Zorn returned his attention to the woman on the pole. The nails, while long, didn’t appear to be too difficult to work with.
“I think I can pull them out,” he said.
She nodded, bracing herself.
“Okay.”
“I’ll start with your hands.”
“Okay.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“Just do it!”
Zorn took a deep breath and let it go.
“One. Two. Three.”
Her screams were lost in the roar of the barbarians as they streamed from the exits and onto the highway. She slumped to her knees, pulling her feet right off the nail, and passed out, blood pooling in the dirt. Zorn’s fur had fallen off, so he picked it up and draped it over her again. He didn’t know what to do about the bleeding. Pack the wounds with dirt? Don’t be an i***t. No, a tourniquet! He ripped off his shirt, tore it into strips. He wrapped t
