The bleeding woman’s husband lingers behind David with his arms crossed and says to him. “Are-are you a doctor?”
David says. “I’m not a doctor, but I’m your best shot.”
The old man says. “I don’t like this, get him away from my wife.” The man seizes David’s shoulders from behind and tries to tackle him to the ground. Queen pushes the old man to the floor on his second push.
Queen says. “Behave, you old fool, you shouldn’t have left, like I said.”
He says to her. “Kiss my ass.”
Queen says. “Real cute. Do you feel better?”
He says from the ground, pointing at himself. “You want to lecture me, while my wife’s dying.”
Queen says looking at the old man making a racket. “We have some chloroform.”
David’s voice is flat. “It’s doesn’t work in ten seconds like in those medical shows, more like half an hour.”
Queen says. “Fuck Doogie Howser.”
Standing back, the old man aims his gun at David, Delilah the closest person to him, runs into the gun. The barrel digs into her belly, she looks down, and he dry fires his pistol. Queen sticks her arm between them and yanks the gun from his hand. Afterwards, Delilah pushes the man into a door.
David keeps his eyes on the bleeding woman, unaware of the gun, he says to Queen. “I’m willing to help, but if you don’t want it, I can leave. I don’t want any trouble and I can’t make any promises.” He looks at Delilah mad-dogging the old man.
Queen says. “If you did, I wouldn’t trust you.”
David looks over at the old man. “Tell me what happened. Quick and clear.”
He’s trying to pull his hair out. “I can’t remember, it all happened so fast.”
David says. “Was she shot?”
The old man says. “No dumbass, why?” Sounds like he’s been dying to say this to someone other than himself.
David says. “Because during an attack, I’ve seen friends shoot each other in moments of fear and I’ve even seen dumber people try to remove the bullet, which is sterile unlike people’s dirty hands.”
The old man rubs his eyebrows and acts insulted. “So, I’m the dumbass.” He views the Queen. “A few of those things surrounded us and we fought our way free, same old story. Just save her, NOW. It’s not my fault.” In a calmer voice. “It’s not my fault.”
The woman is getting paler. Delilah says. “She’s losing a lot of blood.” Delilah’s fingertips are wrinkling. She combs the woman’s hair out of her glistening face, leaving streaks of red in the gray hair.
Someone brings the supplies and David says to the old man, “I’ll call you when it’s done. Nothing good can come from watching loved ones get cut up, on purpose or accidental, it makes no difference.”
The old man doesn’t move, so the Queen yells at him “Get out, I’m here.”
The old man slowly gets up holding his side then abruptly falls down to his stomach, the Queen runs up to him and checks on him by turning him over like a beach whale and as she lifts up his shirt by accident, she sees Duck-tape soaked in blood over his belly button, he’s been shot. He whispers to her. “Save her, I’ll be ok like the doc said.” Then he closes his eyes and his torso deflates. Queen says. “Shit. You dumb son of a bitch.” Then she pulls out her handgun and shoves it down to the back of his head. David turns his head at her when she screams and says. “DON’T, he might not turn.”
Queen hesitates, turns the old man to his back and drags him by both of his wrists to the nearest room with a door, leaving a blood trail.
After taking a mental inventory of the medical supplies, David says to the room of onlookers. “Does anyone have a condom?” A long silence filled with embarrassment and confusion.
The curtain man says what the room’s thinking. “Are you going to fuck her back to life?” He opens up his skull themed wallet. “My last one, here dude.”
“Thanks.” David uses it as a surgical glove.
Delilah says. “What’s with the wallet, dude?”
He says. “A memento mori.”
Meanwhile, David takes the woman’s shorts off to work on her upper thigh wound.
He says to Delilah, who looks like she has to gear up the courage. “Delilah.”
She startles, he continues. “Her femoral artery may be nicked. Apply pressure here.”
David goes through the woman’s black medical bag again. Then grabs the liquor bottle from Delilah and washes her wounds and the tools he needs to use, over the bowl. Ritual is strangely comforting to him for an instant. Queen’s listening intently standing on the sidelines with her hands in her pockets, chewing on half a toothpick.
David inspects the bite on her leg by pinching the skin around it; the unconscious woman screams in pain, gaze holding David. Here comes the wail of obscenities.
Delilah puts up her hair, getting blood on her neck. “Tell me what to do.”
David says. “I need light, he hands his flashlight to Delilah. “Hold it here.” David puts his fingertips in the tender flesh, feeling for the artery, to pinch it with the medical pliers.
Queen has returned and David quickly glances up at her. “Set up the needle and thread after you wash your hands.” David continues to inspect the woman’s thigh and puts pressure with both palms and full weight. “The bleeding is slowing down, the bite missed the artery, she was lucky. I just had to check before I closed her wound.”
Queen hands him the hook needle. “She’s far from lucky.”
David looks at all the women, it could have been three generations of women from the same family if all three were lucky. “Restrain her and keep her calm.” He pierces the skin with the needle and starts to sew up the wound.
Queen holds the woman’s legs down and Delilah holds the shoulders as the woman frantically looks around and shouts. “Where is he?”
David methodically sews up the wound and tunes everyone and everything out until his task is done; he has to wipe his left hand on Queen’s sleeve. He finishes in a few minutes. Examines her other wounds and thoroughly cleans them, no stitches, because they’re only superficial injuries. He eases back finally noticing the new group of people watching.
Queen gets up and walks over to a table with the bottle of liquor, Delilah smiles at David when he finishes. “Nice job.” He takes off the bloody condom/glove from his right hand.
He puts the medical tools in the bowl of alcohol, stands up and goes over to Queen drinking at a table. “She’s better.”
Queen says after a sip. “Give it to me straight, doc.“ She tosses him a towel.
David rubs his hands. “I stopped the bleeding for all her wounds, but she has lost too much blood and potential infection is always a problem. She’ll need a blood transfusion or…”
Queen says. “Your bedside manner is shit…I understand, you bought her some more time, that will have to be enough.”
David leans in close to be discreet. “If rigor mortis sets in…”
Suddenly, there is a loud sound on the door from the room with the forgotten old man. Delilah gets goosebumps down her spine and Queen begrudgingly puts her bottle down, saunters to the room, places the gun barrel to the door, and waits. “What’s your name?”
The old man haggardly coughs, then says. “Let me out, damn it.”
David straps on his belt of weapons and Delilah watches the door open, the old man limps to his wife, he gives everyone a defiant scowl to not help him. He holds his wife’s upper body in his arms, and cries when she comes to. “I’m sorry…I love you…You’re safe now, honey.” She takes dainty breaths. “Don’t leave.”
David gives him a moment then goes back to the woman to check her pulse with his watch; afterwards he ruminates for a minute on his knees, looking at his pack in the corner. He goes through it and hands some supplies to Queen as he walks up to her. He says. “Here’s some morphine and antibiotics, it’s enough for a cycle and for her to recover.”
Queen studies the supplies in
her hands, reading the labels. “You sure about this?”
He says. “She’ll live now.” David peers out the window. “Where’s the restroom?”
Queen points up stairs. “No one will mess with you, if they’re smart.”
Queen says to the couple on the ground. “I’m going to have to put both of you in a room, for everyone’s safety,” she says to the man, “and you Mister, let the good doctor treat your wound.”
The old man nods, keeping his nose in the air. “It’s nothing. A bee sting.”
David heads upstairs and as he’s washing his hands he hears the door swing open. He puts a hand on his gun on his belt. Delilah walks in headfirst. “There’s no water in the ladies room, big surprise.”
David looks at the bucket of water on the ground, and then stares in the mirror with both hands on the sink rim, both turning apple red underneath from the downward pressure. Skin color matches the bloody swirl in the square porcelain. “Thanks for helping me. I don’t know how my mom did that everyday.”
Delilah goes for the water. “I’m glad it’s over. My heart was beating too fast, I could barely breathe, but your calmness got me through it.”
She grabs his hand and puts it on her heart.
He moves to face her. “I didn’t think you were going to follow me here. It was a dumb idea to rush into this city.”
She says. “You said it, I didn’t.”
David has a small grin.
She hugs him. “I thought it was big of you to give them Phillip’s medical supplies.”
“He wouldn’t mind.” He leaves Delilah alone with her racing thoughts.
17
The Paramedic’s lagging behind in a craze limp-run, his face is losing color, he says to an impatient Ava, who has stopped to wait for him. “Keep low expectations for my limited abilities.”
Ava says without looking at him. “I have faith in you, you’re doing the right thing for your people. You want safety and justice, it takes hard work.”
He coughs into his half arm. “I just want to live another day.”
“Whatever floats your boat, Stumpy.” He momentarily looks lost.
He’s been pointing and listing street names like a walking Yellow Pages. She remembers the four streets to her bike by creating an acronym, DEAD: David, Eve, Ava, and Delilah. She can quite remember the streets, but she knows the first letters by assigning names. “Ava means Eve,” a guy hitting on her once told her, and now that useless nugget of information might save her life. I don’t even remember the guy’s name who told me that.
The Paramedic says. “We’re the good guys and they always have a clever way of winning. Right?”
Ava looks back at him.
“I know you said, movies tell lies and so people laugh at the truth. Lied to me now and tell me everything is going to be okay. I’m used to it.”
Ava says. “I don’t have all day.”
He says. “A hardass, you remind me of my third ex-wife.”
Ava walks away flat against the wall. Her go-to move in this city. “Third time’s the charm. Think about her and use that hate to prove her wrong.”
“Today’s the first day, I miss her, flaws and all. I sure know how to pick ‘em.”
Ava pulls him along by his half arm. “Don’t start crying on me.”
He winces and says. “Coming Dear.”
Ava and the Paramedic jog up the street, slowing down when the sun blinds her for a second; she then notices a shadow stumbling away from her around the corner. A viper ready to strike. Ava sneaks up to a looming zombie from behind, catches it off-guard, and assaults it in the back of the head with her kukri blade, its club feet go out from under him, she continues to strike it in the face on its way down. Screaming in her head. A puddle of blood leaves its skull.
Her red Converses absorb the blood. Ava switches her knife for her handgun, inspects across, and sprints around a corner, the man limps behind her; she bumps into the back of another walking zombie. It suddenly turns around and she reacts by pulling the trigger, her gun jams and the zombie grabs Ava’s throat. She swiftly pistol whips the zombie in the face, brain matter flings all over the pavement. Its dead heels skid backwards with each blow and she trips it into a broken storefront window. She hits it again for good measure; it’s as pointless as torturing a demon, but it feels good.
After, she turns around to help up the Paramedic. He looks behind her and pulls her down by the neck. “There’s another one walking around up ahead.”
“Where?”
The zombie is walking a few steps away from them, drops down to four limbs in a slow back-bending motion, sniffs at the ground, and hustles towards them.
Ava’s acutely aware enough for the two of them. “Go for that building, I’ll lead it away.”
“Thanks Ava.”
The Paramedic runs away as Ava whistles and runs; she springs up onto the back of a car trunk, and rolls off its hood. The human hound zombie follows her, in two leaps it’s hovering in the air over her as she hits the concrete; she grabs her kukri blade and gun. She first shoots, her bullets whizz within and out its chest, and while in the air the hound zombie unhinges its jaw, opening its mouth even wider as it soars over her. Still on the ground, Ava straightens and tightens her arm with the knife, and when both bodies collide, Ava’s arm and knife go through the monster’s mouth, its teeth scrape on her metal bracelets and the blade travels through the back of its head. The zombie’s engorged head with a sheared off nose, remains erect like a loose limb puppet with no strings, and its long black hair unravels around Ava’s sweaty forehead. Bitter blood leaks into her eyes as she looks the zombie in its gray pupils. Its body reflects in her diamond earrings.
The tempo of Ava’s breathing steadies then stops completely when some men start shooting at her, yards away, so instinctively she rolls on the ground with the zombie as a shield, she pulls it by the throat with her blade still lodged in the mush. She drags and yanks it backwards with one hand, it’s in a sitting position with its arms limply to the side, and with her other arm she reaches for a bumper. The hums of bullets are getting nearer; she stops dragging and uses the car for defense, then recovers her blade and runs away hunched over. Glass shatters over her head and bounces off her collar made of silver and gold.
Ava now has her back to a wall and glances to her right, she locks eyes with the Paramedic from his building as the group of bandits with their pets run down the street, imminently closing in on her. Ava’s preparing to run across the street to the Paramedic, but he waves towards her to leave him.
She hesitates and he screams. “In here, assholes, what took you so long?” Ava gives her crazy guide one last look, the location forever fixed in her mind, then runs away.
18
Dressed in beaver pelts and rubber boots, three bandits enter the structure to see the Paramedic swathing himself with a curtain, coughing and sitting by a hole in the wall. He says to them. “Leave and live or stay and die.”
The gang cracks up.
First man says. “I remember you.”
Second man says. “Talk is talk. Don’t die over it.”
Third man says. “Where are your friends, hand them over or be pulled to shreds.” All the men creep closer to him and the Paramedic puts his head down. One bandit says to the others. “There, you see that, I knew he would help us and himself in the end. People are all out of surprises these days.”
The Paramedic says with his eyes pointing up. “Some are above on the next floor.”
First man says. “How many?”
The Paramedic says. “Ten from my group and two Indians on the roof.” He looks at the window large enough for a man to jump through. “If I’m gooder than you, does that make you bad and me good?”
One of the men whistles and twirls his finger. “In here, round ‘em up. Here’s your answer.”
Three more bandits enter and the leader bandit walks closer to the Paramedic, reneging on his offer. “Sorry, you’re not Berserker mate
rial, but I will let you decide, a bullet or be eaten by this pet-person.”
The Paramedic says. “Bullet please.”
“Sorry I’m all out.” All the bandits laugh behind their zombie skin masks sowed over hard plastic. Their eyes are crude holes in the human masks.
“I’m this close to giving a shit. Keep talking cripple. How does it feel to be weak, normal?”
The Paramedic remains silent holding his side in the shadows.
The six bandits rile up the creatures like patrol men trying to find a prison escapee, pulling on the leashes then releasing all their zombie hounds at once. “Get.”
They swarm towards the now paler Paramedic like horny salmon swimming upstream. The Paramedic begins to laugh louder than the bandits, as he throws from under his blanket, two grenades without pins at the men. “Coming DEAR.”
The bandits are transfixed in the wooden floors and their eyes widen as they feel their blood run hot.
“Who’s the bitch now?” The zombie hound’s teeth get an inch from the Paramedic’s face and the grenades go off, instantly incinerating the entire floor, a cloud of chalk and dust flies out of all the windows, it’s a loud whooshing sound akin to air brakes on a city bus. The concussion of the detonation collapses the entire upper floor on top of everyone, a few arms reach out from the rubble.
Ava stops running when she hears the explosion. “Thanks Stumpy.”
19
A few hours later, David heads downstairs with a raging hangover headache.
Down the hall from where the doctor surgery took place. Queen’s speaking to a frail man; the bleeding woman and her husband are gone, and Queen says to this new man. “What if all my type of men I like are dead, does that make me gay? Truth through elimination or absurdity, take your pick. Sexuality is a block of wood you whittle away until you find yourself, going through life realizing your into that or into this, and at the end of the day you can be anything from a cross-dressing fairy to a horny Catholic nun. Stop me when I lie.”
Genesis Virus Page 31