Final Dawn: Book 12: Where Could He Be?

by Darrell Maloney

  “You lost me at silver nitrate.”

  “It’s a chemical cauterization method. It makes veins shrivel up and die so they won’t bleed.”

  “Okay. I’m all for that.”

  “The problem is the hydrogen peroxide will wash most of it away.”

  “Hydrogen peroxide?”

  “Yes. In the absence of antibiotics we’ll use the peroxide to keep the germies at bay.”

  “Can’t you just sew me up?”

  “Wish I could. But there were no sutures in the first aid kit.”

  “I’ve got a needle and thread in my wallet I keep for when the button comes off my shirt.”

  “Oh, so you really do want to die then…”

  “Just trying to be helpful.”

  “My plan is for you to stay right here, flat on your back, for about seven days. By then the bleeding risk will be gone and you can move around again.

  “Meanwhile, four times a day I’m going to unpack and repack your wound with new gauze pads soaked in hydrogen peroxide.”

  “Packing? Unpacking? Sound’s like I’m going on vacation.”

  “Funny.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too.”

  “That was sarcasm. It wasn’t funny at all.”

  “Wow! You’re really trying to hurt my feelings.”

  “Nope. You’ve been hurt enough already. I’m trying to save your life.”

  “Ha! I knew you were in love with me. You just couldn’t bring yourself to admit it.”

  “Not true. You’re more a project. A goal. A mission.”

  “Wow, three things at the same time.”

  “See, my paramedic skills have gotten rusty. If I can save you from dying that’s a feather in my cap and proof to myself that I’ve still got it.”

  “Got what? Your mojo?”

  “Nobody’s said mojo since the seventies.”

  “So that’s when you marry me? After you save my life and get your mojo back?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You know, Frank, I didn’t want to like you. I tried not to because I figured it was only a matter of time before one of my brothers shot you. I never thought that Eddie would do you in instead.”

  “I told you you loved me.”

  “Love, no way Jose. But I admit I like you. You bring a certain newness to the group. New blood, as it were.

  “So yes, I like you. But I could never marry you. Not even if you weren’t four hundred years older than me. I just don’t think I could fall for a cop.”

  That caught his attention. He looked at her with a hint of anxiety.

  She smiled sweetly.

  “Relax. It’s our secret. I’m a person who tries to save lives, not take them. And if I told my brothers you were a cop they’d likely kill you just out of spite.

  “They don’t like cops much, you see.”

  “How come?”

  “They’ve always been that way. They get arrested for doing something really stupid. And then they blame everybody but themselves for their stupidity. They blame the system, they blame the judge, they blame the warden, and they blame the other inmates. They even blame their parents or their family legacy.

  “But mostly they blame cops. Because if the cops hadn’t placed them in handcuffs and carted them off to jail they’d still be on the streets.

  “Doing more stupid things.”

  “Actually, I’m not a cop anymore. I retired from the Sheriff’s office several years ago. But how did you know?”

  “You have the look.”

  “The look?”

  “Don’t forget I used to be a paramedic. I saw police officers on every call I went to. Sometimes they were the first on the scene of an accident and the one who called in for medical assistance.

  “Sometimes they called us in on a crime scene to treat a victim at the scene.

  “Sometimes they came to a fire or accident scene just to see if they could help out or to direct traffic. Or to protect us in a hostile situation.

  “I worked with them a lot. I learned to recognize their look. They have a certain air of authority about them. An air of self-confidence, of being used to being in charge in stressful situations. You have it. Cops never lose it, even after they retire.

  “It’s quite sexy, actually.”

  She winked at him, which caught him totally off guard.

  As was her plan.

  “Why won’t you marry me, if it’s so darned sexy?”

  “Because, like I said, I don’t think a cop would be a good fit in our family. I’d constantly have to worry about your secret getting out and my brothers retaliating against you.

  “And there’s that whole other thing.”

  “What other thing?”

  “You know… about you being four hundred years older than me.”

  “Oh, yeah… that. Well, even four hundred year old men can be sexy. You said it yourself.”

  “I said the whole cop persona was sexy. Not you specifically.

  “Although I have to admit you kinda are.”

  She winked at him again.

  “Boy, talk about sending mixed signals. Are you specifically trying to drive me nuts?”

  “First of all,” she said as she laughed, “I get the distinct impression you’re already nuts.

  “And second, no, I’m not trying to drive you nuts. I’m just trying to keep you off balance. That’s what women do. It helps us keep the upper hand.”

  “Ha! It just helps you not have to admit you want to marry me.”

  She smiled again.

  “I’ll tell you what. Let’s focus on keeping you alive. If you survive until your wound is healed we can talk about the whole marriage thing then, okay?”

  Frank’s eyelids suddenly felt very heavy and he closed them.

  Within a minute or two he was asleep.

  Friendly banter and flirting, it seemed, was exhaustive work for a man in his condition.

  -25-

  Marty didn’t have a clue about the layout of the Shady Rest Home for Children or its relation to its parking lot, but he was rather pleased.

  He was afraid he’d have to back his trailer into position, and the tractor’s loud backup beeper would alert the men inside the building there was a truck outside.

  He’d already killed the lights and kept his foot off the accelerator to keep his engine noise to a minimum. Creeping on its own, the rig found the traction it needed, and moving at a snail’s pace it was no noisier than the howling wind.

  The backup beeper was something he couldn’t turn off as easily as the lights, and he saw it as a potential problem.

  But the main building was on an island, surrounded by a parking lot on all sides.

  That struck Marty as a bit odd, and he wondered if there were so many people clamoring to adopt a child that they required so much parking.

  Perhaps they had a lot of staff and visitors.

  In any event, it worked to Marty’s benefit, so he didn’t complain about it.

  Someone had covered the windows with aluminum foil to help insulate them from the cold. That made Marty smile.

  If he was a more thoughtful man, he might have seen it as a gift from God.

  Perhaps a tacit approval from God that He approved of what Marty was about to do.

  From Marty’s point of view, the Bible might pronounce “Vengence is Mine, sayeth the Lord.” But it didn’t say man shouldn’t help God out sometimes.

  Actually, he figured he was already going to hell for shooting Scott Burley years before after Burley raped a young girl.

  So he had nothing to lose.

  But he had more important things to focus on.

  Marty once had an old girlfriend who pointed out whenever he was in deep concentration he stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth. And it was true, although until then he wasn’t aware of it.

  Now, as he focused on the task at hand, he became oblivious to everything else.

  As his rig crawled slowly around the back of th
e building and then parked directly in front of the structure, Marty’s tongue was hanging very firmly out of the left side of his mouth and was in danger of being accidentally bitten off.

  He came to a stop and placed the tractor in neutral but didn’t apply the air brakes on purpose. The loud hiss they’d make was just too much of a risk. And he was on flat ground in heavy snow.

  The rig wouldn’t roll.

  Neither man said a word as they climbed down from opposite sides of the big tractor.

  Richard knew what to do by now. He climbed aboard the back of the tractor and disconnected the pigtail and the air lines while Marty released the pin and lowered the tanker’s feet.

  They crawled back into the cab and Marty eased the rig slowly forward, leaving the tanker behind him.

  He let the tractor creep another hundred feet away, then once again placed it in neutral and stepped down to the ground.

  On his way out the door he made a gesture with his hand to wave Richard off.

  It was a nonverbal message which said, in effect, “Wait here. I’ve got this.”

  Richard watched in the driver’s side mirror, unsure what was going to happen next.

  He watched as Marty opened the trouble box beneath the sleeper cab and removed two road flares.

  In the dim light they looked like sticks of dynamite.

  He almost wished they were.

  He continued to watch as Marty walked to a place about twenty yards from the tanker, then used his shoe to kick the snow away from his feet and make a bare spot on the ice.

  He placed one flare on the ground and used it as a prop for the second stick, which he lit.

  He placed the lit flare atop the other one, crossed in the center like an “X”, so that the lit end was off the ground.

  Then he went to the tanker and opened up the valve.

  Gasoline gushed forth from the tanker, creating a huge puddle on the ground as Marty rushed quickly away.

  Richard continued to watch as Marty fairly ran to the tractor.

  In the dim light, Richard could see the puddle as it progressed toward the flare, by the snow cover which collapsed in its wake, turning into a sickening pink mush.

  Marty jammed the tractor into gear and spun the tires a bit on the ice as he hauled ass to get out of there.

  They were almost back to the highway when a brilliant flash of yellow light lit up both mirrors.

  A split second later the blast wave shook the truck. The sound of the explosion was deafening.

  Marty pulled the truck to a halt and this time applied his parking brakes.

  The two of them stepped out to inspect their handwork.

  The building was gone, replaced by a huge pile of burning debris.

  The tanker was ruptured, almost ripped into two pieces, and was now on its side.

  For a couple of minutes they watched the fire burn, mesmerized by what they’d done.

  Marty’s first thought, though he’d never express it to Richard or anyone else, was that the men inside the orphanage never knew what hit them.

  And that such an easy death was far better than they deserved.

  When the flames died down they crawled back into the cab and drove away.

  They spoke nary a word until they were back at Eden South, and Marty picked up his radio to request entry.

  It wasn’t necessarily that they didn’t have any words.

  It was that they were both lost in their private thoughts.

  -26-

  Frank woke up sometime later to find Josie standing over him, folding a towel.

  He felt damp.

  And cleaner than he’d felt in a couple of days.

  She saw his eyes and said, “Well hello, sleeping beauty.”

  “Did I really fall asleep?”

  “Uh… yes. About three hours ago.”

  “Wow. I didn’t realize I was sleepy.”

  “The body has a way of forcing you to sleep after you’ve had a traumatic injury. It’s your body’s way of helping you heal, since exhaustion is an enemy to the healing process.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Well then, in addition to being more rested now you’re also a little bit smarter.”

  “I guess.”

  “Speaking of bodies, you didn’t tell me you were a Marine.”

  “I was, many years ago… but how did you know? Did I talk in my sleep?”

  “No, dummy. The tattoo on your upper chest. The one that says ‘USMC’… did you forget you had it?”

  “Actually, I don’t look at it much any more.”

  “You’re ashamed you were a Marine?”

  “Oh, no! I’m very proud to be a Marine. It’s just that… well, after seeing it every day for so many years I just tuned it out.”

  “Why’d you get it, then?”

  “Hey, when you’re a Marine, you pretty much have to get the Marine Corps emblem tattooed on your body. It’s almost an unwritten law.”

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t get any more of them. I’m not fond of tattoos.”

  “How’d you know I didn’t get any more of them?”

  She gave him a sideways glance. A sort of “duh…” look.

  “What, did you think I’d wash your upper body and not the rest of it? I’m insulted. Surely I gave you the impression I was more thorough than that.”

  She smiled rather wickedly.

  “Besides, I wanted to check you out. You know, just in case I changed my mind and decided to develop an interest in four-hundred year old men.”

  Frank blushed a bright red.

  “Oh, come on, you big baby. Don’t you go getting embarrassed on me.”

  “I can’t help it. I feel so used, lying here unconscious while you’re groping me with your eyes.”

  “Yeah, well now you know how every woman in America feels when she walks down the street.”

  He paused for a moment, wanting to ask a question but not sure whether he should.

  Then he decided he had nothing to lose.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “What was your assessment?”

  She smiled the same wicked smile.

  “I decided you’ll do. On the off chance I ever decide to fall in love with a four-hundred year old man I’ll give you a call.”

  “Nice to know.”

  “Of course, there would be the Stacy problem to contend with.”

  “The Stacy problem?”

  “Yes. She’s developed a fondness for you.”

  “I don’t suppose it would help to tell her I’m not interested?”

  “Probably not. She’s used to having her way, you see. When somebody dares tell her no she pitches a fit. A fit that makes a category five hurricane seem just a passing breeze.

  “That’s why everybody goes out of their way to accommodate her. It’s just safer that way.”

  “Has she always been that way?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Any chance of her changing?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “We could tell her I’m gay.”

  “Are you?”

  “No.”

  “That’s nice to know. I’ll file that away for my own selfish reasons.”

  The wicked smile was back again.

  -27-

  “Besides, if we told her you were gay my brothers would hate you more. They’re not the most tolerant people around.”

  “Then what’s the solution?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll work on it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.

  “Now then… I’m getting ready to change your dressing. I want you to watch how I do it, because in a few days I’m going to declare you ambulatory and kick you out of my tent. At that point you’ll be responsible for changing your own dressings.”

  “Kick me out of your tent, huh? You told me when we married you’d love me forever.”

  “Shut up and pay attention. This is kinda
important.”

  He watched as she took a plastic bowl from a package and placed it on the table in front of her.

  Then she poured water into the bowl from a plastic gallon jug marked “distilled water.”

  She took a tube of sterile hand wash and squirted some onto her palm, then scrubbed both hands thoroughly.

  “You with me so far?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  After rinsing her hands in the bowl and donning gloves she removed his dressing, then the gauze pads packed into his wound. Once the wound was empty she examined it closely, then took several more gauze pads from a different bowl, where they’d been soaking in something.

  “What’s in that bowl?”

  “Hydrogen peroxide.”

  “The same hydrogen peroxide I used to gargle with?”

  “The very same.”

  “And what does it do?”

  “If we apply it right, it keeps the wound sterile so it can heal from the inside out.”

  She placed the first of the soaked gauze pads into the wound.

  “Does that burn?”

  “Nope. It tingles a bit. And it’s very cold.”

  “Keep watching what I’m doing, so you don’t screw it up too badly when it’s your turn to do it.”

  “I’m watching, I’m watching.”

  He lied.

  He was actually watching her.

  He found her quite pretty, almost beautiful.

  He started to tell her so, then thought better of it.

  When she packed the last of the pads into the wound she picked up another package.

  This one said “Kotex” on the label.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Frank objected.

  “What?”

  “That’s a feminine napkin.”

  “Wow! You’re smarter than you look, Frank.”

  “Well, what are you gonna use it for?”

  “Look. Normally I’d use a sterile abdominal pad to cover the pads. But unfortunately I don’t have any sterile abdominal pads. This will accomplish exactly the same thing, it’s in a sterile package, and we’ve got thousands of them. Three pallets of them, last time I checked.”

  “I don’t know about this…”

  “Frank, do you want me to save your life or don’t you?”

  “Um… yes.”

  “Then quit being a baby. Nobody is going to question your manhood because of the choice of pads I put on you.