"You don't even have a bracelet!" He yelled, absolutely furious. What kind of game was it when the game makers changed the odds themselves? He knew, of course, there was nothing he could do, though he grabbed John's arm where he knew the tracker lay, as if maybe he could rip it out and save his friend.

"You don't even have a bracelet," he said again, much lower this time but with no less amount of fury. "John. John, do you have any idea what kind of poison it is? If there is something I can do to slow it, or--" Even asking, he knew there wasn't.