The sick must provide their own medical supplies as havoc grips Maracaibo, but shelves in the looted shops are bare
The air in the crowded emergency ward was already thick with the rusty smell of dried blood when the door burst open and two men barged in, screaming for help.
Between them, they carried a third man: barefoot, bare-chested – and bleeding freely from a deep wound which had nearly severed his right arm.
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