It was a fatal blow. That much he knew. He wouldn't live, not very long. Still, Don saw the attempt, the effort to take the knife from him. He knew what the younger kid was trying to do. Keep the plug in, so to speak.

Don had no intention of allowing him to live longer than necessary. Surely Armin knew that prolonging his life in this place, once it was claimed, was pointless. There was a time to fight, and there was a time to die. He'd lost the fight. There was only one course left.

So he began to pull, feeling the warm blood trickle onto his hand as he did so.