Post by Leon Silverblood on Mar 12, 2007 5:30:14 GMT -5
"Mother FUCK," he swears as his revolver presses to Murray's temple just after the syringe sinks into him. He stares at the zombie as it falls to the ground, trying like hell not to fire anyway as his pistol follows it down. He looks at Tova and speaks in outrage and misery "I don't have any more syringes!!!!"
After a moment's thought, he decks Tovarisch in the nose and mounts his falling body, legs astride Kruschev's torso. He obliterates Tovarisch's face with blood as he knocks him unconscious with several more punches, then pulls out a blade that is apparently half Arkansas Toothpick and half scalpel. He cuts several inches of flesh off around the bite, even carving away bone, though it takes several more brutal, chipping slashes. He frowns as he works, seeing the infected flesh fly off as well as blackened bone where the curse has already spread. He takes of plenty of clean bone to be sure, and patches the horrid wound with a rum-soaked bit of gauze.
When the wound is healed, if it does, Tovarisch will need to soak it in cold water before he can remove that gauze, unless he wants to bleed worse. The packed opening is covered by latex-impregnated fabric, the so-called self-adhering wrap. He kicks Murrays body repeatedly, swearing and swearing and swearing some more as he makes sure his pistol is centered not on Murray's forehead, but Tova's. Leon waits, lips twitching, eyes blinking hard to keep his vision clear. He swears again, knowing he can't blame Murray any more than he could blame Kruschev or Lachryma.
After a moment's thought, he decks Tovarisch in the nose and mounts his falling body, legs astride Kruschev's torso. He obliterates Tovarisch's face with blood as he knocks him unconscious with several more punches, then pulls out a blade that is apparently half Arkansas Toothpick and half scalpel. He cuts several inches of flesh off around the bite, even carving away bone, though it takes several more brutal, chipping slashes. He frowns as he works, seeing the infected flesh fly off as well as blackened bone where the curse has already spread. He takes of plenty of clean bone to be sure, and patches the horrid wound with a rum-soaked bit of gauze.
When the wound is healed, if it does, Tovarisch will need to soak it in cold water before he can remove that gauze, unless he wants to bleed worse. The packed opening is covered by latex-impregnated fabric, the so-called self-adhering wrap. He kicks Murrays body repeatedly, swearing and swearing and swearing some more as he makes sure his pistol is centered not on Murray's forehead, but Tova's. Leon waits, lips twitching, eyes blinking hard to keep his vision clear. He swears again, knowing he can't blame Murray any more than he could blame Kruschev or Lachryma.
