“Oh, Jesus, Brit, what the fuck did you do?” Joe jumped to his feet, palms pressed to his forehead, turning away.
“Oh shit,” Willow whispered, dropping to her knees beside her friend. “Oh shit, oh shit, Britta…”
“Told y’all to leave me there,” Britta said plainly. “I fuckin’ told y’all—” Britta’s words abruptly cut off. Wet sprayed across my face. I blinked, temporarily stunned as I took in the blood spatter across Britta and Willow’s equally owl-eyed expressions, both of them gaping at Britta’s partially severed limb.
With a panicked shout, Joe brought his ax down again, severing Britta’s leg only a few inches above her bite.
And then Britta began to scream. “My foot! Joey, my goddang motherfuckin’ foot!”
“Hold her still!” Joe shouted. Tossing the ax away, he began fumbling with his belt buckle, pulling the thick strip of leather free. I dropped down beside Britta, attempting to help Willow hold her still as blood pumped from the stump, coating my hands in seconds. Britta continued to scream and thrash in my grip, all the while cursing Joe.
Whipping off his shirt, Joe sat on Britta’s middle, working frantically to wrap it around her bleeding stump. Securing the belt over the makeshift bandage, he pulled and tied it tight.
Britta was still screaming and thrashing, though her movements had begun to slow and her screams had become nonsensical. Willow continued sobbing at her side, hugging Britta more than she was holding her.
“Help me get her in the truck,” Joe said, breathless. Jumping up,he swiped a blood-soaked hand across his face. “We gotta get back to camp—we gotta get her to Doc.”
At some point between lifting her off the pavement and laying her across the back seat, Britta stopped fighting. Willow scrambled inside, cradling Britta’s lolling head in her lap, while Joe began pulling various things from beneath the seats, shoving whatever he found beneath Britta’s ruined leg, in order to keep it elevated.
Shirtless, face and chest painted in Britta’s blood, he turned to me, the whites of his eyes stark against his bloodied skin. “Drive, brother,” he growled. “As fast as you fuckin’ can.”
