the sheriff
The swift click of a safety switch caused Olivia's heart to skip a beat. It seemed she was never going to get any rest today.
Shifting her head towards the tree line she spotted the small lonely figure of a boy. A wide brimmed hat shadowed his freckled face and stern looking expression. He had what appeared to be a gun directed at her, except a tube pipe was attached at the end with duct tape. Thinking the sight before her was a hallucination from blood loss Olivia brought her right hand to rub her tired eyes. Peering through her finger tips the image of the boy still stood before her. Olivia licked her cracked lips and as she was about to ask if he was real, the boy spoke.
"Have you been bit?", he demanded.
Olivia blinked several times before the question finally registered.
"No", she croaked in a raspy voice which hardly sounded like her own.
He seemed sceptical of her answer as his eyes scrutinised her figure before zeroing in on the side of her head. Olivia realised the river had not completely washed away Jerry's blood from her face and hair. She pulled her coat collar aside to show him that no wound lay hidden underneath.
"It's not mine, see", she assured him.
He frowned at her response, obviously not trusting her word. "Are you alone? Are there others?", he pressed.
Her eyes drifted to the clear water container resting next to his boots. She must have disturbed him from refilling the large bottle when she washed ashore. She could only imagine what a sorry state she looked liked to him, completely drenched and covered in specks of dirt and blood. Quite a startling sight she would have made indeed.
"I'm alone. It's just me."
The tension in his shoulders wavered slightly from her answer. He seemed satisfied for the moment but he did not let his guard down, or the gun. The two of them didn't speak for several minutes as they gauged whether or not the other meant them any harm. Turning on the bed side manner Olivia decided to try and ease the tension in the air.
"I'm Olivia by the way. What's your name?", she asked.
The boy scuffed at her attempt at being friendly. "Like I'm going to tell a complete stranger my name. Sorry Olivia, but I'm not dumb."
A smile twitched on her lips at his bravo behaviour. The sheriff's badge perched on top of the hat on his head gleamed at her in the afternoon sun.
"You're absolutely right, Officer. How silly of me to ask", she teased.
Pink speckled his checks in either anger or embarrassment from her retort. He holstered his gun and bent over to collect the plastic bottle at his feet. Olivia mentally patted herself on the back for getting him to take the gun off her. She watched as he cautiously approached the water making sure to put enough distance between her and himself before bending over to start filling it. They both sat in silence as the water poured into the container. The boy met her gaze finally and his face contorted into another frown.
"Why are you just sitting there? And why do you keep looking at me for?", he huffed.
The smile on Olivia's lips turned down slightly before she looked the boy squarely in the eye. "To tell you the truth, Officer, I don't think I can actually get onto my feet at the moment. You see I was badly hurt this morning.."
Before she could finish the boy was upon his feet again, drawing the gun from his side. "I thought you said you weren't bitten?!", he yelled.
Olivia raised her hands in surrender, trying to calm the agitated boy. "I promise you I haven't been bitten. Please let me finish before you literally jump the gun on me."
"Show me!", the boy ordered from behind the barrel of the gun.
"What?" replied Olivia.
"Show me where you're hurt!", he growled as he became frustrated with how slow she was to respond.
Dropping her hands, Olivia quickly unzipped the front of her coat and peeled the left side away to reveal the metal seat belt clasp still wedged in her side. The boy visibly blanched at the sight before turning away quickly towards the river. Olivia allowed him time to digest what he had just seen as she re-zipped the front of her jacket to protect the wound.
Speaking calmly Olivia tried to engage him in conversation. "Sorry about startling you with that but it was the only way of getting you to listen. Look, I need your help to find a few things so I can fix myself. Are you able to help me, Officer?"
The boy was intently watching the water spiral into the plastic container, obviously trying to avoid further eye contact. He seemed to be mulling over Olivia's request for his help. She knew it was a lot to ask a child, especially during these dangerous times, but she simply could not do this one her own. She waited patiently as he inwardly struggled with the moral dilemma before him. Eyes still trained on the river he quietly spoke to her.
"How.. how did that happen?", he muttered.
A sigh moved past Olivia's lips as she shifted to stretch her legs out, trying to dry out her jeans on the river bed. She knew an explanation would be required of her but she was hoping to delay it as memories of her morning still terrorised her. She didn't want to awaken the feelings of remorse and loathing quite yet.
"It's not really important how it happened. What matters is that I know how to treat it", she replied.
She crossed her fingers hoping he wouldn't press the issue further. Olivia watched as he stood to remove the filled bottle from the water and tightly capped the blue plastic lid with several twists. He finally turned to address her with his hands resting on his hips, a pose she noted appeared casual but was strategic in it's placement in accordance to the holstered gun.
"If I help you will you swear to keep moving on and not follow me?", he questioned.
Even though the prospect of being alone scared her she knew she owned it to the boy to respect his request if he aided her. She knew all too well the consequences of blindly trusting strangers. She replied with a curt nod of her head. Satisfied with their agreement the boy told her to wait there as he turned toward the woods and disappeared into the dense scrub. Olivia pushed down the panic that flared inside her at the thought of being deserted. Surely he would not have simply left her as he would have taken the refilled water bottle with him.
Several tense minutes ticked by before the bushes parted and the boy remerged with a worn backpack flung over one shoulder. He stopped a little ways from her before dropping to a crouch to ruffle through the contents of the bag. A thermos, cigarette lighter, woollen blanket, ammunition clips, and a handful of comic books were dumped onto the pebbly river bed. Before she could read the titles on the books the boy let out a whoop as he pulled a sealed plastic bag with bandages and other first aid supplies from the depths. He tossed the packet to her before turning to replace his processions back in the bag.
"Those came from a pharmacy a few towns over but it should help" he said, as he struggled to get the worn blanket to fit.
Olivia gratefully accepted the bag and popped open the seal to take stock of the items she had to work with. Bandages, antiseptic patches, vitamins, scissors and a variety of mediation to treat colds and pain greeted her. Feeling happier with the her chances Olivia knew she could use those items provided but she still needed a few more important things. Placing all the contents neatly back into the plastic pocket, as well as the cigarette lighter from the boy's bag, Olivia gently smiled at the young sheriff.
"Thank you. This will definitely make my life a lot easier but I have one last favour. I'm still in need of a few of things like pliers, thread, soap and a needle. Do you know were I could get those from?"
The boy stopped in his task of zipping his pack up to ponder the whereabouts of her list of goods. "There's a house not too far from here. Looked abandoned, but it may have the things you need." He hoisted the pack onto his shoulder and moved to reach for the water container.
Olivia's fingers clenched the medicine bag knowing the inevitable goodbye was fast approaching. She pushed her mind to think about the new grim challenge of finding the house the boy spoke of. Her musings were interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing. The young sheriff stood impatiently with the water container in hand.
"Ahem. Are you going to sit around all day or are we going to look through that house?", he asked.
Not having to be told twice, Olivia scrambled to her feet with great difficulty. She brought her left hand under her injury to provide support, as her other fiercely clutched the medicine bag. The two odd travelling companions set off together into the forest at a slow pace towards the house.
...
The single story white panelled house with it's overgrown garden and worn paint oozed neglect. It gave a tired impression which was probably caused by the previous owners treatment before the outbreak. They both stood before the front porch with eyes flickering from window to window searching for any sign of movement. The boy placed the water container at his feet and moved to count the number of shells remaining in the clip.
His preparation put Olivia on edge about the pandora's box they were about to open when they stepped onto that wooden decking. Feeling the need to prepare herself she passed the plastic bag onto the hand supporting her side and moved her free hand between the gap in her coat to reach for the hunting knife tucked into her belt. Grasping the handle tightly she carefully maneuvered the blade to the surface. Her eyes locked with the young boys as the knife made its appearance from beneath her coat. He seemed startled by the realisation she was armed but he pushed it aside quickly to give her a stiff nod, signalling his approval at her choice of weapon. They couldn't afford drawing too much attention to themselves in such a condensed space.
After one last sweep of the windows the boy lent towards her. "I'll go in first and you make sure to cover our backs", he whispered.
Before she could protest about allowing him to enter the house, the young man was before the fly screen door with his hand clasped around the metal handle. The screen creaked loudly causing both of them to wince. The pair stood still waiting for something to spring out at them from the dim hallway beyond but the house did not stir. Turning towards her, the boy waved at her to join him. Hobbling up the stairs and across the porch Olivia placed herself in the doorway transferring the weight of the door from the boys hands as he advanced into the hallway. The handmade silencer was unwavering as he swept through the hallway checking each room before moving on. Carefully, Olivia allowed the door to close behind her before silently following him.
The hallway was barren of artwork, knick-knacks or family portraits except for the faded burgundy rug beneath their feet. The first doorway she passed contained a small untidy office and a little further up on the opposite side was a lounge room which could have been considered cosy once without the thin layer of dust now coating everything.
Her observations were interrupted by a sudden thump that came from the back of the house. Fearing the boy had run into trouble Olivia quickly pushed herself passed an empty kitchen and bathroom towards the source of the noise. Gripping the knife to allow herself the movability to aim high she approached the last room in the house. Her lips parted to call for the boy when he suddenly emerged from the room. He jumped when he saw the knife directed towards his head but he quickly masked his surprise with a scolding look.
"You shouldn't sneak up on me like that. I could have shot you", he lectured.
Olivia kept her eyes on the doorway behind him as he moved to get past her. "What was that noise I heard? Did something happen?", she asked.
The boy holstered his gun and shrugged. "Just a walker in the bedroom but I took care of it", he replied.
As he made his way back towards the kitchen Olivia placed herself in the entry way to a master bedroom. The decaying body of an elderly man was sprawled out on the quilted bedspread which was slowly becoming discoloured from the weeping bullet hole to his temple. The shot was skilfully placed and the way the boy carelessly shrugged off having to dispatch an infected cast him a completely different light for was strong and capable for someone so young and she was slightly sadden he would have to grow up in such a violent world.
The sound of opening and closing cupboards from the kitchen reached her ears as she moved forward to close the bedroom door to conceal the unpleasant sight. As she wondered into the kitchen tucking the knife back through her belt she spotted the hatted youth rummaging through the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink searching for supplies. She placed the medicine bag on a dusty kitchen bench not far from his hunched form.
He directed a triumphant smile at her as we waved a pair of pliers in his right hand. "Looks like I hit the jackpot, your majesty", he snickered.
"Let's see how lucky you really are, Officer. Want to help me check the front rooms for a needle and thread, please?", she asked, ignoring the jab at her accent.
Placing his backpack on the tiled floor, the boy zipped past her towards the dusty living room leaving Olivia to search the study near the front of the house. Paper littered the old wooden desktop and beige carpeted floor. Photos of a couple stared brightly up at her as she recognised the face of a man who was now lying down not too far from this room. She pulled apart the draws on the desk in her search but they proved fruitless. Turning towards the small cabinet in the room she opened the doors to discover several half empty bottles of alcohol. She removed a bottle of vodka from the shelf and made her way towards the lounge room to help with the search. She spotted the young boy wedged in between a worn leather sofa chair and a cabinet. The lid was thrown open revealing a sewing machine. She watched as he plucked a large needle and nylon threat from the masses of fabric cutoffs and buttons.
Wiggling his latest plunder the boy directed an impish smile at her. "That's two from two now", he taunted. His eyes drifted to the bottle hanging from her right hand and he gawked at the sight.
"You can't be serious lady. You're planning to get drunk at a time like this? That's so stupid", he chastised.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she turned from the room and it grew as the sound of eager footsteps shadowed her into the kitchen. Getting him to place the medicine bag, needle and thread alongside the pliers on the kitchen bench top Olivia started preparing for the task ahead of her. Her muscles burned as she shrugged out of her damp coat and rested it over the back off a kitchen chair. She requested her helpful assistant to check the bathroom for soap and a clean towel as she started undoing her knotted blouse. With a wince she shifted the fabric through the ever present seatbelt clasp and unbuttoned it a little further to tie the ends together again just under her bust. Thus keeping her shirt away from the injured area, whilst still preserving her modesty.
Popping open the plastic pharmacy bag she removed the cigarette lighter and picked up the needle from the bench. When the boy reappeared with a cake of yellow soap and green towel in hand he found Olivia standing in front of the kitchen sink passing the needle through the flame of the lighter. He dumped the requested items next to her before he hopped on top of a nearby counter to watch.
"What are you doing that for?", he asked.
Olivia's skilled eyes and hands did not waver as she continued rotating the needle as she replied to him. "I'm sterilising the needle to prevent infection. Heating the metal will remove the bacteria which could eventually cause death if they manage to spread into the wound."
She balanced the needle on the side of the sink before she handed the lighter back to the boy. Grabbing the pliers she held them over the sink as she poured the vodka generously over them and placed them next to the needle. Shuffling through the kitchen Olivia found a teapot which was quickly filled with water and placed on the gas stove with help from the boy's trusty lighter to ignite it. They waited in comfortable silence as they listened to the kettle come to a boil.
As the kettle whistled to life Olivia instructed the boy to carefully remove the pot from the stove and pour it over the green towel from the bathroom. She assigned him the task of rubbing the yellow bar of soap into the warm wet towel, as she saturated the nylon thread in vodka before threading it through the eye of the sterilised needle. Bracing her hands against the kitchen bench Olivia scrutinised the surgical equipment gathered before her. Beggars can't be chooses, she inwardly muttered to herself.
Taking the bar of soap from the boy she proceed to wash her hands with the lukewarm water from the kettle. Flickering her hands to dry Olivia was struck with a sudden thought. She opened one of the top kitchen draws to grab a wooden spoon from amongst the kitchen equipment. Turning towards her helpful assistant she gave him a reassuring smile.
"Now Officer turned helpful nurse, here comes the tricky part. Will you pass the items to me when I ask?"
The boy shifted from foot to foot as his eyes flickered from her face to the wound. "You've done this before, right?", he asked nervously.
"Of course, just never before with this improvised equipment or on myself", she replied cooly. He seemed sceptical of her answer but he masked it quickly, steeling himself for his new role.
Olivia held the wooden spoon in one hand as she reached for the dwindling bottle of clear liquid and brought it to her mouth, taking a large swig. The harsh taste burned down her throat causing her to blanch and cough. Placing the wooden spoon between her teeth she poured the remaining liquor over her left side. Tears pricked at her eyes and her jaws clenched down on the wood as the clear liquid seeped into her tender flesh.
Olivia did not allow herself time to rest as she quickly pawned off the empty bottle to the boy before grabbing the pliers leaning on the sink. She clasped the pliers onto the metal seatbelt wedged in her skin and tugged. She sobbed and cursed against the spoon in her mouth as she slowly extracted the metal from her side. With one last pull the metal slipped from her flesh and was instantly accompanied by a steady flow of crimson.
Tossing the pliers and metal shrapnel in the sink Olivia gestured for the boy to hand her the damp soaped towel. Shaking fingers accepted his offer and she pressed the cloth against the hole in her side to steam the bleeding. Using the corners of the towel she mopped the blood and dirt away from the wound to clean it. Harsh breaths filtered through the quiet room as Olivia lent against the countertop waiting for the blood to eventually clot. She spied the boy leaning over the sink to inspect the piece of metal which was once imbedded in her side, but she didn't have the energy to face him to gauge his expression.
The stream of blood coating the front of her jeans and side came to a slow stop. Olivia deemed her handiwork satisfactory as she peeled the blood soaked cloth from her hip to carefully wipe the wound one last time. Tossing the towel to join the pliers she picked up the threaded needle to begin stitching herself up. It was an painfully odd sensation as the needle passed through her pinched together flesh. She was used to performing the task on other people, not herself. With a slight tug Olivia knotted the end of the thread and held it way from herself allowing the boy to cut it with the scissors from the medicine bag.
The wooden spoon clattered to the ground as she released it from the torture of her teeth. Hands covered in blood pointed towards the bag to convey to her assistant she required the other items. Snatching up the bag the boy held up a large antiseptic patch and with a nod from her, started to remove the plastic packaging. The boy carefully avoided the sticky side as he passed her the patch, which she pressed firmly against her stitched side. Together they wordlessly worked a roll of bandage cloth around her middle to provide extra covering before securing the end in the mass of fabric.
With her back leaning against the countertop Olivia stared up at the eggshell coloured ceiling. She was bruised, in pain and exhausted but a feeling of achievement surged through her. She had managed to successfully operate on herself. Her train of thought was interrupted as a glass of water with two fizzling panadol was directed under her nose. Her head lolled to the side to see the familiar sheriff hat, freckled face and hand attached to the glass.
"The water's clean. I had a smaller water bottle in my rug-sack", he told her.
She gratefully accepted the glass and quickly swallowed to enable the pain killers to kick in. As she rested she watched the boy rummage through the remaining cabinets in the kitchen. He was successful in finding several canned tins of fruit and fish which he placed into his overly packed bag. Popping off the removable lid of a pineapple tin he settled down in one of the kitchen chair with a salvaged fork to enjoy a well earned snack. He stopped his munching when he realised Olivia was observing him across the room. He gestured the can towards her in offering but she shook her head wanting him to treat himself. With a shrug of his shoulders his fork dived into the can to retrieve his reward.
Using the remainder of the water in the kettle Olivia proceeded to wash the blood caking her fingers and nails with the yellow bar of soap. With wet hands she unknotted her blouse allowing it to hang down before she started to thread the white buttons through their respective holes. When she was done she looked up and out the window facing an overgrown garden burdened with thistles and weeds.
"Thank you. You saved my life.", she spoke.
Turning to see the young sheriff place the empty tin with fork on the table she spotted the slight pink tint on his cheeks.
"Twas' nothing", he muttered to the floor.
Not feeling the need to tease his bashfulness Olivia gave him a soft smile as she started to repack the plastic pharmacy bag. The boy jumped from his kitchen perch to assist her in replacing it back into his bag. As the boy picked up the pack to swing over his shoulders Olivia resecured the hunting knife tucked in her belt and retrieved her khaki coat from the chair the boy was previously sitting on. Threading her arms through and allowing the coat to remain open to dry Olivia looked towards her former assistant. He was roughly chewing on his bottom lip as he struggled with his words. Olivia took pity on him and decided to make it easier for them both.
"Don't worry I'll keep my word. We had a agreement remember.", she promised.
The boy gave her a stiff nod and turned to make his way towards the front door to collect the large water container he had left on the porch. Olivia followed behind allowing him space as they approached the screen door when he suddenly stopped, turned towards her and stuck out his hand.
"I'm Carl."
Not wanting to offend him Olivia moved forward to accept his outstretched hand. "It was lovely to meet you Officer Carl. Please stay safe out there", she replied.
Letting go of her hand quickly he turned to grasp the metal handle on the door. A frown pinched Olivia's forehead when he hesitated pushing the handle. She was about to ask him what was wrong when he spoke with his back still facing her.
"You know a lot about healing and stuff, right? Do…Do you think you could help my mom? She's been really ill lately", he pleaded.
Olivia's mind reeled at his heartfelt request but worry prickled within her at the thought of his mother's illness being the same possible strain that herself and her colleagues could simply not find a cure for. It wasn't fair for him to face that alone. Thinking herself a complete and utter fool she found herself again making the decision to help someone. She only hoped it did not yield the same results as earlier that morning.
"I can try", she whispered.
