood, I'd be dead as well in just afew more minutes."My arm," I whispered,. Sean and Vicky turned to their meals and let Monica sit with her thoughts. Eventually, she, too, began to eat, though she didn't speak, not yet. The silence didn't feel strained. They had shared enough that not speaking could be companionable. As they neared the finish of their meals, Monica spoke again. "Why does Chrissie have all those tattoos?" "People chose different ways to express who they are, baby. Chrissie's mental picture of herself is more accurate, in her mind, if her body is. More

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