When Blackie hauled Ethan upright, Micah instinctively stepped forward to help steady him, acting before his mind could catch up to the danger.
SSSSZZZZT!
The instant Micah's skin touched Ethan's, a vicious sound split the air, like raw meat thrown onto a blazing grill.
"FUCK!" Micah tore his hand back with a strangled shout. His palm was a ruined mess of blistered flesh, skin peeled away and oozing, the cloying, sick-sweet stench of cooked meat rising from it.
"Heh heh…" Blackie let out a low, deeply satisfied chuckle.
"Blackie, you son of a bitch!" Micah snarled, cradling his injured hand.
