My heart beats loudly in my ears as I lean to the side just enough to see what’s happening. To my shock, a police car parks right next us. Three men, all in police uniforms, get out wielding guns. For a brief second I’m afraid we’re committing some crime and they are here to arrest us, but then I remember the state of the world.
The cops look clean, like did-their-laundry-yesterday clean. No wrinkles, no blood stains, not a single speck of dirt on their uniforms. Their faces aren’t bony from famish, they sport trimmed beards and combed their hair recently. They walk with confidence and ease, wearing winter coats that fit perfectly, even the plump cop seems comfortable. One of them has a bright metal star on his chest—a sheriff. A handsome and young one too, the type cast as the lead in an action movie. In contrast, even Tigh had trouble maintaining his hygiene for the last few days. Every now and then, I caught him feeling his itchy jaw and growing beard with a frown. During the night, he probably fought the urge to use all our soap to wash away the grayness of his socks. These people are not desperate travelers or looters, like us.
“Are you sure, Hector?” The Sheriff turns to the plump one, adjusting his hat. “I don’t see anything.”
“I’m telling you. Something moved, Roger.”
“Let’s just see if there’s something useful inside the car.” The third one yawns loudly.
Tigh and I exchange worried looks. He places a finger over his mouth, as if I didn’t already know talking isn’t a good idea.
The Sheriff strides to the left side of the car, crouching next to the body of the famous scientist. “Poor man. Shot in the head.”
“That makes him luckier than all the others we found,” Hector says, and I hear a spit. “And us lucky too. Look at that! A shotgun.”
Hector opens the barrel to see if there’s ammo left. As he does this, the third and skinny cop walks to the other side of the car. We’re surrounded.
“Lots of food and medicine in here too. Finally we find something,” the skinny one says. “We should take the car back too. The tank is full.”
Tigh takes the briefcase out of my hands and gives me a handgun. I shake my head profusely, very much against the idea of going two against three. It might as well be one against three. Maybe they aren’t cops and instead stole the uniforms and the car, but cops or not, they seem far too capable for me to handle.
The Sergeant places a hand on my shoulder and mouths a “You can do this.” I have to pretend this surprising trust doesn’t come from desperation. We really need this car.
I nod. He signals me to target the skinny one. Tigh counts down to one with his free fingers. We get up.
“Hands in the air,” Tigh yells, while I aim my own gun at the cop on the right side. “Or we shoot.”
My hands shake, and even out in the cold, my skin is drenched in sweat. I’m happy the skinny cop obeys us and raises his hands. I glance at Tigh’s side, hoping he’s just as successful.
“Whoa there,” the Sheriff says, hands also raised. “We mean you no harm.”
“Then step away from the vehicle. Slowly,” Tigh continues.
“You’re in the Army. A Sergeant by the tags, right?” The man also insists, not moving an inch. “I’m a police officer. We’re both on the same side. We don’t have to point guns at each other.”
“I don’t care who you are, not until you step away. And leave the weapons on the ground.”
“Okay. Fair enough.” He nods to the other two, and they all take a few steps back, throwing the guns away. “I’m Roger Gilmore, Sheriff of Black Rock County. These are officers Hector Gutierrez and Billy O’Neil. They work with me.”
“And we should believe that, why?” I risk saying, perhaps hoping he can prove his good intentions and avoid a fight. “Show us proof.”
“All right, I can do that. I’m going to take out my wallet, if that’s okay with you?” He waits for Tigh’s permission to reach for his pants pocket. “Here. See for yourself.”
Tigh snatches the wallet away, opening it. “He’s telling the truth. But that doesn’t mean he’s on our side.”
“Like I said, we don’t want any trouble. We’re just doing a supply run, that’s it.”
“Then leave. The car stays with us.”
Roger eyes Tigh, a hand passing over his jaw. “Look, I know things out here are bad. Between the bad weather, looters and the roaming zombies, I understand you two aren’t in a hurry to trust us, but we can help you.”
“You can help us by leaving.”
“All right.” The Sheriff nods. “You win.”
The exact second he turns, the gun I was holding flies out of my hands. The third cop grabs me by the arm and immobilizes me. I hear a click of a handcuff as the cold metal scrapes my wrists, now on my back. He presses me against the car.
“Sorry, lady, we need this more than you,” he whispers into my ear, then screams at Tigh. “You there, drop your weapon or I shoot her!”
“Billy, what in the name—”
A gunshot explodes above me. I close my eyes as a loud thud finds my ears. I’m unharmed, but if he didn’t shoot me then—
“Hell! Billy! He shot Billy!”
I force myself to get up, almost losing balance. On the ground, Billy bleeds from a shoulder wound. He groans as blood pours out of it. I lift my face, absorbing the scene. My head hurts, and my vision blurs. Suddenly, I’m back at the base, watching Aaron shoot me while everything turns into chaos.
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m trembling. No. Not again. Please.
The Sheriff already has his gun aimed at Tigh. “Drop the weapon—”
“I ordered you to leave. Now do it or I shoot you both too.”
Only Billy’s groans interrupt the tension. I notice Hector’s attention goes back to Billy every second. They are worried about their friend, and probably won’t abandon him no matter how much Tigh threatens them.
I need to do something before it’s too late again.
“Listen…” I breathe in and out to calm myself. “I’m a doctor. Uncuff me and I’ll help your friend. Please.”
“Stay out of this, Doc.”
“Tigh… It was a misunderstanding. Right?”
The Sheriff nods, handsome face still marked by a frown. He doesn’t relax his arms, focused on aiming at Tigh. “Billy made a mistake. He acted alone. I’m sorry about that, but he needs help. I won’t leave him behind.”
“Like I said, I’m a doctor. If you take the handcuffs off me, I can help stop the bleeding.” Nobody moves. “Just… How about if everyone drops their weapons, okay? Even you, Tigh. It’s easy. Just drop them at the same time. Like, right now.”
Again, nobody listens to me. I close my eyes, feeling my chest tighten with pain. I can’t let this become another tragedy. Somehow, when I speak again, my voice is firm and loud.
“You, Hector, right? If you want your friend to live, come here. Now. And do what I say.” The plump cop blinks at me. “Now! Move it!”
Part of me is shocked when he obeys me.
“Uncuff me. Do it.” He does.
I feel my free wrists, then crouch next to Billy. “There are some towels in that blue bag inside the car. Take it and press them on Billy’s shoulder. Okay?”
He nods and enters the car. I unbutton Billy’s uniform with care, trying to see the damage. From the lack of blood below him, I wager the bullet is lodged in his shoulder, between the collarbone and the joint. No exit wound. This might impair his right arm movement. In this new world, not being able to aim is too dangerous. I close my eyes just for a second, trying to calm myself down. I’ll need to open him up and find the bullet as soon as possible, see if it damaged any nerves or tendons. I check his pulse and confirm he’s breathing well, that means no major artery has been compromised.
“I’m… S-sorry, lady,” he mutters between groans. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. I s-swear.”
“Well, you did hurt my pride,” I joke, while observing the skin around the bullet hole. “Bu
t I believe you, Billy. Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.”
Hector comes back and we press the towels against the wound. The other two finally lower their guns.
“What I can do to help?” The voice comes above me, so I lift my head to see the Sheriff looking at this friend with a frown. “Tell me, and I’ll do it.”
“I need… I have to take the bullet out. Do you have some place clean we can take him for surgery? Somewhere close?”
“Our town is an hour from here. We cleared the roads of the snow today. There’s a school nurse who can assist you.”
“Great. Then help me get him in the car.”
“I don’t want him bleeding on my leather seats,” Tigh’s voice comes from behind me. “He goes inside the Sheriff's car.”
I take his attempt at a joke as a sign he doesn’t plan to shoot these people anymore. For now, anyway.
“Tigh’s right. He did just clean the seats of brain matter after all.” I smile at the Sergeant, relieved he backed down. “Sorry.”
From the Sheriff’s frown, I don’t think he approves of our shared dark humor. “Okay. But you, Doctor, you travel with us.”
“No, she stays with me.” Tigh points to the injured man. “He attacked her first. We owe you idiots nothing.”
“She said she was going to help—”
I raise a free hand. “Stop. I’ll go with you. Tigh can take the other car with Hector. That way everyone gets a hostage, okay?”
After I wrap the wounded shoulder with towels and duct tape, we all work together to lift Billy and place him in the backseat of the police car. I go back to our own in order to pick up my bag of medical supplies. While I do this, I glance quickly at the briefcase, abandoned on the road, behind the car. Tigh walks up to me.
“You… That was risky, you know that?” He whispers to me, watching the cops with hawk eyes. “Still is. We don’t know where they will take us. This might be a trap.”
“He’s a Sheriff, Tigh. His uniform is squeaky clean. He’s even wearing cologne.”
“You trust him because he smells nice?” He rolls his eyes at me. “Really?”
For a brief second I think he’s jealous, but that would be crazy. “No. I don’t trust him at all. I just think he’s far too clean to be a bandit trying to make us fall into an elaborate trap. I think he’s actually living like a normal person, in a normal town. How else can you explain his appearance and attempts at a peaceful solution? He was ready to leave all this food behind.”
“Fine. Maybe so. But I just shot his friend. Do you really think is a good idea to go to a place with even more of his friends? We need to focus on getting to Akimi, not this.”
“I’m still a doctor. I can’t let someone die on my watch, not when I can do something. And not after….” I sigh, trying to hold off tears. “Not after everything that happened. Please let me fix this.”
He crosses his arm, lips pressed.
I step closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. “These people are cleaning the roads of snow, Tigh. They aren’t looters.”
He has no chance of arguing back, because Sheriff Roger appears behind him. “Ready to go, Doctor?”
“Yes. I am.” I turn to Tigh. “Don’t forget the briefcase, please.”
He nods and grabs the metal case from the floor, throwing it in the back with the other supplies. As I sit in the passenger's side of the police car, I turn my head back to watch Tigh get inside our car with Hector. Roger is the last one ready. As he turns the engine on, I hope this time I made the right decision.
“I’m sorry for all of this, Doctor. Billy’s just worried about the town.”
“I understand. I’m sorry my friend shot Billy. He was just trying to protect me.”
The Sheriff nods. “These are tough times. I get it. Is Billy going to be okay?”
“I think so. I’ll try my best.”
We leave the highway behind, entering a small road surrounded by trees. It feels weird to be next to a Sheriff wearing a shining star on his chest, like the world hadn’t fallen to pieces. Billy’s moans and short breaths remind me of reality quickly enough.
“Is your town safe? Nobody got infected there?”
The man stares at the front, answering my question with a sigh. “We’re safe. We had… We took some measures to be safe. People who were bitten, well…”
His hesitation tells me everything. “It’s okay. You did what you had to do. This disease is devastating. Containing infected people is dangerous. Back at my hospital, we tried. Didn’t work for long.”
He nods. “I guess we were right and there isn’t really a cure.”
I bite my lip, thinking of the briefcase we just found. “Sheriff…?”
“Call me Roger.”
“Roger, then… I think there’s hope. I think that maybe….”
“What?”
I shake my head. It’s too soon to reveal that information. I’m not even sure I can trust them yet. He looks like a Sheriff, acts like one, but that doesn’t mean he can deal with the truth. “As I doctor, I guess I can’t help but hope someone will find a cure.”
We pass a sign saying “Redwood. Population: 2,003.” After months of nothing but metal walls and freezing roads, I almost can’t believe I’m going to see a normal town.
I truly hope it’s a normal town, and not a village of cannibals.
Roger drives the car over a main street with a few small shops on both sides. We pass people walking by the sidewalk, carrying bags of groceries. Someone exits a pizzeria, and I can almost imagine the smell of melted cheese filling my nose. It almost feels like a dream.
The two cars stop in front of a high school. A group of people stand next to the main doors, shouting at each other.
“I’m going to see what’s going on,” the Sheriff says, signaling to Hector and Tigh to come closer. “You two carry Billy to Nurse Felicity, so she can help the Doctor.”
Both men grab Billy and we get inside the school. Hector guides us between corridors. As we pass classrooms, I spot a few with actual children studying inside. I have to blink twice to make sure I’m not dreaming it.
A woman, who I figure is Nurse Felicity, greets us with wide eyes, giving us space to place Billy on the bed. “What happened out there, Gutierrez?”
“They—”
I place myself between them before the officer tells the nurse about Tigh shooting their friend. Best not broadcast that to everyone. “Hello, I’m Doctor Paz. I’m going to need you to help me during the procedure, can you do this? We need to take the bullet out before it causes more damage.”
“Yeah… I guess,” the woman responds with a hand on her neck. “But I’m just the school’s nurse….”
“Good enough. I brought my own instruments, but I need you to sterilize the wound and keep an eye on his vitals, okay? And bring me a mask and a pair of gloves.”
She nods. As I wash my hands in a nearby sink, Tigh approaches me and whispers, “I’m going to look around to see if this town really is safe.”
The prospect of being separated from him worries me for only an instant, but one long enough for him to place a hand gently on my shoulder. “I won’t take long.”
I nod and he leaves. My eyes linger on the door, before I continue to wash my hands.
The surgery is a messy affair. I don’t have the proper clamps and Nurse Felicity has no Operating Room experience, but they have local anesthetic, which helps Billy with the pain. Still, he passes out after a while. His friend, Hector, stays by his side for everything, helping us by bringing instruments and fresh water.
In the middle of the procedure, the doors of the room open again, and I glance quickly to see a woman entering with the Sheriff, who carries a small girl and places her on the other available bed. He talks to the nurse, and the woman yells at them, but I’m too focused on my task to hear what they are saying.
After two hours I manage to find the bullet and take it out without any more complications. I finish things by c
losing the wound with care. My forehead drips with sweat, my knees almost buckle from standing for so long, but I can’t help but feel relieved. He’s going to live.
I tell Hector the good news, and the man shoulders finally relax. He gives a smile. “Thank you, Doc.”
“You should rest. He’s not going to wake up anytime soon.”
The officer nods, passing a hand over his nose. His eyes are red as well. After looking at his friend one more time and squeezing the man’s hand, Hector leaves.
I turn to the nurse. “You have antibiotics, right?” She nods. “Good, give him one every four hours, also when he wakes make sure he drinks lots of fluids, and watch him. If his fever still hasn’t dropped, you might need to open the wound again and check for any shrapnel left.”
“Me?” Felicity asks. “Are you leaving?”
“Maybe. I don’t know yet.” I take off the soaked red plastic gloves and toss them in the nearest trashcan. “Now, I’m going to see my next patient.”
Felicity tells me about the little girl, the one unconscious on the bed next to Billy. Apparently she didn’t live in Redwood, and they just found her trying to steal medicine from a house. She tells me she has a fever, vomited twice, and they were thinking she ate something bad while living alone in the woods.
Gently, to make sure she doesn’t wake up, I check her arms and legs for bites. I take her dirty boots and coat off. There are no usual signs of the infection, only minor injuries, including glass fragments in her shoulder.
Nurse Felicity helps me take them out and clean the wounds. While I check her pulse, I notice her left hand is cuffed to the bed rails. I recoil instantly, as if shocked. My heart skips a beat as the image of little Victoria flashes in front of my eyes. It’s hard to breathe after that.
“What is it, Doctor?”
Blinking, I try to wash away the thoughts of that day. This very much alive girl needs me. I can’t have a panic attack. My right hand trembles, and I use the other to stop it. After breathing in and out, I manage to calm down enough to answer the nurse.
“Nothing. She’s dehydrated and probably suffering from abdominal cramps. Do you have Tylenol or similar in here? We should ease her pain, so when she wakes up she doesn’t hurt herself.”
Those Who Remain (Book 2) Page 14
