Apocalypse Aftermath (54 page)

Jessica didn’t have the heart to get exasperated after she’d already blocked off the door.  Not after he’d taken this kind of damage for her.  For Candice.  “Sure.  Candice, stay here.”

She collected the
MP5 and slung it back into place, then shoved the armoire out of the way and limped back downstairs; this time with the cane in hand so she could use it.  She had the MP5 gripped one handed, hanging from the sling but at the ready, as she eased downstairs through the house and went to the kitchen.  Rummaging through the cabinets turned up a pair of plastic pitchers, along with some oversized tumblers.  She made herself not hurry as she returned to the bedroom, knowing she’d put a lot of pressure on her knee in the past hour or two.

“Good.  Fill them both up and drop two tablets in each.”
Austin said when she got back.  He tossed a little tube of something toward the end of the bed.  He’d already laid out bandages and tape, little one-use packets of medical wipes, and a tube of ointment from the supplies out of his pouches.

“I’ll do it.” Candice said, taking the pitchers and going into the bathroom.

Jessica replaced the blockading armoire and picked up the tube on the end of the bed curiously.  “Purification tablets.” she read, squinting at the writing barely visible in the limited available light.

“Yup.  Time to stop trusting the water.  No telling if the treatment plants are still working.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Simple.” he grinned.  “I’m going to lay here and act manly while you clean all four holes with disinfectant wipes, flush them with water, then slather them in AB cream before taping some bandages into place.”

“Is that going to work?”

“It’s gonna hurt like hell.” Austin admitted.  “You’ll need to get down in the holes with the disinfectant, and try to be gentle.  They need to be cleaned up, but if you’re not careful you might do some more damage to my innards.”

“I’ve still got some painkillers.” she said.  “Want some?”

“Oh hell yes.” he nodded.

Jessica limped around the bed and looked through her purse until she found the little plastic bags of pills Dennis had given her back in Atlanta.  She felt her eyes dampen a little when she found them; she really hoped he was okay.  “Actually, I’ve still got some antibiotics he gave me too.”

“Yeah, couldn’t hurt.  I don’t think I’m going to bleed out at this point
, if they get bandaged, so infection is the real problem.”

She got the pills out and left them on the bedspread; though he grabbed and dry swallowed them without waiting on the water.  Jessica shrugged mentally and checked on Candice.  The girl was just finishing with the pitchers, having filled them from the faucet in the tub.  “They’re heavy.” Candice said when she saw Jessica in the doorway.

“Here.” Jessica said, reaching for them.  Candice gave them over, and Jessica carefully limped back into the bedroom with them.  She set them down on the table on Austin’s side of the bed and glanced around.  All the furniture was shelves, dressers, chests and such.  No chairs.

“Scoot over some so I can sit on the edge of the bed.
  I can’t kneel down and work at the same time with my leg.” she told him.  “Candice, open that little tube up and put two tablets in each pitcher.  Then see if you can swirl them around some without spilling.”

“I’m not messy.” the girl said, but she moved to obey.

Austin made some room, and Jessica positioned herself next to him.  She folded two of the towels together and had him roll over a little more, then laid them beneath him before opening the first of the disinfectant pads.  “Here we go.”

“I’m good.” he said, but she could hear the preemptive clench in his teeth.

She wiped around the edges of the wounds with the first pad, clearing away sticky blood that had dried to a gel-like consistency.  She flipped the pad and did the other wound on his back, then got out a new one and started daubing cautiously into the hole.  His breath hissed out a little, causing her to wince, but he bore up against it well otherwise.

It took her several minutes and a lot of psedu0-supressed groaning from Austin before she thought she’d done as much cleaning as she could.  “Done.”
she said, finished with the ones on his chest as he lay on his back.

“Okay.” he said, looking down at himself as she shined the light on the wounds on his front.  “Let’s try this with me like this.  Pour water slowly in. Not too much at one time.  If there’s a hole all the way through, I guess it’ll drain out the back.  That should flush it out.”

“Candice, hold the light for me.” Jessica said.

Candice took the flashlight and held it so Jessica could lift the first pitcher.  “Shouldn’t we do this in the bathroom?” the girl asked.

“I don’t care if the bed’s wet.” Austin said.  “Won’t bother me.  Just do it.”  He sounded like he wasn’t doing that well, which worried her as much as it made her agree with him.  The bed was better than the floor if he passed out, which she figured was a possibility at this point.  There was zero chance she’d be able to get him back on it if he was unconscious.

Carefully Jessica tipped some of the water onto him.  He flinched as she poured.  She found he was right; the water that didn’t run off his torso drained down into the hole
. And when she had him roll over a little so she could see, it was dribbling out the exit wounds.

When she finished with the water, she went to town on him with the cream, putting a thick
coating all around and in the wounds before starting to stick bandages on.  Getting into the bullet holes felt quite uncomfortable, but she knew it was necessary.  And he didn’t complain once.

“Good.  Thanks Mom.” he said when she was finished.

“How are those pills working?” she asked him, taking the light from Candice and directing a little of the side scatter so she could look at his face.  The pain lines that had creased his face were easing, but he was still sort of pale.

“They’re kicking in.  The bandages will have to be changed in the morning, and probably every six to twelve hours after for at least the next few days.  How many of those AB pills
do you have left?”

“I think maybe ten or so.”

He nodded.  “Okay, wash up and that’s it for now.  Thanks.”

“No; thank
you
.” Jessica said, reaching and feeling his forehead.  He was sweating some, but she didn’t think he was particularly warm.  If he didn’t get a fever and he didn’t keep bleeding, things would probably be okay.  She knew that much.  “You got us out of there.”

“We got us out of there.” he corrected her gently.  “In fact, I think it’s fair to say you did more than me.  I just caught some bullets.”

“So I didn’t.  So Candice didn’t.” she whispered.  “Thank you.”

“Wash up before that blood dries and let’s get some sleep.  My vote is anything else we need to do can wait until daylight so we’re not fumbling around with flashlights.”

“Big tough he-man’s afraid of the dark?”

“Big tough he-man’s tired.” he grinned.  “And don’t make me laugh, I think
I’ve got some cracked ribs.”

Jessica winced and limped into the bathroom to wash her hands.  She found a fresh towel that she brought back with her, thinking he might want it to cover the wet ones he was laying on, but he was passed out on his back.

“Is Austin going to be okay?” Candice asked quietly.

“I hope so.” Jessica said as she sat down on the bed.

“He’s tough.” the girl whispered, her tone almost prayerful.

Jessica reached for her daughter and stroked her fingers through her hair.  “He’s tough.  Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

She didn’t let her tears finally fall until she was certain Candice had gone to sleep.  And, even then, Jessica couldn’t give into the true depth of fear and pain she felt.  She lay in the bed listening to Austin’s painful breathing next to her, feeling Candice’s soft breaths as the girl lay nestled up against her, and had to work hard to cry without breaking down into hysterics.

What was
she going to do?

“How is he Doug?”

Peter started to look up, then stopped when the paramedic working on him put a hand on his back between the shoulder blades.  “Don’t move.  I’m not done.”

“I’m fine.” Peter griped, settling back down on the examination cot.  It was a simple field cot with elevated legs that raised it up enough for medical personnel to work on someone without having to lean over or sit.  He lay face down on it with his shirt and undershirt off.  Both were heavily bloodstained on the back, enough so that he’d resolved – without admitting it – to let the medic tend to him.  He felt fine except for the pain that wasn’t too bad at the moment, but the amount of blood on the clothing told him there was a limit to macho willpower that he might be pushing.

“He’s lucky.” the paramedic said as he resumed his work with tweezers, picking debris out of the wounds on Peter’s lower back.  “Most of these are only bruises and superficial cuts, but he’s got one here deep enough to have chipped a vertebrae if it’d been about an inch to the left.”

Shellie Sawyer pulled a nearby chair closer and sat down next to Peter’s head.  “If I didn’t know your type from growing up with my dad I’d be surprised it took you this long to let someone have a look at you, but I do, and I’ll just say I’m glad you’re not as pigheaded stubborn as pop.”

“Your dad sounds like my kind of guy.” Peter grinned.  “I’m fine.”

“You’re going to need stitches on the deep one, and a couple in a few of the others wouldn’t hurt either.” Doug disagreed.  “You’re going to have to take it easy for at least a week after they go in or you’ll just pull them out and open the wounds worse than they are now.  And I’ll warn you now my stitches suck, so they won’t take much pulling to come out.”

“Never did like you fellas much, you know that?” Peter said over his shoulder.

“Right Mr. Tough Guy.  Just lay there and let me work.  I know that look she’s got, and if you’re not willing to cooperate because I’m trying to keep you whole, do it because she’s got plans for you.”

“I do, you know.” Sawyer said with a wry smile.  “You said I was in charge, and I hope you meant it.”

“Every word.” Peter agreed.

“Good.  Because as much as I respect everything your people have done so far, they’re not you.  I’m better off with a master guns than two corporals and a large handful of specialists and privates.  And based on what I’ve seen of them so far, they agree.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, for starters, Doug is right.  You need to take it easy and do some healing.”

“You know, I was already married once, and we didn’t have any kids.  There’s a limit to how much nagging I’m going to put up from anyone now that Amy’s gone.”

“I’m sorry.” she said, her face clouding a little.  Peter shrugged lightly, then scowled when Doug pushed him back flat on the cot and cleared his throat.

“It’s fine.  My sob story’s one of millions at this point.  I did my grieving and now there’s work to do.”

“I may not be your wife or your daughter
or your mom, but I’m going to nag you anyway.” she sighed.  “I’m not kidding, I really need someone with your experience.  At least until I can get some of what you and your people know spread around.”

“Relax, I’ll be good.  I just don’t want to take too much shit over it.”

“I’m sure your unit can handle the shit giving.” Sawyer chuckled.  “As for me and everyone else, we just need training to replace all the people I’m supposed to have with me who didn’t make it in when the call went out.  I’m short on everything, especially the skills people don’t think about when they envision putting a few thousand into a camp for any length of time.  My plan calls for them, but I’ve got enough holes in my personnel roster to make fulfilling some of my requirements pretty challenging.”

“Logistics, policing, maintenance, and waste disposal.  Just for starters.” Peter nodded slightly.  “I know.  This isn’t the first relief operation I’ve been attached to.”

“See, I won’t even have to spend a lot of time convincing you.”

“I’ll be good.” Peter repeated.  “Just so you know, I’m a master mechanic along with my many other sins.  Whitley’s an electrician; Mendez knows computers and comms; Roper is logistics and kitchen, though he’ll bitch like you won’t believe if you ask him to cook; Dorne was a MP; Barker
’s a fireman; and Nailor was intelligence.

“
Smith and Oliver are straight infantry, but that’s as useful as the rest of them considering the circumstances.  Oh, and Crawford was a cannon cocker, but she’s crazy like a fox and has a knack for tackling the hard jobs.  Don’t let her attitude fool you, she’s really pretty sweet if you manage to hammer your way past her shell.”

“How long does that take?”

“I’ll let you know when I find out.” Peter grinned.  “But I’m sure she’s quite nice under all that armor of hers.”

“I’ve got jobs for all of you.” Sawyer nodded.  “Mendez is actually already out holding a meeting with everyone who volunteered to watch the perimeter.  Said he’s going to take a first pass through weeding out the really hopeless ones before you have a look.”