by Caldon Mull
“Is that his... Is that...?” Dean muttered in a strangled voice.
“No, No...” Doctor Mason clucked “It’s just his skull. Thankfully, it seems very thick, and... oh, mercy... its intact.”
“He’s gonna be all right?” Bobby grunted, arms locked around my waist.
“Concussion, massive blood loss... and whatever psychotic break he’s having now aside... I’m not sure. He’s very weak...”
“You’re joking right?” Michel grunted, hanging on to my left arm, sneakers skidding over the floor, squealing against the wood.
“No, I’m not.” Doctor Mason continued, sounding absorbed in whatever he was doing. “Because he’s usually so reserved, I don’t think you realize how strong he really is.”
“I’m getting a fuckin’ good idea.” Bobby grunted. “Doc? Why you peeling that back?” Dean yelped.
“I’m turning it aside so the hair doesn’t grow into the wound and cause infections. I’ll stitch it more carefully as soon as I can staunch the bleeding from the back of his neck... Hmmph! You’re going to have to hold him harder...”
“Doc, we can’t.” Michel groaned, straining. “I’m almost done in... Can’t you... sedate him some more, I’m losin’ here...”
“It’s dangerous, very... but I see your point... There, there, that’s as much as I dare...”
I struggled loose, finally. Snarling, I locked my hands around the throat of one of my tormentors... and then the blackness kicked in and I...
I saw the lights first, they hurt my eyes. I closed them. My mouth felt like vomit covered sandpaper. I groaned.
“Hey there.” A voice, Dean. “You... Ah... back again.”
“Where am I?” I croaked.
“Water?” He pressed a glass to my lips. “Drink, Doc said you’d need, like a lot.”
“Thanks.” I whispered after emptying the glass. I blinked again and the room focused.
“We’re in the shelter. Why?”
“How much you remember?” Dean’s face bobbed into view, grinning with relief. He folded his arms on my chest and rested his head on them, staring at me.
“Ah, home. Living room. Um... blood, not Bobby. Confused after that. Not much really... y’know, …solid.”
“I can fill in the gaps, you want.” he sighed.
“Yeah, please.” I tried to sit up, couldn’t. “I can’t move, buddy?” My voice scaled a notch, panic fluttered briefly.
“Shhh.” Dean shushed me. “We tied you up.”
“Why?” I cowered inwardly, I did know why.
“‘Cause you were going to rip us inta shreds even tho’ you had more juice in you to knock a bear out. Ah, what’s with that, Andy? I... we thought we knew you well. What set you off? Why?” Dean frowned, as if seeing someone he didn’t know.
“Those marks on your throat. Me?” I groaned.
“Ah, yup.” Dean rubbed his face against his forearms, looked at me again.
“Any... anyone else?” I choked, sobbed out.
“Yeah. Michel, Bobby too.” Dean nodded, the livid finger marks on his throat blazed at me, accusingly.
“Wait, Andy, there’s more... it was the weirdest thing.”
“...more...” I whispered, heart quailing.
“See, you spun around and gripped my throat an’ lifted me off the ground, your eyes were wild, crazy-man stuff, I think I peed myself then an’ there...”
“...ah...” I moaned in misery, hot tears of shame burnt my eyes, ran down my cheek.
“...no wait!” Dean shushed, pressing a forefinger to my lips “Let me finish. Then you raised your arm to smash my face, you stopped dead. Froze. You saw it was me, and you stopped, didn’t touch me. When Michel grabbed your arm, you scooped me behind you and blocked him. When you saw it was him, you did the same, pushed him behind you and grappled Bobby. You stared at him, then dropped your arms and sagged, like all the wind just rushed out of you.”
“I didn’t...” I sniffed, relieved. “None of you...”
“Nah, not a one. Interesting bruises, though. You really do hold back every day, don’t you?” Dean smiled quietly. “With everyone. All the time.”
“...I... Yeah, I guess.” I sighed, eyes sagging.
“Andy, who... who were you protecting? What happened to you?” Dean’s voice faded further and further towards the greyness that was rocking me to rest.
“...Caifus... He wouldn’t a’ tol’ you yet... it’s Caifus...” I dozed off again.
“C’mon, you can’t sleep all the time.” Michel shook me.
“Ummm, just a little longer mom, the bus is always late...” I mumbled before starting awake. “Hi.” I mumbled shyly.
“Hi yourself.” Michel smiled, “Get up, piss that thing away and let’s get you moving.” He pointed to the tent in the blanket.
“Yeah.” I did as he ordered, meekly. As the foam from my pee frothed in the steel bowl, I asked him “Where the girls?”
“Doc moved them yesterday.” Michel watched me from the counter, arms folded. A dark bruise mottled his left arm.
“Oh God.” I caught a glimpse of my bandaged head. “How big is this thing?”
“I’m sure he put in eighty stitches, all told.” Michel watched me carefully. “How you feeling, really?”
“Not myself, honestly.” I did a quick internal check “Feels like I’ve been mauled, all my muscles ache, thirsty, hungry. Head throbs. Nauseous. Somehow, strangely... I feel like I’m, a lot lighter.”
“You need to talk to us.” Michel shook his head slowly “I mean, really talk.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, unable to meet his eyes “I guess.”
“Oof!” I gasped as Michel slammed into me and hugged me tightly “What’s with you?”
“I’m just so grateful you all right.” Michel moaned, holding me close. I held him back, caressing his back while he held on. “You gave me such a fuckin’ scare... I thought... I thought...”
“I think I know what you thought.” I smiled into his hair. It smelled like damp. “I’m fine, I’ll explain soon, I promise.”
“Yeah.” Michel pulled back, eyes misty “Let me bring you upstairs, I’ll feed your ass and bring you up to speed. Dekker ‘bin squawkin’ at me almost constantly trying to find out how you were.”
“Is it bad?” I suddenly remembered the rains, the floods. “How long I bin out?”
“Three days.” Michel grabbed my arm and I leant on it as I wobbled towards the hatch.
“Three? Yeesh.” I laughed suddenly “All from a little bump to my nut?”
“Fuckin’ martyr. Why don’tcha milk the sympathy.” Michel play-grumped “Always about you, ain’t it?”
We climbed the steps towards the kitchen. The sky was grey, but thin and grey, low cloud, clearing clouds. I stood on the top of the balcony and turned towards the town, legs trembling with fatigue.
“Holy Mary....” I gasped as I looked down into the valley, shocked. “How... much...”
“Thirty-eight feet.” Michel sighed and joined me, leaning with forearms on the balustrade. “That roaring sound isn’t just inside my head, is it?” I gaped at what used to be the bottom fence of my property, a swirling muddy mass of angry water.
“Ah, nope.” Michel shrugged, face lined “You were right all along. Didn’t lose nobody in town. They were all out when the wave hit.”
“Wave?” I shook my head slowly, uncomprehending.
“We had a tidal wave move down the valleys, everythin’ below Local Town off the river is matchsticks. Twenty foot river bore.”
“Jesus wept.” I gasped.
“Come on, coffee’s brewing.” Michel gently took my arm, leading me, coaxing.
I staggered into the kitchen and saw Dean and Bobby look up, smile shyly.
“Hey.” Dean greeted.
“Hi.” Bobby looked haunted, smiled wanly when I tottered over to the percolator.
“Andy’s coffee problem? Heh! Two hands, one mouth. Coffee, no problem.” Michel grinned as I t
urned to scowl at him.
“So, what’s up?” I took a deep breath and faced them all. Coffee cup clenched defensively. “I... I just wanna say...” Dean licked his lips, sighed “That you... you... Man, you’re the bravest fucker I know!”
“Hear, hear!” Bobby grinned, suddenly “Man, you got balls!”
“Amen!” Michel cheered “You a fuckin’ hero, man!”
They hooted and cheered and banged my table and generally carried on like... like I deserved it.
I held up my hand, and waited for them to fall quiet. I was deeply moved “I... don’t feel like a hero.” I sipped at my cup, couldn’t look them in the face, but tried to finish, talking through the lump in my throat “I nearly... hurt... all of you, the ones in my life that I most... care about.”
“Wait... Andy...” Bobby tried to interrupt.
“No, no.” I begged, “Please just let me finish. I don’t deny I might have saved people, an’ I’m glad I did it... I’d do it ‘gain. I... But, it means nuthin’ to me, if I’d even lifted a hand to any of you. I ‘bin walkin’ around with a lot of shit the last few years, an’ I guess I gotta let it all go. Slowly, not all at once... like last night.”
“Thursday night. It’s Monday.” Dean sat back and folded his arms over his chest, frowning. “I also got a lot of baggage, stuff I couldn’t tell no-one. I kept lookin’ for someone I could open up to, without just dumping on them. I wanted to share my troubles, not unload them.”
“We figured.” Bobby shrugged “Like, we all got to ‘fess up.”
“Yeah.” Michel shrugged, pulled out a chair and placed me slowly into it, I sat with some relief. My trembling legs were an indication of how weak I was. I snorted at my pins in disgust.
“I guess we all gotta do it together.” Dean rubbed his face “At least I know you boys are here to help me, Huh?”
“Same goes for me, Barker.” Michel nodded slowly. “Hoskins? You with us?”
“Yeah, I am. I need someone... I need to talk some. I’m good to listen as well. Fuck, who’m I kidding, I’m desperate. Please, someone... I don’t care what you think of me afterwards... I gotta talk my head clear.”
I sighed, chin on chest. “I need to trust someone with my own feelings, sooner or later. I guess I’m going to need some help.”
“I heard a rumor that most of the dudes here are... have been... are tight with each other.” Dean grinned openly. “I guess that’s a good place to start. I guess we can get in-timate without feeling too bad, what you say? It’s like the-morning-after jitters. ‘Cept, I ain’t gonna be chewing my arm off to leave, I gonna spoon into this one.”
“Intimate? Wash your mouth out with soap, kid.” I grinned and looked up at their worried faces. “All this touchy-feely stuff is making me want to puke. But, yeah... It’s a deal. I’ll start talking an’ I’ll start listening, and maybe we can get our crap into the open. Maybe when the waters go away... maybe it is a time for a fresh start. Maybe... ” I frowned to myself, then looked up at the relief slowly spreading over my friends faces.
“You sure you’re not trying to sucker me into this?” I glared at them.
“No, I really need this.” Bobby swallowed thickly, continued “I been so close sometimes, but I always held back when it came time to trust someone else... with... well, with me. I gotta make a stand, I don’t care if you think I’m scum afterwards, I... gotta try. If you hadn’t a come and fetched me the other night, I’da walked into the water myself… Andy, you saved my life twice.”
Michel shrugged and wiped his face with his hands. “I guess I really got small potatoes when it comes to stuff that’s bothering me, but I’ll bite. I really like you all already, and I’m pretty sure I love some of you too. I guess I was always pressing Andy to tell me more things about him, and when he finally does, I fall to pieces. And after all that, he still respected me... I’m grateful as hell. Time for me to walk the talk, you feel better ‘bout that, Andy? It looks like we all in.”
“Nah, I still want to puke.” I shrugged “I mean really, not from what any of you said. I’m glad about that. I guess I’m just hungry as hell.” A wave of nausea washed over me again. I dry- heaved, then snapped at them to cover my weakness. “You bitches gonna sit around and watch me starve, or am I gonna get me some lunch?” I grinned suddenly... they’d seen right through me. They grinned at each other and started bustling around getting a meal ready.
I watched them, each moving in their own special way, orbiting each other. We were already used to the way each other moved and smelled and felt to the touch. Here we were planning to get used to the way we thought, and hurt and suffered.
Somewhere in the darkness around my heart, a little door opened and some light shone through. I felt scared, and relieved at the same time. Piece by piece, my soul could be hauled out into the open and the garbage thrown away.
“I’m really scared. This is a big step.” I muttered “How about you?”
“Yeah. Scared.” Dean muttered, putting down plates and cutlery “Better believe it.”
“Relieved.” Bobby brought bread and juice to the table. “I feel my insides are like rotted wood. Anyways from here has gotta be up. Is that selfish of me?”
“Scared.” Michel brought a plate out of the warmer drawer, placed it on the table. “Like what I’m frettin’ about is kiddy-stuff and I let you all down, ‘cause maybe I ain’t got nuthin’ to help you with. Still, I listen good an’ I ain’t gonna say nuthin’ to no-one, no-how.”
“I guess we gonna find out.” I dragged my chair to the table “I promise I’ll never hurt you guys, no matter what.”
“We already know that.” Bobby reached for the poached eggs, not looking in my eyes “It was kinda creepy when you on auto-pilot. But even then you didn’t.”
“Yeah. Guess when I dig around I’ll find out. If you can trust me on that, I’m mostly there.” I forced some crispy bacon into me, waited for the nausea to quell, swallowed. “Still, there is something good out of this.”
“What’s that?” Dean shrugged. “I can’t think of anything good about this, how’d you figure?”
“Well, my place is now the best riverside property around. Tripled in value, I reckon.”
“Andy!” Michel squawked, dumb-founded “How can you think of somethin’ so wicked, at a time like this?”
“He’s actually shocked...” Bobby snickered, digging into his bacon. The haunted look in his face vanished a little as he grinned down at his plate.
“Wicked...?” Dean grinned, pouring himself some OJ. “Reckon that bump changed ol’ Andy somethin’ right opposite his normal dis-po-sition. Ain’t never known him to be wikkid ‘afore.”
Michel grinned ruefully as our laughter pealed out over the table.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hmmm.” Doctor Mason muttered behind the bright light shining in my eyes. “It’s not healing quite p- properly. I’m not sure if it’s because of the hair roots in the skin itself, or because of any infection. I can trim the edges of the wound, but that would increase your chances of a scar.”
“And if I leave it?” I shrugged, there didn’t seem to be much chance of this scalp wound business actually being over.
“Well, it may require skin grafts and reconstructive surgery, if it is eventually too infected to ever heal.”
“I’d prefer you to worry about infection, rather than my appearance.” I sniffed. The three weeks with this weeping gash I’d spent were enough.
“All the same, let me worry about your health. That’s what you p-pay me for. You... well, you can worry about my computer.”
“I don’t have to, it’s done. I’ll bring it through as soon as you’ve finished fussing.” I shrugged, moving my hand up to ruffle the fuzz over the rest of my head.
“Stop that!” Doctor Mason slapped my hand away “I see you’re still losing weight. You’ll have to watch that, too. If your body’s fat ratio decreases any further, you will run into danger of not healing at all. You’re
about six percent BMI, make sure you stay above it, fifteen is better.”
“Don’t remind me of that as well.” I growled “Twenty pounds might not sound like a lot to you, but...”
“I’m not sure I even weight twenty p-pounds, Andronicus” Doctor Mason’s voice sounded annoyed with the chit-chat. He clambered up on the hospital bench and knelt, placing jars of something next to him. Each time he moved, the stainless steel mirror on the wall distorted something of his, or the other. “I’ll p-put this on, and see if it will draw anything out of the stitched flesh. Oh, it’ll sting a bit. It’s very strong.”
“Oh, okay.” I sat still while he smeared what looked like black tar on my scalp. It did feel... warm.
“I’ll give you a bromide p-powder to rub on it for an hour or two before you have to re-apply it. Careful through, this p-poultice will eat away any dead cells on the lips of the wound, and maybe some hair roots. Get Michel to shave around the wound again before you next re-apply it. Wash it off tonight, dry thoroughly and apply the p-powder. Sleep with it on, you’ll have to wear a bandage to stop it from leaking onto your p- pillow.”
“Hmm, how’s the hospital coming along?” I shrugged, watched the sinews in my chest ripple under the skin on my pectorals. Secretly, I thought the weight loss had improved my build, all rawhide and rippling muscle. Everyone else had other ideas, naturally.
“The top floors are done, so is the ground floor. The basement is still a mess.” The Doctor mumbled absently while he applied the goo with a wooden stick. I kept my head still while he was doing that, I had learned this much from the last six visits. Even for a small man, he was a crack shot with a spatula. “We’re not as quick as The Compound to clear up, but then we don’t have the resources you do.”
“Well, I have my first scheduled meeting next week. It looks like they back to business as usual, soon enough.” I winced as some of the black goo dropped on the skin of my forehead. It stung like blazes. “What is that stuff?”