Simon sat his whisky down a little too hard and gave Stinky a mirthful look. “You know he’s gonna kick your ass when he comes to, right?” Simon chuckled and shook his head. “I’m going to enjoy the show.”
“If he does, he does.” Stinky pulled at the man’s shoulder and rolled him to his side. He washed the exit wound clean and reached for the metal rod from Shooter. “If he lives, that’s all the thanks I’ll need.” He shoved the tip into the larger exit wound and braced himself to be knocked to the floor again.
Sinner lay dormant as Stinky seared the wound; the sweet, sickly smell of burning human flesh rose into the air. He poured another quick wash of vodka over the wound then had Shooter pay out a towel. Stinky laid Sinner back down gently and fell back with a heavy sigh. “I think that’s about all we can do for now.”
Shooter dropped the propane torch, let the rebar roll off the table. “Should we bandage the wounds? Maybe make him a sling?”
Stinky shrugged. “I think it’s better to let the wound breathe. I think it will heal faster. At least until he’s up and mobile again.”
“You mean if he’s up and mobile again.”
Stinky nodded solemnly. “Right. If.” He exhaled hard and stared at his blood covered hands shaking. He reached out slowly and took the vodka bottle. He poured a small amount into his hands then scrubbed them together, doing his best to remove the lion’s share of blood from them.
Stinky offered the bottle to Shooter who did the same. “You think he’ll make it?”
Stinky shrugged. “He lost a lot of blood.”
Shooter glanced at Simon who appeared passed out on the couch. “So how’d you know to do that? You a medic in the army or something?”
Stinky shook his head. “I was going to be an EMT. You know, the assholes that get to ride in ambulances and run red lights and shit.” He gave him a sad smile. “Two weeks left to graduation and I’m busted on a piss test.”
“No shit?”
Stinky shrugged. “My ex-old lady wanted to get high after I’d aced a test.” He sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the wall. “I knew I shouldn’t, but I also knew that if I didn’t get lit with her, I wouldn’t get no pussy.” He gave him a broad smile.
Shooter chuckled. “Was it worth it?”
“The pussy?” Stinky shook his head. “It’s all the same. But that was some good weed.” He laughed and Shooter laughed with him.
“I do regret not finishing school, though.” He shrugged again. “Who knows. Maybe I could have been a good EMT.”
Shooter nodded. “I think you woulda.” He nodded to Sinner. “I bet he thinks so, too.”
Stinky leaned forward and tried to see over the table. Simon appeared passed out. “I truly hope he makes it. For both our sakes.”
Shooter glanced at Simon and knew exactly what he meant.
Chapter 3
Hatcher groaned as he rolled off of the couch in his office. He pushed himself up and into a sitting position. “I’m too old for this crap.”
“You and me both.” Vicky sat across from him, hot coffee in her hand.
Hatcher rubbed at his eyes and blinked at her. “When did you come in?”
She shrugged. “Just a moment ago.” She handed him a cup of coffee and leaned back in his chair. “The people out there are still pretty shaken up by what happened last night.”
Hatcher accepted the cup and took a sip. He nodded at her comment. “I’m sure they are, but how often can somebody say they fended off a couple hundred of the Zulus and nobody was hurt or lost?”
Vicky raised a brow. “Honestly, I don’t know.” She set her coffee down and gave him a lopsided smile. “I’m not even sure if there are other survivors out there.”
Hatcher grunted. “There has to be.” He took a drink from the coffee and regretted it as his tongue scalded. He set the coffee down and forced his eyes open wider. “You can’t convince me that we’re all that’s left.”
She shrugged. “It’s possible.”
“There are more Jasons and Brendas out there. I can feel it.” He reached for his boots and began lacing them. “There’s no way that we’re it.”
“I checked on Mike this morning. I’m not sure that we should move him.”
Hatcher gave her a questioning look. “Who’s Mike?”
“The biker that was sliced through the guts? Savage.”
“Ah.” Hatcher nodded as he continued tying his boots. “I’m sure if we take it easy with him, he’ll be just fine. He’s a big boy.”
“Precisely why I don’t think we should move him. His size means more mass. More mass means more flesh moving when he’s jostled.” She picked up her coffee again and shook her head. “I think he should remain here a while longer.”
Hatcher blew his breath out hard and shook his head. “We’re going. All of us.”
Vicky gave him a confused look. “Why? Seriously, what’s the rush?”
“For one thing, we can’t know how much water is left.”
She shrugged. “So we use bottled water. It’s not long term.”
“Second, there’s no way we could defend two places at one time.” He pointed out the office window. “If you haven’t noticed, there’s a madman out there who wants to kill us all.”
“I don’t need a lot of security. Leave me Hank and Wally.”
Hatcher shook his head. “Absolutely not.” He looked up at her and grinned. “They have a moat to install.”
Vicky snorted and came to her feet. “I heard about that. You’re not really going to let them dig a moat, are you?”
Hatcher shrugged. “Once everything else is done, I don’t see why not.”
Vicky groaned and reached for her coffee. “I’ve given you my expert medical opinion. It’s too soon for Mike to be moved. If we do and anything happens to him, it’s on you.”
Hatcher opened his mouth to argue then quickly shut it. If there was one thing
