The doctor trips when she enters our house, but I simply kick her as I walk by. I lock the door, yank the woman to her feet, and walk her into the living room. Unfortunately, we have to walk by the kitchen. I cleaned the children, but to a doctor it must be clear what those bones are. She shakes her head and tells me, "Disgusting.". I peak into the survivor's room to make sure she's asleep, turn to the insane doctor, and tell her, "It's fucked up, but we're eating like queens. Tell my friend what she's eating and I'll blow your brains out.". She looks grim and nods. I put my gun up, but leave it at the ready. The doctor curses me as I drag her into the teenager's room, and the teen in question wakes up and looks confused. I lean into the doctor and whisper, "You're a friendly doctor who's here to help us. Tell her the truth and you'll be dinner.". For once she actually seems afraid. So, cannibalism scares the mad surgeon. Good, I have something to use in the future. The survivor is now wide awake, and looking at us with confusion in her eyes. I smile and tell her, "I found a helpful doctor at the hospital. She was helping some fellow survivors, but she thinks you're of utmost importance. She'll examine your wound and do what she can for your injury. Okay?". The teen nods and sits up a little straighter, her leg outstretched.
The doctor walks over, unwraps the wound, and cringes. She pulls out some ointments, creams, bandages, and stitching supplies. The surgeon peels back the skin, adjust the muscles, and asks, "Who set the bone?". I promptly tell her, "Me.". She blinks and says, "You did an okay job, but parts of the bone are shattered. If you didn't have me, then the bone shards would have stopped the healing.". She pulls a glove from her pack, puts it on, and begins picking out large shards of bone. When the large pieces are taken care of she tells me, "The smaller pieces will get dissolved by the body, so that's taken care of. Now, do you want me to force the bone together?". I have no idea what she's talking about, so I ask her to explain it. She rolls her eyes and says, "I can technically staple the pieces of bone together. It'll heal faster, but I'll have to go in and remove the staples.". I quickly ask, "Is this an actual medical practice or did you invent it?". She scoffs and says, "New York does it.". New York might do it now, but they didn't before zombies rose from the ground. I tell her, "Don't staple anything.". She sighs, but goes back to work. While she positions the bone I go and unchain the teen, the red-haired woman rubbing her wrist. I pat her on the shoulder and promise, "I'll never do that again.". She nods and tells me, "You better not.". I can't help laughing.
After the bone is taken care of the doctor adjust the muscles, occasionally rubbing a cream or ointment on the red meat. Finally, she places the skin back where it belongs. The teenager has been taking deep breathes through the entire thing, obviously in some sort of pain. I reach out and grasp her hand, supporting her. She squeezes my hand as the stitches go through her skin, the black lace standing out against her hairy leg. I suddenly notice how filthy we are. Unshaven, uncleaned, and I think I can actually see some bugs in the teen's hair. We need to bathe. Soon. Then, I hear the woman whimper in pain and decide to tackle one problem at a time. When the stitching is done I look outside and see the sun about to sit. I promptly tell the doctor, "Give her some pain medicine, then follow me to your room.". The teenager thanks the insane woman, takes her pills, and snuggles down for bed. I drag the doctor out of the room, yank her into the only other bedroom, and push her onto the bed. I put the chain of the handcuffs through the bed rails, put a cuff around each of her wrist, and tell her, "Remember, you could be dinner.". For some reason I like the fear on her face. I close her door, go to the kitchen, grab some cold bowls of child stew, and go to the teenager's bedroom. I quickly shake her awake.
She rubs her eyes, spots the soup, and thanks me. When we're done eating I put the bowls on the bedside table, scoot the teen over, and climb into bed beside her. She seems surprised by me climbing into bed with her (there's no way I'm sleeping with the doctor or on the couch), but she quickly wraps her arms around me. She leans up, kisses me on the cheek, and says, "Good night.". I smile and answer, "Good night.". I snuggle down beside the woman, wrapping my arms around her. It's hot as hell in the room, but I like the feel of another living body beside me. Makes me feel a little less alone in this desolate world. I'm close to snoozing when the teen leans over, and quickly pecks my lips. Seems she isn't that tired after all. I smile, shake my head, and once again try to go back to sleep. But after a few minutes she repeats the action, but holds it for a little longer. I have a good idea of what she's doing, but don't respond. She's a teenager, and she's discovered the joys of what kissing another person can do to her hormones. Now she just wants to test her boundaries, and see how long she can kiss me. If I was her age I would be kissing her as fast as I could (in all honesty probably trying to get a hand under her shirt), but I'm not. I'm a fifty-year old woman, and I like quite a few things more than I like kissing. Like sleep.
She kisses me once again, but I reach up and push her away. The teenager leaves me alone for a few minutes, but once again returns. I allow her one last kiss, then open my eyes and ask, "Isn't your leg hurting you?". She shakes her head and answers, "Strong painkillers, like the stuff they gave me when I got that infection. I won't feel it for a while.". Then, she resumes kissing me. When she pulls back I roll my eyes and tell her, "Sleep.". She scoffs and counters, "Kiss.". I kiss her back, but when we're done kissing I ask, "What's with the sudden kissing spree?". It's dark, but I can see her blush as she answers, "You've just done so much for me, and I haven't kissed you since Oklahoma.". I once again roll my eyes and explain to her, "You don't need to feel obligated to kiss me, now go to sleep.". I close my eyes, but the teenager is persistent. I almost groan when I feel her lips once again touch mine, but this time they don't move. I've never cursed my age before, but now I do. I'm extremely fit for my age, but this is the first time I'd truly prefer sleep over making out. However, the child remains persistent and I give in. She seems surprised when I kiss her back, but happily kisses me with more ferocity. I know I shouldn't be kissing her for a multitude of reasons, and for once I don't care. I killed, gutted, and ate some children. Kissing one isn't doing nearly as much harm.
She's clearly inexperienced in kissing, so I show her how. I twine my hands in her tangled hair and pull her closer, trapping her head in my hands. She allows me to dominate the kiss. I use my thumbs to press against her jaw bone, the teenager popping her mouth open. I slip my tongue into her mouth, the young woman completely taken back by the slippery muscle entering her mouth. She's obviously a little put off (I'm certain this custom is considered unclean in the cities), but allows me to keep going. After a while she seems to enjoy it, but I could just be imagining that. The first thing I notice about her mouth is the fact the inside of her bottom lip is little more than a bloody piece of meat, she obviously bites it frequently. The second thing is the fact her own tongue is lying in her mouth like a dead fish, the teenager completely unsure of what to do. I ignore her incompetence and show her what to do, slowly leading her through the motions. When she's gotten the hang of it I simply relax, enjoying something I haven't had in thirty years. Eventually I tire of kissing her (although that's after a while) and pull away, the teenager smirking. I chuckle and ask, "Sleep?". She nods and says, "Sleep.". I snuggle down, rest my head on my pillow, and go to sleep.
I'm woken up by the click of a gun. I reach into my bra, pull my knife from it, and wait. I see a shadow go over to the teenager, and see something put up to her head. I throw my knife without hesitation. The doctor dies and falls to the floor, grasping the knife sticking from her chest. Thankfully, the entire event was silent and the teenager sleeps on. I slide out of the woman's grip, crawl out of bed, and examine the body. The chains on her wrist are shattered, the gun in her hand is mine, and the knife is still sticking from her chest. Damn, that was faster than I thought. I was guessing it would be a week before she tried to kill me. It seems everyone that joins us dies within a few hours. I should be concerned, but I couldn't care less. As long as the teenager is alive I'm fine. I yank the knife from the doctor, silently drag her from the room, grab a rag, and wipe up the blood. I'll tell the teen that the doctor had to return to hospital. Or something like that. All I need is to get the teenager to believe it.
I'm about to throw the woman out the window when I realize something. More food. I drag the woman over to the butchering area and begin chopping, the sun slowly rising as I do. When she's cleaned and gutted I make her into stew. Finally, I pick up the bowls and head into the survivor's room, a smile on my face. She happily gulps down the soup, then questions me on the doctor. I lie and tell her, "She went back to the hospital. She says your leg will be better in six weeks.". She nods and goes back to eating. Suddenly, she asks me, "When are we leaving?". I choke on some child meat and ask, "What do you mean?". She looks confused and answers, "To Canada.". I hadn't even thought about going north. I quickly tell her, "You're hurt.". She counters, "We need to move.". We keep debating what to do, but finally I tell her, "Fine, I'll find a way to transport us. But for right now let's focus on healing.". She nods and says, "Agreed.". I nod and go back to eating, my mind racing.