In the failing light Rico could see the angry red streaks, and the flesh turning blue around the bandage.
The sight horrified him.
‘That’s poisoned,’ he said. ‘Hadn’t you better do something about it?’
‘What the hell do you think I can do, you dope?’ Baird said, exasperated. ‘Keep going, and make it fast!’
Rico continued to paddle. He kept glancing at Baird uneasily. Baird looked bad. Sweat beaded his face and his eyes seemed to have sunk into their sockets. He kept passing his hand across his forehead, and every now and then he swayed as if he were going to topple out of the boat.
‘Bet er lie down,’ Rico said feverishly. ‘You look bad.’
‘Aw, shut up!’ Baird said, but his voice lacked its usual snap. After a moment or so, he did lie down.
Rico was paddling more slowly now. There was a burning ache in his shoulders, and he could feel blisters forming on the palms of his hands. He kept digging the paddle into the water, but their progress was slow.
‘How much farther do you reckon we’ve got to go?’ he asked, after a long silence.
Baird grunted.