"Cole," a voice called out from a distance
"Cole!" it was louder now, why did that voice sound so familiar?
"Cole! Now would be a great time for you to wake up," the voice cried again loudly, as if they were standing right beside to me.
Groaning groggily I slowly opened my eyes to see Lucas crouching next to the cot I had claimed as my bed. Well, that would explain it.
"Cole, I'm sorry to wake you up, but uhm, something's not right," he said.
Still half asleep it took me a moment to catch up. How long had I been asleep? I wonder if Lucas finished with the third patient …. crap. I finally registered that Lucas had mentioned there was a problem, problems in the medical field were never a good thing. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I looked over the cots.
"What's wrong Lucas?" I asked as I stood up, leaning from side to side to stretch the muscles in my back that ached from the stiffness of the cot. Not that I would complain, sleep was sleep.
Noticing that Lucas hadn't responded yet I made my way over to the third patient I had left to him who was resting soundly on his stomach. He looked to be the youngest of the three critically wounded, but I would have guessed him to be around my age. I quickly ran through a mental checklist as I scanned his body: bandages seemed clean and tight, there was no blood seepage, his breathing was steady and as I reached down to place my hand on his back his temperature was warm but not alarmingly high. There didn't seem to be a problem, confused I looked back towards Lucas and shot him a questioning glance.
"It's not him Cole," he answered. "It's this one."
Following his gaze I took a sharp breath in, it was the man I had worked on earlier before napping. Making my way towards his cot I chastised myself for not noticing it immediately when I had woken up. His body was coated with sweat that shone in the dim light the room offered. Crouching next to him I placed my hand carefully on his forehead. Hot, way to hot.
"When did this start?" I asked Lucas who was still standing on the other side of the cot.
"Maybe 20 minutes ago, it's hard to tell time in here," he answered hesitantly. "At first he was just groaning and I thought maybe he was just starting to feel the pain from the stitches, but it got worse."
I ran through each step I had done in my head, mentally looking for anywhere I could have messed up. Checking his body I huffed in frustration, all of the wounds looked fine. There was no puss or fluid, no raised edges or abnormal swelling that would indicate an infection - it didn't make sense.
"When did he stop groaning?" I asked Lucas.
"I woke you up as soon as I noticed it."
Well, that was as good of any news I was going to get. That would give me some time to figure out what was happening, though by his shallow breathing I knew it wouldn't be much.
"His blood." a voice groaned.
Turning quickly I looked towards the direction the voice had come from to see the man with the burns struggling to sit up. Did he just? He shouldn't even be awake yet. He shouldn't be moving yet!
Lucas regained his composure quicker than I did and rushed over to him, "You shouldn't try getting up just yet. Your wounds are too fresh, you need to rest if they are going to heal properly."
The man grunted in reply but did not move to lay back down. I wonder if all of these people down here are this stubborn?
"He's right you know," I called out as I walked towards the supply table to grab a canteen from one of the packs we took from the drop ship.
"Here," I offered as I moved closer to him, he moved to grab the canteen but I pulled it back slightly out of reach, causing him to glare. Aside from stubbornness, glaring also seemed to be one of their stronger traits. "Lay back down, I didn't spend all that time treating and wrapping your wounds just so you go and re-injure them."
Sighing he layed back down, and I allowed him to grab the canteen from my hands.
"Do you know what might be wrong with him? They said you are one of their healers," I asked softly, waiting until after he taken a few gulps of the water.
"His blood is bad," he answered shortly.
That didn't make sense.
"Do you mean septic?" I asked, but the blank stare I got back made me think that wasn't a term they used on the ground. I tried again.
"His blood is poisoned from the wound?"
The man nodded his head.
"No," I responded quickly. "I cleaned out every open cut, and cut away dead tissue before sewing them shut. The wounds are healing fine, if he was septic they would infected."
The man on the cot grunted.
It had to be something else. I racked my brain for all possible scenarios that would cause the symptoms that were presenting. Blood toxicity was the most likely, but I was sure I had sterilized everything, it just couldn't be. So if it wasn't something that was caused by me, and I was running on that assumption because I was certain I hadn't missed anything, then whatever was happening now existed before we had started to help him.
"Do you still have the shrapnel pieces we pulled from him," I asked Lucas quickly. He looked confused but nodded anyways and moved towards the table. I followed closely behind him.
"What are you thinking?" he asked as me he moved the wooden bowl from earlier over. "You don't think its…"
"No," I interrupted. "If he was septic there would be other symptoms, and that would mean that we had done something wrong. I've run through the procedure at least a dozen times in my head, and I can't find a single thing that we would have missed. So, if we didn't infect his blood, something else must have."
He nodded his head as I talked, trying to follow my train of thought.
"You're wrong, he'll die because of you," the man from the cot croaked.
No. I can't be wrong. The consequences are too high for me to be wrong right now.
"Hush healer," I snapped back. Startling Lucas who hadn't heard me speak in such a vicious tone.
There has to be something I'm missing. I picked up each of the pieces of shrapnel, examining them carefully looking for any indication of rust. Nothing. As I moved to put the largest piece back in the bowl the smell of something faintly sweet caught my nose. Curious.
I held the shard up and took a deeper breath in, it was faint but it was there. I grinned slightly before thrusting the piece out in front of Lucas' face. My sudden movement made him lean back slightly and I just ignored his confused expression.
"Smell it." I told him.
"Is this a joke? We don't really have time for this Cole," Lucas replied unsure. I just shook my head.
"Not a joke, really just do it." He moved his head in closer keeping his eyes trained on me.
"What do you smell?
"Uhm, blood," he answered. I groaned.
"Well obviously, but what else."
"Charred human flesh?"
Okay, note to self: never play guessing games with Lucas in the future, he's awful at them.
"Doesn't charred human flesh smell a bit sweet to you," I prodded.
Taking another whiff his eyes widened slightly in recognition. Finally.
"Kind of reminds you of engine coolant doesn't it?" He just nodded in response.
"These shards must have been from one of the fuel tanks," he guessed. "But Cole, even knowing what it is, how do we treat it?"
What a debbie downer I thought, though subconsciously recognizing he had a point. I doubt these people just had the antidote for anti-freeze poisoning just laying around.
"Alright, the toxin in engine coolant is ethylene glycol right?"
"Yeah, that sounds right," Lucas responded sheepishly. "But Chemistry was never my strongest field."
Me either I thought. But let's go with it, 10 years of chemistry class had to be lurking somewhere in my head.
"So if we don't have an antidote we need something that will counteract the poison instead. And the chemical compound that would neutralize glycol would be ... it would have to be ethanol right?"
Putting the pieces together in my head I realized there might still be a way to save the wounded, now dying, warrior.
He nodded again slowly, "but where are we going to find large quantities of ethanol gas?"
How innocent.
"Gas ins't the only form ethanol comes in," I said thinking back to a memory from a couple years ago. While the substance was considered a prohibited item back on the Arc, it was easy enough to find if you knew the right people and had the right things to trade for it.
I smirked turning my back to Lucas.
"Hey healer! Where do you keep the booze in this place?"
The healers eyes widened before resting in a harsh glare that I was starting to expect.
"That was a serious question, your friend over there is going to need to get wasted if you want him to live through the night."
He was silent for a moment, still studying me. I waited for him to respond, hoping his desire for one of his friends to survive would trump his distrust of me.
"Ask Indra for mushad, it's our strongest drink," he replied weakly, the weariness in his voice evident.
"Who's Indra?" Lucas asked from next to me. I just shrugged.
"Guess I'll go find out."
I was slower to exit the building this time, and prepared to duck if needed again. Instead of attacking the warrior just turned to face me, looking no friendlier than last time though.
"I need Indra."
"Why," he replied, clearly content to be as unhelpful as possible.
"Because." I could be as equally stubborn I thought, my pride swelling before I instantly felt bad. I didn't have time to waste if I was going to save the man's life.
"Why," he repeated. I sighed and decided to be the bigger man, figuratively.
"Because your healer told me to."
"Niko is awake?" the dark skinned woman from earlier asked, again appearing seemingly out of the shadows.
"If by Michael you mean your healer than yes, and I need to find Indra," I responded.
"Ni-ko', not Michale," she hissed back, correcting my pronunciation. "And I am Indra."
Well that makes things a bit simpler.
"I need some mooshat," I told her. Her nose twitched as I asked, but even I was aware enough to know that I had butchered the name of their drink.
"Why?"
"To finish healing one of your people," I explained, growing tired of the game of 20 questions we were playing. She opened her mouth to say something else, but I continued before she could.
"If I'm right then this will save his life, just trust me."
Seeing her distrust I quickly added on, "I haven't given you a reason not to yet, can't that just be good enough for right now?"
She took a moment to think it over before nodding to one of the men closest to her. He made his way off into a nearby building and quickly returned holding a large glass canister. Handing it to me I nearly dropped it, surprised by the weight of the jar. It was as large as one of the tubs Dr. Griffin used to keep her coffee grounds in, and as I unscrewed the cap I noticed it smelled just as potent. Good.
Saying nothing I made my way back inside the building. Placing it down on the table I looked over to Lucas who was placing a wet rag on the sick man's forehead, he was getting worse.
"Think that will work?" he called out. Grabbing an empty canteen I pushed the nozzle down into the jar and let it collect the liquid. Once it was full I hesitantly brought it up to my lips before taking a small sip. I coughed a bit as I swallowed, feeling it burn the whole way down my throat. Yup, definitely alcohol and definitely strong enough.
"Yeah I think so," I coughed back.
I made my way over next to Lucas, kneeling alongside the cot. Helping me, Lucas tilted the mans head forward slightly as I poured the liquid into his mouth. I covered his mouth and nose to force him to swallow it. We repeated the steps a few more times until I felt the canteen get noticeably lighter.
"Well all we can do now is wait," I said, leaning back against the cot behind me. Lucas fell into place next to me. I took a swig of what was left in the canteen before passing it to Lucas who looked at it hesitantly. I pushed it closer to him and he reluctantly accepted and took a small sip, coughing much like I had the first time.
"Cheers to us," I muttered quietly as he passed the canteen back. "Let's hope this worked."