CHAPTER 37Sam swept the flashlight up the pants legs, but they were white only to the knees. From there the cloth was a deep, wet red, drenched in blood. Ping lay crumpled over the curb, his back accordianed at an unnatural angle, as if he had been poured in place. Sam ran to him and crouched down, shining the light into Ping’s unrecognizable face. His features were swollen into each other, the back of his head flattened against the asphalt. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Sam lifted and cradled Ping’s upper body, discovering his arms were missing.
Mara ran up to them as Sam turned to her, holding up his blood-soaked hands. “What did you do to him? His arms are gone! He’s dying!”
Mara’s eye filling with tears, she said, “I—I don’t think you should try to move him until we can get some hel
