Chapter 6

"He needs intravenous fluids—possibly a transfusion. He's already lost too much blood." He says.

"I can't do that for him!" I say.

"Then I suggest you get him to a hospital."

I glare back at him, "That's not exactly an option either.

"Well then you should probably be doing more to stop the bleeding." He says flatly.

"Like what?" I say.

He just sits there and shrugs his shoulders. Piece of shit doctor.

I get up from the dirt path and swing open the passenger door. The gun clicks and I force the barrel into his temple.

"Like what?!" I say.

"I don't know. I can't work with a gun in my head. It's quite distracting."

The color rushes from his skin as I push the gun further into him.

"Try harder."

"Did you put pressure on the wound?"

"You saw that I did."

"And did you elevate.."

"You know what I did! Tell me what I need to do."

"I don't know. I'd have to examine him—"

"Bull shit! You saw the whole thing! You put the bullet in him. What does he need?"

He hesitates for a moment and looks down at his hands tied together.

"Perhaps if you removed these I could irrigate and suture."

He holds up his attached hands to me as if he were pleading.

"That's not going to happen." I say.

He lowers his hands and shrugs, "Then I'm afraid I can't help you."

I lower my gun and slam the door to the car. I reach into the emergency kit and pull out a small pack of string with a tiny metal hook on the end. I kneel next to Phillip and attempt to steady my hand as I unwrap the pair of hemostats from the packaging.

There was something about the loops. That's all I can remember that from basic training. It was something about wrapping it one way a couple times then the other way a couple times.

Something like that.

I take a deep breath and clamp the metal hook with the hemostats. Again, I use my left hand to steady my shaky right hand as I poke the hook through his flesh.

"I wouldn't do it like that." Wyle calls out to me.

"You wouldn't do it all!" I say.

My hands continue to jitter as I force the metal hook through his skin. Finally, I see the shiny tip of the hook poking through the other side.

"You didn't irrigate. Even if you stop the bleeding he's going to get an infection and…"

"Shut up!" I say.

I turn back to Phillip and swallow hard. I unclamp the hemostats and reach for the tiny metal tip peaking through the other side of his skin. When I have a firm grasp on the hook I slowly attempt to pull the string through to the other side. I nearly have it across when the string rips straight through his skin leaving me with a long dangling string in my hand.

"Damn it!" I say.

I leave the sutures and hemostats on Phillip's slowly rising chest. I open the car door and reach for Wyle's tied hands.

"You've got five minutes." I say, untangling the knots around his wrist. "Get him stable. You run—you try anything funny—you get a bullet in the back. You understand?"

"And my legs." He says in that same bland tone from before.

I look down at the knots of rope Phillip tied around Wyle's ankles.

"I don't think so." I say.

"Then I can't help you."

I point my gun in his face, "I think you can."

"I can't help your boyfriend if you kill me now can I? It would be a shame such a shame, wouldn't it? For your child to grow up without a father."

The words force all the air from my chest, "How did you..?"

"You should get some stronger drugs. Those barely sedated me in the car."

I keep my gun where it belongs and kneel down to follow his orders. I untie the double knots Phillip made and let him loose.

"There" I say looking up at him, "You have fiv…"

A giant boot smashes into my jaw. I'm thrown back by the force into the dirt below me. I lay there, unable to move, feeling the warmth of my own blood trickling down my cheek, and watching those same boots run off into the woods.