by Terry Yates
FranAnne jumped onto the pile, followed by Kyler. Kyler couldn’t believe the man’s strength. This son a bitch didn’t want to lie down and was letting everybody know it. The man kicked Sgt. Cohen in the face. He grunted as the Stranger’s heel connected with his cheekbone. Kyler wrapped his arms around the man’s other leg, closed his eyes, and held on for dear life. How was the man doing it? Gringo and Potts, both stout men, should be having no trouble subduing him, but even through his closed eyes, Kyler could tell that they were struggling.
While Gringo and Potts were trying to keep his upper half down, FranAnne slid down to his other leg, grabbed hold, and held on. The man continued to flail about with all five of them on top of him.
“We need more help!” Gringo yelled, feeling that he suddenly had a tiger by the tail.
With this, Sam Fong and Zora jumped onto the pile, Sam trying to bend the man’s arm behind his back. He didn’t want to hurt him. He just wanted the man to feel enough pain to cede. Zora, meanwhile had put all her weight on the man’s buttock’s, which was about the only pin zone left with Sam, Potts, and Gringo on the back, arms, and shoulders, and FranAnne, Kyler, and Sgt. Cohen on the legs.
Kyler kept his eyes closed, and continued to hang on. Seven must have been the lucky number, because the man seemed to be relenting, not much, but enough to give them all confidence that at least he was relenting.
As the seven of them continued to wrestle the Stranger, he began to struggle less. The man was lying on his stomach, breathing heavily, the growling sound that he had been making before now amplified, making him sound like a snarling animal.
“All right, everyone,” Potts yelled, “move down to the legs and start dragging!”
Zora, FranAnne, Sam, Gringo, and then finally Potts, slid down to his legs, and grabbed whatever space that wasn’t already being held by someone.
“Okay, while he’s still weak, everybody up off the floor, but don’t let go of his legs!” Potts yelled over the din. “Okay! Up! Up!
On Potts’ command, all seven managed to get up off the floor while still hanging onto his legs. “Okay, now we’re going to drag him over to the table! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
With FranAnne, Zora, Gringo, and Kyler on one leg, and Potts and Cohen on the other, they began to drag him quickly across the tent floor. The Stranger was tired but still fought by grabbing hold of the tent floor as they pulled him, pulling up some of the plywood flooring as he did so.
When they had gotten him to a table, Zack Olsen and Locklear O’Hearley helped pick him up off of the floor and plop him onto his back on top of the table. He continued to fight them, but they were proving too strong for him as Potts, Kyler, and Gringo held down one arm and Cohen, Zack, Locklear, and FranAnne held down the other.
“Someone get some rope!” Potts barked over his shoulder. “There’s a closet in the kitchen area that has some in it!”
Samantha and Zora ran to the kitchen as the group tried to hold the stranger down.
“Nurse Walling!” Kyler yelled. “Do you still have the sedative?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she answered trying to make her way through the sea of bodies that were holding the man down. “Let me through!”
The man continued to thrash against them as Nurse Walling squeezed between Kyler and Potts.
“How many cc’s this time?” she asked, looking up at Kyler, who was red-faced and straining as he tried to hold the arm down.
“Give him the whole thing!” Kyler told, gritting his teeth. “Find a vein and stick him!”
“Hurry up, will ya’!” Potts screamed just inches from her face.
“Move your god damned hand then!” she yelled back.
Both of Potts hands were in the crook of the Stranger’s arm. He tried to force a gap between them, but every time he tried to move them apart, the man’s arm would almost come off the table. He bent down over the man and sank his left elbow down on the Stranger’s arm, putting all of his weight on it, and then slid his right hand out of the crook of his arm. Nurse Walling saw her opportunity and placed the syringe above the vein, which was pulsating up and down.
“Do it now, Nurse!” Kyler screamed.
Nurse Walling placed a finger on each side of the vein, then plunged the needle into it, pressing her thumb down on the syringe as hard as she could, releasing the sedative into the Stranger’s arm.
For a moment, Kyler didn’t think that the sedative was working. The man continued to flail against them for several minutes before his body finally began to give in to the medication.
“Where’s that rope?” Potts screamed loudly.
“It’s right here,” came a voice from behind him. It was Zora holding two coils of rope.
“Give me one of those,” Potts told her.
Zora handed one of the coils to Potts who unrolled several feet of rope, then looked at Sgt. Cohen who was directly across from him.
“Here!” Potts threw the coil over the man’s body to Cohen. “Let’s wrap it around him!”
As the two began to wrap the coil of rope around the Stranger’s chest and arms, Zora and FranAnne were wrapping the other coil around his legs, pinning them to the table. As they tied him down, the Stranger seemed to get a second wind. He heaved his body up as far as he could and began to flail again, not as frenzied as before, but he still fought.
The sedative finally began to work its way through the Stranger’s body. He could feel it creeping through his veins, turning left and right at different arteries. He knew that they were tying him down, but he just couldn’t struggle anymore…and he wasn’t too sure that he really cared anymore.
His body felt completely numb as the medication moved up toward his brain. More memories flashed before him, slower now, allowing him to focus on the images, allowing him to see them almost frame-by-frame, as if they were part of a slide show. One after another, the pictures came, silently but clearly showing him his past, where he had lived, and faces he had known. Yes. It was all coming back to him now. He heard the people talking above him, but once again, their voices were slow and echoed through his brain, but it didn’t scare him as it did before, because he was becoming just too groggy to care.
The memory flashes were now moving so slowly that he felt like he could completely scan them like he would study a painting. He could see grass and trees and sky. Yes. Yes. Yes. He was recognizing everything now. Times…dates…faces…and names. The sedative was finally taking him over completely. He was drifting farther and farther away now. As he began to lose conscious, the final pieces of the puzzle put themselves into place. He now knew his name…how old he was…what he was…and what he would become again…
CHAPTER 28
“Make sure they’re tight!” Potts yelled over the ever-rising noise in the mess hall. Between the thunder and the flapping canvas, which was beginning to flap harder by the minute because of the rising wind, the dog barking, and a newborn baby crying, Potts was yelling louder than usual. “Secure him tightly!”
Privates Hawkins and Gibson both nodded their heads to the colonel as they each began to knot the ropes that were securing the now unconscious stranger to the table. Hawkins’ forehead had a large goose egg sized bump on it, while Gibson’s nose was red and swollen from their face-to-face collision. They’d only been out for about two minutes, but when they awoke, they each had headaches worse than any hangover either of them had ever experienced so far in their short lives.
“I didn’t know white dudes had that kind of strength,” Hawkins had said to Gibson when both had finally sat up after Kyler had given them a good once over.
“I didn’t either,” Gibson had mumbled back to his friend as he tried to clear his head.
Kyler had wanted them to take it easy for a moment, buts Potts was having none of it. He had returned to colonel mode and was throwing orders around like it was his first day in command.
“We’ve got to batten that man and this place down,” he had told Kyler when he had tried to insist that t
he two men needed to rest. “They can rest later. We’ve got bigger problems than a couple of bumps and bruises right now. They’re soldiers. This is what they do.”
Kyler had given up trying to reason with the man, plus he was probably right. They had not been able to finish stacking the sandbags against the canteen wall and it was probably useless to do so now anyway. It would probably take at least an hour or more before they could’ve finished doing it…and that would be if every single able-bodied person joined in. They would just have to ride it out and hope for the best. Potts just wished that Sgt. Cohen had heard the estimated time of its arrival because if it wasn’t arriving soon, they were going to be in big trouble, because they were in the middle of a bad thunderstorm as it was. If it was still hours away…Kyler didn’t want to think about it.
Kyler moved to the center of the room where all of the long banquet tables were still shoved together. He made his way over to Lauren O’Hearley who was sitting up, Ariella next to her stroking her hair. He figured that was probably the first time Ariella had ever stroked Lauren’s hair. She just didn’t seem to be one of those hair-stroking mothers.
“How are you feeling, Sweetie?” Kyler asked her, placing his hand under her chin and looking into her face.
“I’m all right,” she answered him, smiling weakly.
“You know, you gave us a right scare there,” he told her.
“I’m sorry. Is Michael okay?” she asked, moving her eyes to her right.
Kyler looked over at Michael Blum who was still sitting on the edge of his table, the spoiled, rich kid, who’d had to come down a few pegs over the last two days. He seemed to be purposely avoiding the area where Lauren’s table stood. The doctor looked back at Lauren, moving her chin until she was looking back into his eyes again.
“Well…” he started, trying to think of the best way to lie to her. “He’s in a lot of pain for one thing and he hasn’t heard from his parents for the other…and…” He stopped for a moment, not sure whether to say more, but he decided to press on, believing that, at that moment, honesty was the best policy for a doctor. He looked down into her big green eyes. She was calmly waiting for the rest of the statement. “And…I think he’s feeling a little guilty right now.”
“Guilty over what?” she asked, looking away from the doctor and back to Michael.
“When that…thing…”
“You mean the werewolf?” she asked as if she were asking about a car she’d just seen driving down the street.
“You remember all of that?”
“Not much, really. It’s mostly a blur.”
Kyler shot a glance at Ariella.
“No secrets, Doctor,” she told him as she began to stroke her daughter’s hair again.
Exasperated, Kyler returned his attention to Lauren. “Yes…..”
“The werewolf.”
“Yes…the werewolf. Anyway, when the…werewolf attacked, Michael fell on top of you with his elbow and believes he made your appendix burst.”
“That’s silly,” she said smiling, that dreamy quality of her voice returning.
“That’s what I tried to tell him. I think he’s being a little hard on himself for thinking he hurt you.”
“Should I go and talk to him…make sure he’s all right?”
“Maybe later. Right now, we’ve got to change your bandages.”
Lauren smiled up at him. He found himself really taking a shine to her. She was quirky, eccentric, but most of all, she was good-natured, and that was something that he admired in anyone, especially someone who probably got ridiculed quite often for being different. For an eleven year old to let it run off of her back like that was a truly admirable quality.
Kyler checked Lauren’s sutures, changed her bandages, and began to move along down the line of patients. Rob Olsen hadn’t changed at all. He just sat in an almost catatonic state, his chin lying on his chest and his eyes only half opened. When he stopped by Shelly Dixon, he had trouble looking her in the face. Knowing about Sgt. Cohen finding her husband’s dog tags torn from his neck, gave him a big case of the guilts. She still had that hopeful smile on her face that he was still alive and that they’d find each other after the storm. She was still oblivious to the loss of her little boy. Kyler was at least happy with that, but knowing that her husband was most likely dead was a bigger secret to hold onto than he’d thought it would be.
He checked both Shelly and the baby, then moved down to Opal and Wilbur Munn…who were still being Opal and Wilbur Munn. She was turned sideways toward the Stranger’s table, staring at him with those dead eyes of hers. He couldn’t believe that just yesterday she had been a sweet old lady with a broken hip, but now…since the thing had bitten her…she had been nothing but Lady Loony Toons. Wilbur was facing forward toward Kyler. He was looking down, fiddling with his fingers, but looked up when Kyler’s shadow fell over him.
“Hello, Doctor Kyler,” he said, adjusting his glasses. Jesus, could this kid not look more like Radar O’Riley?
“How are you, Corp…eh…Wilbur?”
“I’m okay, I guess. Gramma’s a lot better, isn’t she?
Kyler wasn’t sure how to answer that one. Yes, she was physically better…too much so…her shoulder bite and even her broken hip were both almost completely healed, but her mental state had made a complete U-turn. She stared off into space with a strange knowing smile on her face, and she had more than a passing interest in the Stranger, whom she could not or would not stop staring at.
“Yes, she is better, Wilbur,” Kyler answered in a voice that spoke as much befuddlement as it did confidence. Kyler wanted to tell the ex-corporal that something was terribly wrong with his grandmother. He also had the biggest urge to tell him that it was time to be a man, otherwise he was going to end up being one of those men that you always read about in the newspaper whose mother or grandmother had died years before, but no one knew it, and they continued to talk to the corpse and dress them for dinner, and sleep in the same bed with them, and watch TV with them, and bathe them, and…
Kyler shuddered at the thought.
He moved down to Michael Blum who was now talking to Zack Olsen. Four years separated the boys. In adult years, that was nothing, but in adolescent years, that was a lot, but Kyler was happy to see that Zack was spending time with Michael, talking to him like they were the same age, each taking the other’s mind off his family.
“What’s up, Fellas?” Kyler asked, feeling rather dorky as he did so. Fellas. What a maroon. “How’s that leg?”
“It’s okay,” Michael answered, a little more chipper now that he had someone to talk to.
“No pain?”
“A little…I guess.”
Kyler could see that he was putting on a front for the older boy. He checked the splint. He wished he could put on another cast, but it would probably be a waste of time. There was another hurricane coming, and it would be pointless to do so if the roof fell off of the mess hall or he had to swim for it. They had been lucky the night before in the hospital, but he wasn’t so sure they could survive this one. It was going to be bigger and closer than last night’s.
Kyler checked the tape and rags around the splint to make sure that they were secured tightly. Michael grunted as he did so. Hang in there, Kid, he thought to himself. You’ve got more than a broken leg to go through tonight.
He started to move on. Michael was the last of his patients that needed to be checked on. Nurse Walling was helping with Sylvia Morrison, and most everyone else was doing something to batten down the mess hall. Burt Burns was even hammering now. He had slept a few hours and that seemed to have done the trick. His eyes went involuntarily in search of Zora. He found her across the room, snoozing in a chair. She and Nurse Walling had been going at it while the others slept. They had taken care of all of his patients while he slept. Great, he’d found yet another reason to feel guilty.
Much to Potts’ chagrin, Kyler made one last check on Hawkins and Gibson, who both seemed to be fin
e. Potts had them stacking anything heavy that they could find against the walls. God bless ‘em. They were…as his father would’ve called them…a couple of tough hombres.
He had one last patient to see about. The Stranger. He had lain quiet for over twenty minutes now. He walked to the table where he was strapped down. The Stranger’s eyes were closed. Kyler wondered if he was dreaming at that moment, and what a man with no memory dreamt about. Maybe his subconscious would jog his memory. Maybe his mother or father or someone would call him by his name and then everything would fall into place. He hoped so. There must be nothing worse in the world than not knowing who you are.
Kyler put the stethoscope in his ears and put it against the man’s chest. His heart was beating faster than it normally would be for a person who was so sedated. He placed his hand on the man’s forehead. It was still hot, but the perspiration was gone. He then put his thumb underneath one of the Stranger’s eyelids to look at his pupils. His eye was rolled up into the back of his head, with only the white showing. That was a bit odd, but not that rare. He closed that eye and started to check the other one. Once again, he placed his thumb underneath the man’s eyelid, and opened it. What he saw startled him, almost causing him to jump backwards. He had expected the other eye to be in exactly the same state as the previous one, but when he opened it, he saw that it wasn’t rolled up into the back of his head, but looking straight at him. He didn’t know if it was possible, but it somehow looked angry…really pissed. He quickly closed the eye and took a deep breath before opening it once again. This time, it was like the other one, rolled up into the socket. Shit, that had been spooky.
“Have you figured out what he’s got yet?” Kyler heard as he was walking away from the Stranger. He turned to see Locklear O’Hearley standing where he’d just been. He was looking down at the man.
“I’ll tell you honestly, Professor, I have absolutely no idea. Some doctor, huh? I thought at first that it might be diabetes, but I’ve been around diabetes my whole life, my mother and my older brother had it, and it just doesn’t seem to fit any of the patterns.”