[Ethan's POV]
The rhythmic clacking of the train wheels was the only sound in the freezing cargo car.
I sat on an intact wooden crate, my canvas jacket and shirt stripped off, shivering as the icy wind whipped through the open doorway. Claire was standing in front of me, her hands covered in my blood, holding a curved suturing needle she had pulled from our emergency medkit.
"This is going to hurt," she warned, her voice tight.
"Just do it," I gritted out, biting down on a rolled-up piece of leather strap.
Claire didn't hesitate. She pushed the needle through the torn flesh of my shoulder. I muffled a groan, my muscles locking up as she pulled the thick nylon thread tight. She worked quickly and efficiently, her face pale but her hands perfectly steady.
