Jon had managed to drag himself out of the tangle of tall grasses and was lying on his left side. He immobilized the right arm with his left hand by holding the elbow firmly against his torso. Marc leaned down close enough to see the shattered clavicle and horrendously shredded subscapularis muscle. Marc dropped his weapon and took off sprinting toward the quadcopters. “We need the med kit!” he hollered over his shoulder.
Using her multi-tool Inna cut Jon’s shirt away. She wadded the garment and used it to apply pressure to the wound, hoping to staunch the prolific bleeding.
Even though Jon was flitting at the edge of shock, he remained conscious. “How bad is it?”
Inna swallowed. “Uhm, you’re hurt, my friend. When Marc brings the medical kit, we’ll get the bleeding stopped. How’s the pa
