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‘Carl,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to—’
‘Don’t I? It’s that or’ – he paused – ‘or we die.’
‘Can you do it?’ she said. ‘Do you think you’ll be able to?’
He looked at her, his face drained of all colour and expression.
‘I don’t know. But I guess we’ll find out. And it has to be now.’
‘Oh my God,’ Mary said. ‘Carl—’
He shook his head and closed his eyes. She looked down, horrified, at the end of the bed. His left foot was straining against the strap, pointing forward in a grotesque parody of a ballet dancer. She could feel the twist in his body as his hip and thigh exerted pressure. His right foot pressed against the bed frame, adding to the force.
Slowly, his foot straightened. He gave a small cry, his face red, his lips pressed together.
The he stopped, moaning with pain.
He took a series of deep breaths, sweat beading on his brow.
‘Don’t look,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you to look.’
She nodded and turned away, her eyes shut. She felt his body tense as he began again, listened to the sound of his panting.
‘Jesus,’ he said, in a low voice. ‘Please.’
And then he groaned. It was like no sound she had ever heard, deep and primaeval and barely human.
It was followed by a sickening crunch as his bones broke. His groan grew louder and she shuddered.
She was also glad, as the noise he was making obscured the noise she could just make out underneath it.
The noise of flesh tearing and ligaments and tendons ripping as his foot separated from his body.
There was a last, guttural cry and then he fell silent. She opened her eyes.
He had done it. His foot was free, lying on the mattress but twisted at a terrible, unnatural angle. He lay completely still, his jaw slack, his mouth half-open. There was a sheen of sweat on his pallid face.
‘Carl,’ she whispered. ‘Carl. Are you OK?’
His mouth closed and he swallowed, then slowly licked his lips. He turned to her, his pupils dilated, his eyes red where the capillaries had burst.
He shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, his voice weak. ‘No, I’m not OK.’
‘You have to try the rest of the plan. Get your legs free.’
‘I can’t. I can’t move.’
He was in shock, lost within himself. She shook her head. This couldn’t be happening, not now.
‘You have to,’ she said, her voice strained with desperation. ‘You have to, Carl!’
He shook his head, and closed his eyes.
‘Carl,’ she said. ‘He’ll be here any minute. If you don’t focus you’ll have done this for nothing. You’ll have shattered your ankle for no reason!’
If he didn’t come round soon that wouldn’t matter anyway, because they’d both be dead.
‘Carl!’ she said. ‘Carl, please!’