The doctor shined his light into Danny's eyes and then turned it off.
'Open your mouth for me, Danny.'
Danny looked at his father for reassurance and Jim nodded, wincing as the stitches in his head pulled tight against his scalp. His shoulder had been re-stitched as well, and the pus-covered homemade sutures lay discarded in a plastic trashcan with a biohazard sticker.
'You must be feeling better now, Mr. Thurmond,' Quinn said. He leaned against the back of the closed door. Except for the poster on the wall beside him- Have you received your FLU SHOT yet? Remember: Ramsey Inc.
Employees Receive Them For Free-and the window, the examination room was featureless and sterile. After weeks of living with rot and decay, Jim found the change strangely disquieting.
'Not really. I still feel hot, and I'm weak as a kitten.'
'That's the infection,' Dr. Stern told him, staring down Danny's throat.
'You've got a low-grade fever. It's really a wonder that it's not more serious. Luckily, you've got a strong constitution, Mr. 'Thurmond. I've seen people come in with half the damage you seem to have taken and be in far worse condition. What did you do before this?'
'I was a construction worker down in West Virginia. Built new homes, mostly.'
Stern pressed his fingers against Danny's throat, and then shined the light in the boy's ears.
'West Virginia, eh? I knew you must be from the South, by your accent. You're a long way from home.'
'While you were passed out in the chopper, Danny said you came looking for him,' Quinn said. 'That true?'
'Yeah. But I didn't do it alone. I had some help. We traveled up through Virginia and Pennsylvania and into Jersey.'
The pilot whistled. 'That's pretty impressive. You're all lucky to be alive. Can't believe you made it.'
'Not all of us did.'
Jim nodded, his thoughts on Martin. He still couldn't believe that the old preacher was gone. He felt in his pocket for Martin's bible, reassuring himself that it was still there.
They were quiet while Stern checked Danny over. Then the doctor turned back to Jim.
'Do either of you have any medical conditions I need to know about?'
'Like what?'
'Epilepsy? Diabetes? Things like that? Allergies, perhaps?'
Jim thought the question was strange, but answered truthfully. 'No. Danny's allergic to bee stings, but that's about it.'
'How about drug allergies? Penicillin?'
'None that I know of.'
Stern wrote the information down and placed it in a folder with Jim and Danny's names handwritten on them. Then he handed it to the nurse.
'Kelli, could you file these for me, and then check on Dr. Maynard?'
'Sure thing, Dr. Stern.'
'What's that?' Jim asked.
'Your medical records,' the doctor answered. 'If you're going to be members of our little community, then I'll be your doctor.'
'Oh.' It seemed strange to Jim. Things like regular doctors visits and paying the bills and driving to the grocery store and watching football on Sunday seemed like dreams-a distant past. Life had become nothing but running from hiding place to hiding place, surrounded by the dead; a constant battle simply to stay alive. He struggled with the adjustment.
Kelli walked out of the room, files tucked under her arm. Quinn turned and watched her ass, smiling to himself.
Dr. Stern stepped back. 'Well, Danny, you seem to be in fine shape, if a little dehydrated.'
'What's that mean?' Danny asked.
'It means you need some water. And I bet you're hungry too.'
The boy nodded.
'Well,' the doctor reached into a drawer and pulled out a lollipop, 'you can start with this, I suppose. In a few minutes, we'll show you gentlemen to your room. If your father is feeling up to it, we'll show him where the cafeteria is. Then you can get some real food. I bet you like pancakes, don't you?'
Danny's eyes lit up. 'Yeah!'
'Then you'll like what we're having for breakfast. But I don't want you to eat too many of them, okay? You need to start out slow.'
Smiling, he handed Danny the lollipop and then turned to Jim.
'Is he going to be okay?' Jim asked.
'He'll be fine.' The doctor lowered his voice. 'I don't think we need to run an IV, but we do need to get some fluids into him. And some food.
But all in all, he'll be okay. There's no sign of reactive psychogenic shock.'
