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You Confront the Bleeding Man "Hold on there," you warn the man. "Stop." The huge man rocks unsteadily on his feet, blood squishing out of his Size 14 athletic shoes. One eye is squeezed shut; the other blinks out red drops. "You've got a disease," you say slowly and clearly. "You have to go to the hospital." The man staggers forward another step, his arm sweeping a box of petri dishes off a lab table. A computer monitor rocks and topples off the table, its cord dragging the computer after it. "Go to the hospital," you repeat. "Do you understand?" Slowly the man brings his hands up, right under your nose. Thin red blood forms pools in his palms. Then your arms are seized in grips of steel, and you find yourself propelled backward. |
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An Access Excellence Science Mystery sponsored by Genentech, Inc. |
