Tom's instincts were screaming at him to do something to stop the bleeding. But what? He was no doctor, for one. And it wasn't like the situation was ideal to tend to injuries, you were being chased by a killer. But dammit, he couldn't just sit here and do nothing. "Where? Where're ya hurt?" Tom asked urgently, his voice gruff but tinged with worry.

The party in the mine had gone completely south. Who could have predicted that Harry Warden would show up tonight to take revenge on Tom?