Harold clicked his tongue in irritation and looked up to see if he could see the others. The lift looked like a distant streetlight; the sort that are so high they made no impact on the darkness at ground level and seem to have been installed solely to discourage astronomers from ever seeing past the light pollution. He couldn't see either of them. How long did it take to fly up and collect a child, anyway? Not this long, surely?
He looked back at the zombie, who seemed to be playing with himself. “Well, how long until you're all fixed again?”
Dill tried poking his radius back under his skin. “To be honest, I don't know. I've not been this messed up before.” The bone popped out again, tearing the skin even further. “I think I might need some help.”
“What sort of help?” Harold peered closer at him, filled with a warring mixture of fascination and disgust. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get the bone to mend.”
“Try wrapping your good hand around the arm to hold the bone in place. That always used to work with my model aeroplanes when I was a kid. Apply the glue and count to a hundred elephants.”
“Elephants?” Dill's eye glittered in the light of the phone's beam. “That's where I was going wrong, then. I was counting sheep.”
“Well then. Hurry up. We can't stay here all day. I think my phone battery is running out. I'm down to two bars.”