by Riva, Aline
“Turn the page... I need the diagram!”
She obeyed, he looked down for a moment then turned his attention back to Christian.
“Thank goodness you packed an anatomy book! I've been reading up on how much I can get away with cutting out... I don't think you will lose any muscle, it's not a huge bite... Is it numb yet?”
“I think so,” Christian's voice trembled as he gave his reply.
“Okay, I'm going to cut out the bite,” Greg said, meeting his gaze intently, “Emma's going to hold you down. You will feel some pain as the blade goes deeper. I'll have to sew you up afterwards. I don't doubt that will hurt too. I'm fully expecting you to be passed out by that point.”
“No... don't do this...” Christian begged, but then as Emma held him down, Greg placed the knife carefully at a one inch distance from the affected tissue and started to dig deep. Buy the time he was carving into the wound, Christian was screaming and moments later, had passed out cold.
Long after Greg had washed his hands in an alcohol solution, he had finally found the surgical gloves, but by then they were not needed – the bite was extracted and the raw wound stitched tightly closed. Greg left Emma to dress Christian's wound, then after cleaning up, he had gone back to his seat, reclined it and closed his eyes. Moments later Zodiac had sat next to him and patted his arm.
“Daddy, is Christian okay?”
Greg gave a sigh.
“Yes I think so, son.”
“Was it messy?”
“Very.”
“Are you a doctor now?”
His eyes were still closed as he smiled.
“Maybe... now let me go to sleep, Zodiac, it's been a long night...”
In the morning, Christian woke up to the soft voice of Vicki as she handed him a flask.
“The other doctor says drink this for the pain and thank him later...”
The bus was moving. He glanced to the window. They were heading down a long, straight road that overlooked the sea and the road stretched on for miles.
“What's in it?”
“Whisky,” Vicky replied.
Christian sat up. He leaned on the seat in front and managed to stand, then called down the bus:
“Oi Greg, what do you think you're doing? I've just had a bite cut out and you're giving me scotch for the pain? This isn't the wild west, you know!”
Greg looked around at him and flashed a smile.
“We have to save the pain relief. Do it the old fashioned way, you look like you could use a drink!”
“Thanks a lot,” he replied reluctantly, giving a weary sigh as he sat back down.
The first mouthful of scotch went down like liquid fire but it hit the spot, numbing out the pain. By the time the end of the road was in sight, Christian felt slightly drunk and couldn't help smiling as he guessed that if Greg went on to treat all his patients like this, maybe he was like something out of the wild west, especially with his guns and that long coat he wore. Also, the name Doc Fitzroy kind of suited him...
“We can go no further by road – not in a vehicle,” Alex said as they turned off the main highway and a long, new stretch of winding road lay ahead. Here the ground was uneven and rose upwards but lush green grass stood on either side.
“Now we walk, and I shall lead you!” Alex declared, and as Parsons shut off the engine, he activated the doors and they slid back and Alex was first off the bus, his weapon in hand as he scanned the lonely landscape.
The others soon joined him, Marc had taken up his weapon and Christian clutched at the booze and his arm as his shoulder throbbed and he left the bus last. Vicki and Emma were standing side by side, Greg was up front with Parsons, then he instructed his son to stay close at all times as he drew a hand gun and checked his weapon.
“It looks clear,” Greg remarked.
“Maybe not...” Parsons glanced to Alex, whose eyes had lit up with crazy excitement.
“Follow me!” he announced, and began to walk on ahead with a spring in his step.
The others followed behind. As the winding road took an uphill turn, Alex waited at the top, smiling like Christmas had come early.
“Such wondrous sights to see!” he declared joyfully.
As the others made their way up to join him, they looked left and right and realised this was – formerly – a large industrial park. Left and right buildings spanned a great distance, past those units were closed shops, a big shopping mall, a supermarket, a burger joint... beyond that, far off down the road, was large gate and it was locked. Beyond the gate sat rooftops of houses and further still, a colourful fairground sprawled across one side of the landscape, there was nothing beyond that but a low sea wall and the glitter of sun on sea.
“Welcome to Circus!” Alex declared as he threw his arms wide and a joyful smile lit up his face.
But the others were not joyful, they were looking on in horror.
His smile faded.
“What's wrong?” he asked in genuine confusion.
“What the hell is that?” Marc said, looking to the barrier that cut off the gateway from the town:
It was three rows wide, large metal shards with spikes pointing outward, some had corpses impaled, a few had rotted, others were suspended on the blades as undead limbs struggled in vain and the creatures remained on the spikes.
“What is this place?” Parsons whispered, now looking past the spikes to a gateway where zombie heads were impaled on the top of the barrier like décor as they still squirmed as mouths opened and closed.
“This is home! And I shall negotiate a safe way in,” Alex replied, and then he walked on ahead, taking a path that led off from the main road and towards the industrial estate as the others followed, feeling sick with apprehension as every step took them closer to Circus, a town that looked nothing like a place of wonder – if the gates were any indication of what lie beyond, it was more like hell on earth and they were about to enter - but it seemed as if this new hell was the only choice they had left because nowhere else was safe - Circus was their only hope now...
End
