
āAhh.ā Jack nodded, taking a second to down his next tiny bite of pita. āBurnās more severe than the lash, though. Woulda been nice to ease the swellinā, but.ā He shrugged. Medicine, man.
Abel Lazarus Though- I guess I was recently strangled too.ā

āNo kiddinā? Person, ār you just walk into some pull cords wrong?ā
He still didnāt actually look to see the bruising. What did he care? Nothing he could do for it now, and he wouldnāt have, anyway. Already getting paid for something else, so not much room for benefit. Or what, would helpingāve made Abel like him? Pretty sure the guy voted to kill him, or something. Little late for that.
Abel Lazarus ā⦠I donāt think people realize how much they hurt when someoneās really trying to hurt you with one.ā
Yeah, there was definitely a story there. One he didnāt really care enough about to hear⦠and wouldnāt be able to keep up with, either. At least not right now.
Still a little woozy, he dragged the broken plastic across the side of his exposed forearm like some sudden fasciotomy. But even with a slightly sharper edge, it didnāt leave any damage beyond a white line. He stared, flexing his fingers to watch it shift. Hard to tell if this was helping.
Abel Lazarus ā⦠itās a good thing you donāt need a knife for hummus.ā

āTā⦠spread it, maybe.ā He was clearly not in condition to use his context clues right now, so heād just respond to the base statement. And eat some hummus.
Oh, a question. Uh. Probably shouldāve been simple. If he could think.

āEasy tā get your hands on, easy tā control.ā Sure beat some other weapons he could name.
Stomach twisting, he scored a couple more sad little lines on his arm. This was not speeding up his eating pace.