by N. C. Reed
“Clay,” Patricia looked hesitant again. “Clay what if he dies? I'm a Nurse Practitioner for heaven's sake! The only time I've ever dealt with stuff like this was when I was in school doing clinical work in the ER at Vandy! And as bad as I hate to admit it, that was a long time ago.”
“You're all he has, Patricia,” Clay shrugged. “If he has to have surgery then you're all he has. Do you know of anyone else that could help him? Was there a surgeon in Peabody before all this blew up?”
“No,” Patricia replied with a heavy sigh. “Just family practitioners. Doctor Phelps had done ER work before coming here and I'm sure had done some emergency surgery before but. . .he moved away just before you got home. The nearest place I know of would be Columbia or Murfreesboro, and…just getting there might result in more of you getting hurt, not to mention that he might not survive the trip.”
“So, you're all he's got,” Clay nodded, having already come to the same conclusion. “Patty, if he's going to die without it, then whatever risk there is to him having surgery is pretty much a non-issue, right?”
“You know I hate that,” she grinned slightly, chiding him for calling her 'Patty'. “And there's another problem to consider,” she went on more seriously. “He's unconscious right now, but that doesn't mean he will stay that way. I don't have anything that will serve as an anesthesia while we operate. He could wake up while I'm wrist deep in his chest wall trying to get to that bullet. That could kill him too. Probably quicker than not acting at all might.”
“What do you need?” Clay asked her at once. “Whatever it is, we 'll get it.”
“Clay there's nowhere to get it,” Patricia shook her head. “It's not something you just have laying around. It's expensive for one thing and no one around here would need it anyway.”
“Nitrous,” Tandi said suddenly and the others looked at him.
“You said there was nitrous in your clinic that the dentist used when he was working,” Tandi reminded her. “How much might there be? You said in a pinch that would work. What if we gas him, and strap him to the table so that he can't move? Just in case he wakes up? That would work, right?”
“It…” Patricia began to speak and then stopped, hesitating.
“Patricia, we aren't looking for guarantees,” Clay told her softly. “We're all lucky to have made it this far, believe me we know what hard odds look like. But if Bear isn't going to make it without the surgery then surely there's no reason not to try. Will this nitrous work?”
“Maybe,” she nodded slowly. “Nitrous is used by dentists to dull a patient's senses. They will likely remain conscious but be completely oblivious. They do still retain motor functions, however,” she warned. “If he moves at the wrong time…” she left the statement hanging.
“We're moving,” Clay told Juarez. “Five minutes. We 'll take the Cougar only. Transfer the Ma Deuce to there. Tommy, tell the others where we're going and that we 'll be back as soon as possible. Then get Chip. Doc, you too,” he told Maseo. “You can look for whatever else you may need. We go in five so get with it.”
The men scattered leaving Clay alone with his sister-in-law.
“Thank you for going to get Abby,” she said softly. “And I am so sorry.”
“Not for you to be sorry for,” Clay replied evenly. “I don't recall you blaming me for what happened anyway. Tell Doc if there's anything else from there you need. We should be back within the hour.”
“We 'll be ready by then,” she nodded and returned to the exam room, thinking about what she had to do to make it a surgery.
Five minutes later, Chip at the wheel, the Cougar roared out of the drive on its way to Jordan once more.
-
“Where did Gordy get off to?” Patricia asked the twins, who were sitting outside the clinic in case they were needed again.
“He went with Uncle Clay,” Leanne replied without looking up from the list she was perusing.
“He what?”
“He went with Uncle Clay,” Leon fielded the second question. “He's part of Uncle Clay's team now. Dresses like them and everything.”
“What are you-, he most definitely is not a part of your Uncle Clay's team!” she cut her third question short as the import of Leon's words hit her.
“Yes, he is,” Leanne was nodding, though still hadn't looked up. Even as she nodded she picked up a tablet and marked something off. “He went with him last night, too. And haven't you noticed? Whenever Uncle Clay needs someone to go with him, it's always Gordy.”
“He trusts Gordy,” Leon nodded in agreement. “He trusts us too,” he had to add. “It's just that we do different things, that's all. We're all a part of his outfit!” the teen declared proudly.
“The hell you are,” Alicia's voice cut into the conversation and everyone looked to see her standing near the door, having entered while the others were talking.
“What are you two doing here?” she demanded crossly.
“They've been helping with-” Patricia began but Alicia wasn't done speaking.
“You're both going home, right now!” Alicia demanded. “Sneaking out of the house. I'll teach you to run off without telling someone!”
“We didn't run, or sneak,” Leanne told her, neither twin moving from where they were working. “And we're helping with the clinic right now so we have to stay. If you insist then we 'll be home as soon as we know they don't need us anymore.”
“Don't talk back to me!” Alicia almost screeched, bringing Kaitlin Caudell out of the treatment area to see what was happening. “You get up from there and start for home right now!”
“No,” Leon shook his head as he flipped another page on the thick sheaf of papers he was holding. “Sorry Mom, but we have work to do.”
“Alicia, please keep your voice down,” Patricia interrupted. “I have-”
“Don't tell me how to talk to my children!” Alicia shrilled at her sister-in-law. “Especially after yours ran off last night to God knows where!”
“You need to shut the hell up or else take that screaming somewhere else,” Kaitlin told her coldly. “We have two gunshot victims we're treating right now and your yelling and screaming right outside the treatment area isn't helping. Now either calm down or get out.”
“Who do you think you-”
“Nate,” Kaitlin spoke calmly into a small radio she had taken from her pocket. “I need you at the clinic, please.”
“On the way,” Caudell's voice replied. “One minute.”
“You have one minute to get out before I have you thrown out,” Kaitlin told Alicia. “I don't care who you are or what your personal problem may be, but we're treating patients, both of whom are close to your brother who happens to own this place by the way. One of them is part of our group and was shot this morning. He's in bad shape and the last thing we need is a banshee wailing right next to the room where we're treating him. Now get. Out.”
Alicia's face had grown redder and redder until she looked-
“You look like a tomato, Mom!” Leon said cheerfully. “Look Leanne!” he elbowed his sister.
“Stop it, idiot, I'm busy here!” Leanne growled back but looked up at her mother. She stared for a second before bursting into laughter, her had shooting up to cover her mouth an instant later.
“She really does!” a muffled squeal came from behind her hand.
“Alicia, it's better if you go,” Patricia said even as Nate Caudell entered the building behind her. “We really do have an emergency here and you are not helping while they,” she pointed to the twins, “are.”
“Kait, what's going on?” Caudell asked, frowning. “I need to be making a circuit.”
“Mrs. Tillman can't seem to find the door,” Kaitlin told him flatly. “Help her out of here so Bear can rest, would you? I'm afraid she's going to disturb him.”
Hard, cold eyes turned to Alicia at that and she took an involuntary step back, swallowing.
“Mrs. Tillman, I'd ask that you please exit the area so tha
t they can continue to treat my friend, who was shot this morning in the line of duty. I would greatly appreciate it.” He was painfully over-polite. While his tone was soft and his words gentle, his eyes in no way revealed any softness or gentleness of any kind. None.
Looking once more at her children, their heads huddled together as they discussed whatever it was they were working on, Alicia decided that discretion was called for here and retreated with a shaky nod. She did take the opportunity to slam the door on the way out, but none of the people in the building cared about that.
“Wow,” Kaitlin was shaking her head at Alicia's antics. “Thanks Nate.”
“No problem,” Caudell nodded. “You guys okay? How's Bear?”
“We're fine,” Kaitlin nodded. “And he's stable.”
“Sorry about that,” Leanne offered quietly. “She's. . .that's just the way she is sometimes,” she shrugged as if to say 'what can you do?'.
“A hospital or clinic treatment room isn't the place for that behavior,” Kaitlin shook her head. “And you two have nothing to apologize for,” she told the twins. “I for one and damn grateful you're here and for everything you've done.”
“Thanks!” the pair replied in unison, sitting a little higher in the chair now.
“Do you two realize how creepy it is for the both of you to speak simultaneously like that?” the nurse asked, head tilted to one side as she studied the twins.
“Yes,” they replied as one, going back to work. Simultaneously.
“I see.”
-
“Well, shit,” Juarez sighed as he examined the clinic's front. The building was trashed it looked like.
“I expected that,” Clay clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Don't sweat the small stuff, right? Let's go have a look. Keep the motor running,” he told Gordy. “Tommy, we're heading in. Cover us and maintain a watch.”
“Roger that.”
Clay, Maseo and Juarez dismounted, Clay taking the lead and moving at once to the door of the clinic. A stand-alone building about the size of a small strip mall, the door wasn't all that strong to start with and someone had made short work of it already. He cautiously opened what remained to see a wrecked waiting room with chairs thrown across the small area and pages from destroyed magazines littering the floor.
“Well, someone got tired of the long wait to see the doctor,” Clay joked. “Moving.” He slipped inside and swept the room, including the reception area that was visible from the waiting room.
“Clear,” he said aloud. “Moving.” With that he was through the hallway door out of the waiting area that lead to treatment rooms and offices. It was hanging from the bottom hinge, a large shoe print on the wood.
Clay and Juarez cleared each room as Maseo watched their backs from the door. Once done Clay gave the all clear to Maseo.
“Okay Doc, do your thing.”
Maseo went straight to the room Patricia had identified as the dentist's office. The cabinet was open, door askew and contents thrown about on the floor.
“Anything that isn't open, grab it and stuff it in a bag of some kind,” he told the others. They dutifully began doing just that. “Not just in here,” he added. “Bandages, alcohol wipes, anything like that. Long as it's not open, we can use it.”
“Got it,” Clay nodded and he and Juarez went to scrounging. Maseo said a soft, quick prayer as he opened the cabinet beneath the sink. The doors were closed so maybe…
“Yes!” he hooted as he found four precious bottles of nitrous oxide, 'laughing gas' as some called it. He quickly grabbed one of the bottles and began wrapping it in a blanket.
“I need one of you guys in here!” he called out. Juarez was there in an instant.
“Grab something to carry these in,” Maseo ordered. “Once these are in the Cougar, we've accomplished our mission. I need to get the gear that goes with it and we're officially done. Anything else we can grab is just gravy after this.”
“Roger that,” Juarez nodded and moved to get a laundry basket he had seen earlier. Dumping the contents in the floor he hurried back and began taking the bottles from Maseo as the medic finished wrapping each one.
“That's it,” Maseo reported. “Go.” As Juarez went, Maseo moved to grab the apparatus used to administer the gas, finding a partial bottle still attached.
“Lucky day,” he muttered to himself, wrapping the entire thing in yet another blanket. “Bossman!” he called and Clay appeared seconds later with a box in hand.
“See these?” he held up a sealed packet he took from the floor. “Make sure you get all of these that are still closed. We need these to administer this stuff.”
“Got it,” Clay nodded, looking at the package before he began rifling through the packages on the floor.
“Bottles secure,” Juarez returned.
“I'm taking this rig to the ride and securing it,” Maseo told them. “With this and just one of these,” he held up the kit, “we're golden. Take another two minutes and then I'd suggest we rock and roll on out of here.”
“Two minutes,” Clay nodded. “Call it off.”
Two minutes and twenty seconds later everyone was back aboard.
“Chip, take the roundabout in case anyone's watching,” Clay ordered. “From now on we never go straight home when we're in any of the rigs.”
“Got it,” Gordy nodded and put them on the road home.
“Will this work?” Clay asked as he sat down across from Maseo.
“It should,” the medic nodded. “Just have to see.”
Gordy drove a little faster than was actually safe and still it seemed to take forever to get home.
CHAPTER NINE
-
“His BP is dropping,” Kaitlin said softly to Patricia. They were waiting for the nitrous, all they could do at the moment.
“I see,” Patricia nodded. “If that keeps up it will be too dangerous to try this.”
“It's too dangerous not to,” Kaitlin shrugged. “We're in a position where we have to do it no matter what.”
“I'm not used to this,” Patricia admitted. “I work in a small-town clinic. I treat people with shingles. Lance abscesses. I give flu shots and tell people they need to stop smoking or lose weight. I haven't been near an emergency room since before Abby was born.”
“I'd tell you it's like riding a bike, but that's a lie,” Kaitlin shrugged. “I've done three tours in the ER over the last five years. At Herman, no one can work Trauma or ER for more than a year at a time. I was just finishing another year when all this started. Each time I was out, it seemed like I forgot how fast things happen. How hard it was. It always took a few weeks to get back into that groove.”
“We don't have a few weeks,” Patricia sighed.
“No, we don't,” Kaitlin agreed. “So, we suck it up and we get on with it,” she smiled, giving the Houston ER equivalent of a pep talk.
“Right,” Patricia snorted. “I-” she stopped as the roar of a powerful engine could be heard outside.
“They're back,” Kaitlin began bustling around setting things in place. “We're ready,” she nodded, trying to encourage Patricia as much as she could.
“Sure, we are,” Patricia managed to smile. Two minutes later Maseo came running in with a blanket wrapped bundle, looking for all the world like a proud papa.
“Got it!” he announced as he carried the bottle to the head of the bed and set it down. “How do I set this up?” he asked. “And what do we watch for?”
For the next ten minutes Patricia went over everything she had learned from the dentist about using the gas. It seemed woefully inadequate and yet it was all they had. Finally, she took a deep breath.
“We can't put this off any longer,” she told them. “Start him up,” she nodded to Maseo as she began to glove up. Kaitlin had already done so and was tying a mask around Maseo's face even as he worked to set the gas.
“Tandi will monitor the gas, respiration and BP,” Patricia said. “Kaitlin will assist me. Once we get
started we can't stop. We're so fortunate it's not funny that the bullet didn't tear through something like a vein or artery, but we can't keep this wound open for ever. His blood loss will begin threatening him even with transfusions. Speaking of which. . .”
“Two on deck and three on stand-by,” Leanne reported from just outside the doorway. “And in an emergency Big Jake is a universal donor.”
“Which is something else we're going to have to address, but that's for later,” Patricia noted. “All right then, let's get this show on the road. Lord,” she closed her eyes, “please be with us and watch over us as we work to save the life of a good and brave man. Guide our hands and clear our eyes so that we may do that which is needful for him. Forgive our sins and his as well as we bow in Jesus' name, Amen.”
“Amen,” both Tandi and Kaitlin echoed her.
“Forceps,” Patricia took a deep breath. “Suction around the wound for me.”
Adjusting the small light held to her head by an elastic band, Patricia began her attempt to save John Barnes' life.
-
Clay found himself with nothing to do for the first time in what seemed like days. Leaning against the side of the building containing the clinic and the apartments, he slid down to the ground, hands on his knees. He lay his helmet and other gear aside, along with his rifle, which he was careful to keep off the ground. They didn't bother anymore to hide the Skull and Bones gear since too many people at the farm now knew who it was. He was sure Amy Mitchell had figured it out anyway, but now everyone would know.
“Had to happen sooner or later,” he murmured to himself. He looked up at the sky, realizing with a start it was still early in the day. He was too tired to look at his watch for the time and didn't really care anyway. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, asking God to intervene on John's behalf.
“We've come too far from where we've been to fall here,” he said aloud. “Please let this work.”
“Hey Cowboy,” a gentle voice said and Clay's eye's flared open. He hadn't even realized he had gone to sleep. He looked up to see Lainie standing above him, a look of concern flitting across her beautiful features.
