"Let me see that," Marcus demands, reaching for her arm to gently tug the injured hand over for a cursory examination. It wasn't exactly easy to focus on the split knuckle while his head was spinning from the other information she'd dumped on him. The crazed raider gang that Griff had been rescued from had been Dugger's gang? Dugger had turned cannibal since Marcus had left them?
Actually, that was less surprising than it should have been. The man had been an opportunistic shit, quick to violence and sans impulse control. All it had taken for him to turn to rape was the addition of women to the group, so it probably would have only taken a little good old-fashioned hunger to bring the guy to cannibalism.
As he looked at Teagan's hand, Marcus thought briefly of the smaller man he'd stitched up in an alley. The one who'd said Dugger had killed Sarah and her husband shortly after Marcus had vanished. Had they been eaten, as well? Had the kid known that? Did it matter if he did or not?
"Should've brought this shit to me before now, MamÃ. Starting to infect," he tells her, letting her arm go so that he could fetch his kit from what would eventually be a kitchen area. Still, it was better late than never. He could flush it out, patch it up, and give her some antibiotics to knock out the infection so that the injury could heal.
"I ever tell you I fucking ran with Dugger a while?" he asks while gathering his things. "Not fucking long. Always was a maldito racisto. Didn't know he'd taken up eating people. Fuck. This CHUD bitch one of his, too?"