29Sticky MessThe moon hung right overhead when Billy regained consciousness. The sticky mess of blood that poured from his wound and saturated his sports top had stopped flowing. The stain was almost invisible against the red and orange hues of the material, but he could feel the liquid wet and heavy when he shifted slightly. He wasn’t too sure how much blood he had left inside him, but the coldness in his extremities wasn’t normal on this warm night.
From his angle on the pavement, he could see the occasional rodent emerge from hiding places among the rocks and cracks in the road. The blood scent had made them brave. One even came close and lapped at the puddle that trickled from him to the gutter. The small pool had started to solidify, but still gave off a fresh scent. f*****g rats.
B
