by N. C. Reed
“You okay?” she asked as she sat down next to him, taking his hand in hers.
“Waiting to see if Big John makes it,” he said. “He took a round while we were trying to get Abby. I should check and see-”
“I know. I was just inside. They're still working,” she told him, keeping him from getting up. “There's nothing for you to do right now. Just sit here and rest, okay? I'll be right here with you, I promise.”
“Okay,” he agreed without a fight which showed how drained he was at this point. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome Cowboy.”
-
Lainie had leaned her head over on Clay's shoulder and drifted off to sleep herself after a bit. She was startled awake by Patricia, calling Clay's name.
“Wake up Cowboy,” Lainie shook him carefully, expecting-
Clay was awake in an instant, hand diving for his rifle even as his off-hand groped for the knife on his harness.
“Easy, Cowboy,” Lainie didn't move, trusting Clay would recognize her and not hurt her. She saw that recognition come and breathed a little easier.
“Patricia wanted to talk to you,” she pointed to where Clay's sister-in-law was waiting.
“Patricia?” Clay was still groggy. “How did it go?”
“I need you to come with me,” Patricia said softly.
“Sure,” Clay got to his feet, brushing himself off. “How's John?”
“Just come with me,” Patricia once more dodged the question and started back inside. Clay followed, Lainie gripping his hand. As they neared the clinic itself he could hear Tandi Maseo.
“Come on, Big Bear. You can't quit on me you now you bum. Come on.” Clay looked inside to see Maseo astride Barnes, still on the table, administering CPR.
“He won't stop,” Patricia said dully, her eyes a bit lifeless. Kaitlin was using an Ambu bag on Barnes, but the sad look on her face clearly said she was just humoring the little medic.
“Come on, Bear!” Maseo kept pumping.
“He won't stop,” Patricia repeated. “John's pressure began to drop and we tried to get it back, but. . .his blood loss, the trauma, I don't know. . .his heart was still steady and fairly strong one minute and the next. . .Tandi was on top of him, pounding his chest. Just like that,” she pointed to him again.
“Dead?” Clay didn't register that Tandi was in trouble. Not at first. John was dead? His right hand? His friend through many a terrible ordeal and fun filled jaunt? The rock he leaned on when everything else in the world was moving? Gone? Dead?
“I am so sorry,” Patricia leaned against the wall, exhausted. “I tried, Clay. We all did. So hard.”
“You have to stop him, Clay,” Lainie whispered. “You can't let him go on like that.”
“Dead?” Clay didn't seem to hear.
“I 'll find the others,” Lainie told Patricia, who nodded as she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. Lainie slipped out to look for any of the other members of Clay's team, leaving Clay to stand there, stunned.
He had known it was possible of course, but…this was John Barnes they were talking about! He didn't die. No, Tandi was right. Just keep hitting him, that's all.
“Don't we have defibrillator?” he asked. “That would work, right?” Clay looked at his sister-in-law.
“Clay, he's gone,” Patricia told him again. “I swear to you we did everything we knew how, but the bullet. . .Clay there was more damage than we could see on the x-ray and…I think one of the shards from the rib may have moved because he had some blood frothing at his lips as he exhaled, but. . .Clay, John is dead. He is past whatever CPR can do for him. Oh, God, I am so sorry,” she sobbed, cradling her face in her open hands.
Dead.
“Clay, please,” Kaitlin pleaded from her spot, tears in her eyes. Clay felt like he was swimming in mud as he walked to where Tandi was still working. His limbs were so heavy that it seemed as if he'd never get there.
“Doc,” he said gently, taking Tandi by the shoulder. “Doc, you can stop now,” Clay told him. “It's okay.”
“I can do it, man,” Tandi shook his head, never pausing. “I can fix this shit, Boss. I can do it.”
“I know, but I don't think Bear wants it fixed, Doc. I think you need to stop and let him rest for a bit. He's earned it, you know?”
“We've all earned it,” Tandi didn't slow at all. “God, I hate it here! The heat and the spiders and the snakes and the leeches and don't even get me started on the fucking lizards. And the hyenas! Damn this country with its burned over land and fucking hyenas everywhere you look. Eating a man up when he's dead. What the hell kind of way is that to go, man? Tore apart by some fucking mutant dogs. That's some bullshit right there.”
It slowly registered on Clay that Tandi didn't know where he was. He had slipped across the edge and was mentally back in Africa. Could have been anywhere they had been until he mentioned hyenas. That was Africa.
“Remember what Mukimbo said about hyenas, man,” Clay replied finally. “Almost a dog wasn't a dog at all,” he laughed. A brittle sound that fooled no one.
“Yeah, old Mukimbo knows his shit, man,” Tandi nodded as he worked. “He's pretty smart for a bush banger. Wonder why he don't never leave here and go somewhere he could do better. You ever wonder that Boss? Gotta be better places than this to live around here. We've been to some of 'em. We could give one of 'em to Mukimbo and the others, right? I mean it ain't like the guys who were there when we visited will need it again. Right?”
“We can look into it,” Clay promised. He saw Jose Juarez and Jody Thompson at the door and sensed others behind. He waved to the two of them to come and help.
“Time for a break, Doc,” Juarez declared, walking up. “We're gonna let someone else do the heavy lifting for a while. It's you turn on the rest rotation.”
“It is?” Tandi stopped suddenly and looked at the other man. “Man, I didn't realize. I am beat, too. Promise you got this? You sure you don't mind?” he indicated the table and Barnes' body.
“Be an honor, man,” Juarez fought to keep his voice steady. “We 'll take care of him for you. Go and get some rest, okay? We've all had our turn.”
“Yeah, man,” the lithe medic jumped down as if he jumped off bodies of his friends every day. “Damn place takes it out of you, man.”
“It's the heat,” Jody Thompson nodded. “Too dry here, man. Like, it bakes you.”
“I know, right?” Maseo nodded as Thompson placed an arm on his shoulder. “I should give everyone salt tablet’s I guess.”
“We can do that later on,” Thompson told him. “None of us are overly active in this heat anyway…” the voices faded away as they left earshot.
“Someone needs to talk to Ellen,” Clay's voice was like wood. “She may or may not have seen him like this. He's not tracking right now.”
“I'll go,” Kaitlin said. She had pulled the sheet up over Barnes' face and smoothed it out so that it was neat. Juarez walked up to the body and placed his hands on Barnes' chest, pumping it like he was doing CPR.
“Jose, you do know that-” Kaitlin began but Juarez stopped after a minute.
“I promised him,” was all he said before turning away. “Boss, recommend we stand down for the day,” he said to Clay. “Ask the civilians to keep an eye out. We. . .we're gonna need some time.”
“Works for me,” Clay nodded absently. “See to it however you like, Pancho.”
“Won't be right, without him,” Juarez said suddenly.
“No,” Clay agreed. “Never be right again.”
Patricia had already felt like she was intruding, but as the rest of the team filed into the room the feeling intensified and she left them to it. She felt she had no right to be there at that moment.
Fifteen minutes later all of them came walking out and headed in different direction. Clay saw Lainie standing off to the side and went to her, letting her embrace him.
“Please see that he isn't disturbed,” Clay asked Patricia. “We 'll take care
of him in a bit. And ask Robert and Ronny to keep an eye on things tonight. I…I need to go home for a bit. I need to rest.”
“We 'll handle it, Clay,” Patricia nodded. “I 'll get them on it right now,” she promised.
“Come on, Clay,” Lainie whispered. “I 'll take you home.”
“Here,” a teary-eyed Leanne offered her a key. “Our cart is out to the side. Use it. We 'll walk up and get it later, just leave the key in it.”
“Thank you,” Lainie kissed her 'niece' on the forehead as she took the key. She guided an unresistant Clay to the cart and sat him down. Once she was sure he wasn't just going to fall out she headed for home.
Clay didn't even bother with the bed, just collapsed on the couch. It was all Lainie could do to get the rest of his gear off of him before he was completely gone.
“S'my fault, y'know,” he muttered as she removed his shirt so he would be more comfortable. “I did this.”
“No Clay, you didn't,” she whispered softly. “It's not your fault.”
“'m in command,” Clay mumbled. “Everything's my fault.”
“Shh,” she shushed him gently as she slid her legs beneath his head and sat down, holding his head gently in her lap as she stroked his hair.
“Hell of a thing…live through all that to die here,” Clay muttered one last half sentence before he was completely unconscious.
He had once sat in a chair with her sleeping in his lap because she had broke down. Now, Lainie would return the favor.
For however long it took.
-
Clay's body was tired but his mind refused to rest. He was awake again just after lunch and knew from experience that sleep would not return for some time. Lainie had drifted off to sleep again as she held him, and he eased away from her so as not to wake her. Draping a blanket over her, Clay walked outside, breathing the chill air.
Clay was no stranger to loss. To death in battle, empty chairs at mess. No one could lead the life he had and avoid the experience of losing a comrade.
But John Barnes had been like a fixed point. Solid, immovable, eternal. He had always been there and would always be there. All Clay ever had to do was turn around and Barnes was there, waiting. Ready.
A cold fury gripped him once again as he remembered why and how John Barnes had died. All because of a stupid girl in a woman's body.
He wished he had listened to Lainie. Stayed here. Instead he had gone even though he knew it was the wrong thing to do and it had cost him one of the best friends he'd ever known. He shook his head to try and clear it. He needed to be with the rest. There would be sorrow there as well and they deserved to see him there. They would need to vent, and who better to vent on than the man responsible for such a loss.
He needed especially to check on Tandi Maseo. He felt reasonably sure that sleep would restore his awareness, but with that awareness would come the awful truth that Big Bear was gone. The two had been very close, probably because of their vast difference in size, he'd never known for sure. It had never mattered. It might matter now, though, when it came to making sure Tandi was okay.
He eased back inside and grabbed his gear before heading over to the other farm. Lainie looked too peaceful to disturb, so he left her.
Soon he was walking down the drive, going to say goodbye to a friend.
-
Patricia had assisted Kaitlin in cleaning up after themselves and then cleaning Barnes' body. It was a gruesome task, sometimes, being in medicine. Today's tragedy was made worse for her in knowing that her own daughter was to blame for what had happened.
She didn't know where, exactly, she had gone wrong with Abby that she would turn out so much like her Aunt Alicia. It had to be genetic, Patricia decided. Something from Robert's side of the family. Some sort of DNA coding that hit suddenly at a certain age.
It wasn't that Abigail was necessarily a troublesome girl, far from it at least until the last two days. Abigail was smart. So very smart in fact that she often convinced herself that she knew more than anyone and that led her to wanting things done her way no matter what. But her daughter had always been reasonably level headed until yesterday. Stubborn, yes that was true, but that could be said for all of them or they'd not have accomplished anything. The one common factor of everyone on the Sanders' farm, herself and Ronny included, was that they refused to quit. Refused to give up.
But that was exactly what was on Patricia's mind right now. Giving up.
After things were finished in the clinic she had checked in on Greg Holloway, who was doing a lot better she was glad to see, and then wandered slowly home. She was tired, but far too keyed up to sleep, so she eventually found herself sitting on her own front porch, just looking out over the yard. She could see a flock of crows in the field across the road, picking steadily at the corn left on the ground from harvest. What was it a group of crows were called?
Murder. Yes, a murder of crows. How appropriate, she thought. A single tear slipped from her right eye and she wiped it away without noticing.
She couldn't do this. She couldn't provide the medical treatment they needed. Not like this. She wasn't trained or experienced enough for such things. Her lacking had cost her brother-in-law a good friend today. A friend that would not have been hurt at all had it not been for her daughter…
“-see my mom,” Patricia's solitude was cut short by the door opening and her daughter emerging from the house, followed by Samantha Walters.
“Oh, here she is!” Abby said, seeing Patricia. “Mom, Sam hit her leg when we trying to get out of the shoe factory. I think it's just a bruise, but could you look at it for her?”
“In a bit,” Patricia nodded absently, still looking across the road.
“Mom? Did you hear me? Samantha needs you to look at her leg!”
“I said in a bit, dear,” Patricia repeated. “Just let me rest here a bit and I 'll be glad to.”
“It won't take you but a minute, Mom,” Abby sounded on the verge of indignant.
“You've always been impatient,” Patricia's voice sounded hollow, or as if it were a long way away. “Always had to have things your way. Just the way you wanted, right when you wanted. You've never been able to exercise any patience.”
“What?” Abby's face reddened at being talked to like that in front of her friend.
“Your impatience was expensive today,” her mother seemed not to hear her. “One day, Abby, it will be you that has to pay that price if you're not careful. I doubt you can afford it to be honest. You're far too immature.”
“What?!” Abby almost screeched. “I am not immature!”
“You sneak out of here like a criminal, not telling anyone where you're going,” Patricia raised an eyebrow at her, seemingly focused finally. “You place yourself in danger because you have no idea what you're getting into or what you're doing, and then others have to come and get you. And suffer for your impetuous behavior. Your foolishness. Your stupidity.”
“Are you calling me stupid?” Abby very nearly yelled.
“Yes,” Patricia nodded slowly. “Among other things. Callous being one of them.”
“How am I callous?” Abby demanded.
“Callous and petty,” Patricia nodded. “Just like Alicia. Exactly like her in fact,” her head shook sadly.
“How do you figure!” Abby's hands were on her hips now as she fired back at her mother in righteous indignation.
“Look how you're acting right now when a good man gave his life this morning to undo your stupid behavior,” Patricia's voice cracked like a whip as her senses returned fully. “Standing here making demands on people with no thought to what they've been through or how they're suffering. You're a tiny, petty little girl that I don't even recognize!” she got to her feet. “You have to have your way and damn the consequences! Well, you damned someone else today, child. Several someones, in fact.”
“What are you talking about?” Abby almost stammered, losing a step in her argument.
“I'm tal
king about John Barnes dying because of your actions, Abigail,” Patricia told her flatly. “It is absolutely your fault that he's lying over there covered with a sheet, his friends mourning his loss.”
“What?” Abby's face showed her surprise. “But I…I thought you were going to take care of him! That he would be all right!”
“There are some things I can't fix, and apparently gunshots to the chest are on that list,” Patricia's voice turned cold now. “I just had a man die with my hands in his chest, trying to get to a bullet that wouldn't have been there if not for your stupid, immature, irresponsible actions, and you want to stand here and make demands on me? You want to defy me on the very steps of my own home and tell me how grown up you are? Words are cheap, Abigail. Very cheap. It's your actions that show your immaturity. Your childishness.” Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper then, forcing Abigail to have to strain to hear them;
“I'm ashamed of you.”
“Wha-, Mom?”
“I need to lie down for a bit,” Patricia ignored her daughter. “Samantha, come with me and let me have a look. You can do as you please,” she told Abby. “You will anyway.”
“Mom?” Abby was still shocked. “Mom! It's not like I'm the one who shot-, Mom!”
But 'Mom' wasn't listening as Patricia made her way to her bedroom, Samantha following meekly behind her. Patricia removed her coat and tossed it onto a chair.
“Roll up your pants leg and let me see,” she ordered. Samantha did so without comment. She winced as Patricia prodded and poked, hissing once in pain but shaking it off when Patricia apologized.
“It's a bruise, but a deep one,” Patricia stood. “What we used to call a bone bruise, it goes so deep. It will hurt for a while and likely get worse before it gets better. Watch and don't run into anything else with it. Expect some swelling, too. Take a bag from under the sink in my kitchen and fill it about half-way with water, then set it outside for a while. Once it's cold, you can wrap it in a towel and place it on your leg. That will help the swelling, and will help numb the pain a little bit for a while as well. Try and stay off of it as much as you can.”
