Gunshot wounds, knife cuts, whip marks.
Every type of wound Zoe Sawyer could imagine could be found on these men.
Some of their wounds were already festering and oozing pus. Others were flushed red, long since unconscious from a raging fever.
"Their condition is critical. They need immediate medical attention, or they won't even make it to tomorrow. They'll be dead by tonight!" Barry Quinn's eyes were fixed on a man huddled protectively beneath the others.
His condition was the worst of the five. His face was ghastly pale and his lips were bloodless, yet cold sweat continuously beaded on his temples.
Although most of his body was obscured, Barry Quinn's sharp eyes spotted a vicious gash on the man's exposed neck. The flesh was peeled back, looking exceptionally gruesome.
And judging by its length and trajectory, it was easy to imagine just how severe the injury must have been.
