“What about the others?” someone asked, their voice muffled.
“Dope them and dump them. What do I care?”
“They might still be worth something,” the sniffer said, it’s thick voice somehow whining. “They might still have good bits. You can’t just dump them. You can’t just–”
“Control yourself,” the woman said. Her voice was cold, her tone final. The sniffer went silent without even a growl or a snort to express its displeasure. “The meat wagon’s nearly full as it is. We can’t go carrying an inferior stock. Give these ones a quick once over and if any of them have something worth keeping, cut it out of them. Otherwise, dope them and dump them.”
The heavy, uneven tread of the sniffer came closer. “This one’s worthless,” it said. “So’s this one. This one’s liver is borderline cirrhotic. Might want to get that checked out, buddy.” The sniffer paused. “This one’s good. The kidneys. Blood’s O-negative, too, and seems clean, if you want to collect it.”
“What about the girl?”
The footsteps came closer until they stopped right before her. The smell of medicine and rotting meat filled the air, and she could hear the sniffer’s labor breathing. “What about the girl, indeed,” it rumbled. The smell grew stronger, the breathing louder. She could feel the sniffer’s hot, moist breath on her face.
“Is she worth anything or not?”
“I’m thinking.” The sniffer leaned in and pressed its nose against her neck. Alyxa cringed. “Her eyes.”
“Yes. Take off her blindfold. I want to see her eyes.”