The stabbing pain in my foot brought tears to my eyes. The painkillers had worn off. Joshua winced as he steered the car. He was bleeding from a long gash on his upper arm and blood trickled down his tanned skin, dripping onto his jeans and the steering wheel. I twisted in my seat to take a closer look. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “It’s just a scratch.” “Doesn’t look like a scratch to me.” I lifted the shredded sleeve and inspected the wound. It wasn’t deep as far as I could tell, but I wasn’t a doctor. “There are a few belts behind the passenger seat. I keep them in case I need a tourniquet.” I reached behind my seat and felt around for one of the belts. My eyes swept round the car, searching for something I could use as a dressing. “Glove compartment,” Joshua said through gritted teeth. The first sign he was in pain. There was something in there that looked like it could be used as a bandage.
