Okay be warned there are some slightly graphic images in this chapter! Lots of gore and blood!
Decency
Rhome pushed through the doors to the Burn Ward, refusing to look back as she held the battered and blood smeared doors open wide enough for Rumer and Sol to push Albert inside. Cill followed behind them quickly, glancing around the desolate room before he motioned her on; letting the doors swing shut as they scanned the new open area. The walls and floors were in the same state as the Maternity Ward behind them, covered in blood dirt and spent shell casings while time bleached bones and stagnant corpses littered the beds and tiles.
They pushed through, finding the cleanest room before they stepped inside; Ro holding the doors while Sol and Rumer pushed Albert inside. She turned as the men started talking quietly, Cill listing off the few things on the list he'd scratched out while Rumer kept close to the stretcher. Never venturing too far from the group even as his eyes scanned over the room; something in his blue eyes seeming just the slightest bit duller than it had outside. Ro closed her eyes as flashes of the cracked Nursery window flitted through her mind, bile rising in her stomach as she tried to push the images away. She'd come across a lot of horrible things in the past seven years, had committed unspeakable atrocities against people ravaged by the very disease that had caused the Outbreak just so she and her group could survive. But having to walk past the destroyed nursery, having to see the overturned bassinettes and the blood stained blankets and plush toys littered amongst the tiny bones and half eaten carcasses had been more than even she could take.
Lord knows it didn't inspire her confidence for the survival of the human race.
"Ro?"
Rhome shook herself, turning to Rumer as he looked to her imploringly; his hands practically wringing the makeshift handle to his rebar spear as he shifted uncertainly on his feet. She needed to get a grip on herself. She could fall apart later, when they were free and clear of this blasted city and back out on the highway where they belonged. But right now her friends-her family needed her. And she couldn't afford to slip even the slightest bit.
She straightened, nodding to Rumer as she moved to stand beside Albert; glancing around the overturned instrument trays for a pair of snips she could use to start divesting the man while they waited. Most of his clothing was either burned beyond repair or frayed but some bits seemed to be actually melted into his skin. Something she would have to remove and clean as best she could before they bandaged him or the risk of infection would increase exponentially.
"I'm good, Rum. Why don't you and Sol go ahead and get everything on Cill's list? Actually if it looks like we can use grab it. We don't want to have to come back into the limits again anytime soon."
Rumer nodded firmly, turning to Sol as he took the list from Sol; his light eyes scanning the words as he nodded and hummed to himself.
"We can definitely use everything on here . . . and what we can't we can trade if we ever come across another border town. If I see anything you've missed I'll be sure to add it in. Want me to take your kit? The more room we have to stuff shit the better and faster this is bound to go."
Cill seemed unsure before he tugged the battered duffle off of his back, handing it to Sol like he was handing off a toddler. Ro smirked as she dipped her head, biting her lip as she fought giggling. Only Cill would still be so attached to something as seemingly trivial as a duffle bag . . . She knelt, picking up the scattered instruments from the floor; tossing the dirty or broken aside while she gathered the salvageable few in her shirt.
"Just don't go tearing this up, you hear me? Hell this and the gun are about all I've got left."
Sol nodded as he accepted the bag; Rumer snickering as they rounded the corner out of the ward and down towards the pharmacy. Rhome stilled, watching them go before she shook her head; trying to push the uneasy feeling at the base of her skull away. Sol was a damned good shot and Rumer wouldn't let anything sneak up on him twice in the same day. They would be fine . . . it was just two lefts and right to the pharmacy.
Cill cleared his throat, drawing her eyes up as he nodded towards the too still man on the gurney; his hands clenching and unclenching as he spoke.
"I'll follow 'em, Ro; bring back what we need to help this poor bastard out. Can you think of anything I might've forgotten?"
Rhome shook her head, pushing to her feet to dump the instruments in the sink behind her; not even bothering to try the water. She knew some hospitals had their own reserves and generators but she highly doubted that such a small medical center would.
They weren't that damn lucky.
"Not really. You've dealt with more battle wounds and burns than I have at this point . . . Just grab extra alcohol. I don't know where the supply closets are and I'm not about to go traipsing around upstairs when I can sanitize these."
Cill nodded, sliding the M4 off and setting it aside; letting the muzzle rest against the doorframe as he twirled the bayonet over his fingers. After a second he grinned to her, disappearing into the shadows behind Sol and Rumer far too quietly to be as big as he was. Rhome rolled her eyes, turning to rummage through drawers until she found a sealed pack of gloves; blowing the dust off the package before she broke the seal. As soon as she had them over her hands she started slowly peeling the torn burned fabric from Albert's wounds as she shook her head. She worked quickly and quietly, using an easy touch to pull the fabric free of the charred flesh with her fingers; occasionally pulling pieces of metal and what looked like shattered bone out of the wounds.
But as Rhome finished the man's left leg and moved on to the right she noticed something off. The wounds that had bled so profusely before were barely oozing now, the blood thicker and dark as it pooled inside the gouges and cuts. She shifted, leaning closer to inspect the gash she'd just cleaned before she blinked; momentarily dazed as she realized what she was seeing. The gash had been deep, nearly to the bone with a sizeable metal splinter buried in the muscle almost to the tibia . . . but now that she'd pulled the debris free the wound seemed more like a cut. Actually before she'd thought she needed to stitch it closed but now it seemed to have almost completely healed; almost looking like a cat scratch rather than the gaping wound she'd just touched.
She eased back, looking up to Albert's face; brows drawn as she took in the pale waxy skin around the charred flesh of his mouth and chin.
Hadn't those burns covered almost all of his face before?
"Ro?"
Rhome jumped, yelping as she turned; the ax propped against the gurney in hand and raised as Cill leapt back. She stilled as he lowered his hands, both of them blushing bright before she dropped the ax; glaring at the Ranger as he chuckled. Cill stepped closer, dropping his arm load of supplies at the end of the gurney before he stepped around to inspect their patient; clucking his tongue as he nodded.
"Damn, Ro. I knew you'd probably start but I didn't think you'd be able to get this far. How long was I gone?"
Ro turned, shrugging as she gathered the alcohol and opened the bottles; rinsing off a reservoir before she filled it nearly to the brim. She dropped the instruments in, running her fingers over the snips and forceps. She hadn't thought he'd been gone that long but apparently he had-how else could she explain getting so much cleaned?
"I didn't think it was that long but honestly who can tell these days? Its not like our watches and clocks still work you know."
Cill turned to face her, his eyes troubled as he looked over the stranger's chest; his voice almost distant.
"Yeah but this . . . I swear he was worse off than this Ro. I mean look-" he gestured to his chest and torso, voice low as he stepped closer. "This isn't what we saw before. When Rumer brought him in he was cooked through and through-He smelled cooked. But now these burns are barely third degree. I mean there's still charred flesh around his neck and face but there's not as much meat there. If I didn't know any better I'd swear this guy was getting better . . . without us touching him."
Albert moved, a guttural groan tearing through the room before he stirred; his fists clenching and unclenching as he shifted on the gurney before settling. But even from her spot in the room Rhome could see that the flesh on his hands wasn't black and burnt; it was pink and healthy. Almost new. She took a step closer, reaching out to pick up his hand; peeling the glove away as she inspected the damage. The exposed bone-what little there was now-wasn't black and charred, it seemed white and healthy. Just like the tissue and muscle around it seemed to be healing.
She turned to Cill with wide eyes, the Ranger looking back to her just a befuddled.
"What in the hell is going on here? Is this even possible-I mean people don't just miraculously get better from being burned near to death. Not in less than three hours right?"
Rhome ran her tongue over her lips, going to speak when the doors to the room burst open; Rumer and Sol practically falling inside as three figures blocked the doorway. Rhome watched as the figures stepped inside the room, tossing two of the bags on the floor at Rumer's feet while the largest kept Cill's duffle slung over his shoulders. The largest in the front was more mass than actual muscle, jagged scars criss crossing his face and neck; his shaven head sporting haphazard chunks of hair towards the base of his skull. Like he hadn't been able to reach all of it before he'd just given up.
The other two were smaller; thinner with defined wiry muscle. But the taller of the two was wearing the most unsettling thing- a worn shoestring laced through severed human ears, dangling gaily around his neck like some macabre honor badge. Ears stepped up, tossing another three bags to floor to join their own; Rhome's eyes taking in the contents as the bile in her stomach rolled. All of the bags were over flowing with tiny glass bottles, needles, gauze, sterile tape and sleeves of push packets of pills; a few of the med bottles actually rolling out of the closest duffle to roll across the floor. But the meds in their bags weren't antibiotics-they were narcotics and barbiturates . . . meaning they'd stumbled on these idiots in the middle of a fucking drug raid.
"Well, well. Looks like we got ourselves a few visitors now don't we? Now what's a couple a fine looking fellas like you doing here?"
Cill's eyes went hard as he took the three in, Rumer scrambling back while the largest stepped forward; lowering his rifle at Sol's knee. Rhome swallowed, glancing between her brother and the idiots at the door; trying to keep her heart from beating out of her chest as her brain scrambled to work. If she and Cill moved together they could take the first two no problem-even Hefty up front . . . but it left the third free to cause too much damage.
After what seemed like a small eternity the smallest man stepped forward, looking over Cill's tattered tactical vest with a yellow toothed sneer; true malice sweeping over his face before he turned to glance at the incapacitate man behind her on the gurney. The man's eyes took on a new light, something primitive and feral as he stepped closer; Cill moving towards him even as Ears brought his rifle up.
The smallest however waved him off, stepping around Rumer and Sol as he moved closer to the gurney; looking over the man they'd been trying to help like he was eying some great treasure. Or some great delicacy. He trailed dirty fingers just over the exposed skin, practically teetering as he grinned and chortled; muttering to himself.
"Oh yes-what a fine lot we have here . . ."
The man went to touch the open gash on Albert's leg when Rhome moved, speaking before she stopped to think; batting his hand away as he looked to her amazed.
"NO! You can't touch him-you'll cause the wounds to become infected-"
She watched the shock fade from amazement to wrath, all traces of the sanity she'd seen before receding as madness washed over his features; his look dark and menacing as he stepped forward. Rhome didn't step back as the man turned on her, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breathe against her skin; that she could almost taste the foul smell radiating off of him in waves. But what bothered her more than the stench of body odor and filth was the almost rotten sweet aftertaste of the man's words.
This wasn't someone sane-and it wasn't someone who was going to let them leave. Not without giving him something . . . or splitting his head open.
"Now we don't want that do we? No we want our big friend back here to be right as rain . . . Everything's so much more fun when they can fight back at least a little."
Rhome glared, catching his hand as he moved to touch him again; all reason leaving her as she felt herself start to get angry. It was apparent that they weren't going to escape this unscathed but this idiot wasn't about to undo everything she'd just done. She didn't care if she hadn't actually disinfected the wounds yet-all that mattered was keeping these things as far from them as she could. And for the moment Albert was definitely one of them.
"I said don't touch him. He's hurt-"
Yellow teeth moved so quickly she almost missed it, backhanding her hard enough that her jaw ached; sending her staggering back into the gurney. Her hand slipped, digging into the burned healing tissue of Albert's leg; making her wince while the injured man stirred and groaned. Yellow teeth seemed to perk as Albert showed signs of life, moving to run grimy fingers down his cheeks before he moved onto his arms; pinching the muscle tightly as he nodded.
"Oh yes. This one is well fed . . . He's gonna be real good. But don't worry babydoll. You won't be around to watch us have our fun. You I plan to keep all for myself."
Rhome's hand came to her face as she glared, Solomon surging forward just as Cill took another step towards the gun propped in the corner. Hefty jerked as Sol moved, the sound of the rifle deafening in the small room. Sol screamed, clutching his leg as he crumbled; blood pouring over his fingers and onto the floor as Rumer dipped to check on him. Ro watched her brother shed his coat, bunching it together to hold pressure on the wound; Cill glaring as he stepped up behind them. Hefty seemed unsure before Ears urged him forward, a voice far too light to come from something so menacing goading the larger idiot.
"Way to go Randal. You're not supposed to shoot our dinner full of lead. That's your leg."
Yellow teeth cackled as Hefty seemed to sulk, turning back to Rhome as she leaned as far back from him as she possibly could; almost completely on the groaning man behind her. She knew that the added pressure on his chest wasn't pleasant but damn it neither was being told that you were in for rape, torture and becoming dinner. None of them were in an ideal situation. Yellow teeth leaned even further into her, dirty hands on either side of her as he ran his nose over her jaw.
Suddenly the acrid sweet stench to his breath made sense. It was one she'd smelled before-when she'd been researching the effects of Neoprene's Disease within the Biami tribe of Papua New Guinea as a grad student. It was the stench of a man eater; the rotten horrid scent of rotting teeth and human flesh.
"Why so shy, babydoll? I promise it'll only hurt a lot."
Rhome shuddered before she could help it, almost gagging as Yellow teeth chuckled and leaned in; something warm and wet dragging up her neck to swirl over her jaw. She closed her eyes, fingers clenching in the burnt fabric of Albert's shirt as she scuttled back as far as she could; slicing open her hands on the debris still embedded in his skin. She focused on the pain in her hands as his tongue ran over the other side of her neck; trying to block out the sensation as she felt the man beneath her shift and groan. Yellow teeth chuckled again, one of his hands coming up to knot in her hair; gripping the curls at the base of her skull tightly as he jerked her forward. Making her nearly topple off of the gurney before she caught herself; fisting her hands in Albert's clothes and skin again before she thought about it.
"Well looky here boys! The big fella appreciates the show-Why don't we give him something to really groan about, babydoll?"
As Rhome tried to jerk away the pained groan beneath her deepened, rolling and rumbling off of the walls in this sinister animalistic growl; every person in the room freezing. Yellow teeth turned back to the Stranger, eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip in Rhome's hair; tugging her away from the man on the gurney and into his chest. Rhome yelped, trying to keep her distance even as Albert started to move; shifting on the gurney as his hands clenched and unclenched.
Yellow teeth turned to her, jerking her hair again; the force behind the move making her neck hurt and ache as she winced. But the scavenger didn't care, his jagged nails digging into her skin as he tightened his grip; his voice barely a hiss as he seethed as her.
"What in the hell was that?"
Rhome tried to gather herself as hefty and the trophy keeper stepped away from the others; moving to surround the gurney as they raised their weapons. The three men were jittery, shifting anxiously as they kept their guns trained on Albert; Yellow teeth jerking her again as he kept his pistol aimed at the Stranger's head.
"I asked you a question babydoll. And I expect an answer. Now what in the hell was that?"
Rhome cut her eyes to Cill; watching as he eased towards he M4 while the others' backs were turned before she turned back to Yellow teeth. She needed to provide a distraction-keep these idiots attention for just a few more moments. Then-after they were dealt with- she was getting her people as far from this hospital; hell this city as she could. And she sure as hell wasn't taking the growling, snarling man that was healing behind her if she could help it.
"I-I don't know. We-" Yellow teeth jerked again as Albert shifted; Rhome screaming as she felt a patch of skin and hair rip away at the sudden move. "AH! We found him! Close to the shore. He was hurt so we were helping-"
Yellow teeth opened his mouth, turning the pistol to rest on her temple as he sneered. But just as he went to speak the groaning growling man on the stretcher sat straight up, his head jerking towards the four of them; blazing serpentine eyes wrathful and wild as they moved over them. Rhome felt her breath catch, true fear pushing through her veins as Yellow teeth brought the gun back to Albert; firing off two shots right into the man's chest as the other two staggered back. Albert jerked and surged back, hunching over his legs in a slump before he shook his head; a rich dark chuckle sounding as his shoulders started to shake.
Rhome watched with wide eyes as he sat up, the bullet wounds barely noticeable in the carnage of his chest; very little blood oozing from the slowly closing holes as the man turned to face them. He threw his legs over the side of the stretcher, swinging them back and forth experimentally as he smirked; shaking his head while yellow teeth staggered back with the others. Albert's smirk went from playful to pitying, his eyes narrowing as they flitted over the three men crowded around her; his tone patronizing and indignant as he cracked his neck from side to side.
"You shouldn't have done that."
Jesus Christ what did they do now?
And Albert is awake!