Hell On Fire
Chapter Ten
I turned on my heel to see not a gun, but a man holding his hand out, not to me, but to Tick.
"C'mon, you need some doctorin'." The man helped Tick inside. He was already helping Tick out by the time we stepped inside and shut the door behind us. There was only one other guy in there. Clearly, the guy who helped us had been a doctor. He knew what the fuck he was doin'. He was askin' the other dude to grab him tools and scalpels and what-not. He went to cut Tick's jeans up the seam so he could look at his leg, and Tick immediately resisted. The doc calmed him down, and cut it. The others and I were in the next room; I didn't wanna see no bone stickin' outta anyone's leg.
The doctor walked into the kitchen, where we were.
"Damn," he said. "He ain't got no broken leg… He's… He's bit." The look on Brinnmore's, Seamus' and Mike's faces were absolutely unexplainable. I imagine the look on mine was no better. We was all shocked. Tick was a fuckin' soldier, how could he ever get bit? Damn, that night was rougher than usual. I mean, you never slept well in the apocalypse, but there's some nights…
I went back in the other room to talk to him.
"Hey, Tick," I said. He responded back kind of nully; you could tell he had accepted that he was going to die.
"I shouldn't have run off like that, man. It's my own damn fault.
"It's not, Tick. I know you ran away, and you shouldn't have. But…" I couldn't finish. I had no reason why it wasn't his fault. I couldn't think of one. I just walked away and didn't look back. I heard him slump back on the couch he was lyin' on while I walked out.