The Complex: (The Reanimates) (27 page)

             
Tanya burst in the door to check on her son, Trisha right behind her. I refocused on the wound trying so hard to strip the image of that little blonde haired boy running to safety from my brain. I pulled on the blue nitrile gloves and I grabbed the scissors that I had set up next to the table a few weeks ago. I was rather proud of that idea for a second as I cut the shirt from his body. His right shoulder looked like ground beef. The bullet tore a gaping hole into him that blood flowed from. Tanya cried out at the sight of the wound. As I tore open the packages of gauze that I had set up I yelled out, “Tanya! Go to your area. We got this.” Trisha grabbed her mom's arm and directed her out. I was so proud of her holding it together and helping her mom. She closed the door behind her and looked at me, eyes asking me what she was supposed to do now. “Crap load of gauze and pressure tape to start with.” I directed. She ran to the drawers that had the supplies and grabbed handfuls of the gauze. After I opened the sterile packaging I packed the wound with them and pulled off long strips of the pressure tape. Every time I used the pressure tape I was reminded how cool this stuff was. It was foam based and stretched very nicely. When you put it on you pulled at it a hair. When you let go it contracted back holding pressure to what it clung to. I was flying in autopilot by this point, feeling immense thankfulness that I had been part of stopping several femoral bleeds that had come to my unit from their heart procedures that were done in the cath lab. Being able to rely on the experiences from dealing with arterial bleeds made staunching the flow of blood from the shoulder much less intimidating.

             
I stole a glance out the window, grateful that I had left the blinds open accidentally the last time I was in there to save electricity, because now I was able to see what was going on. Joey fired his gun several times and I heard the groan of someone followed by another shot that silenced it. I saw marauders run past as I yelled to Trisha to get down before they saw us.

             
I was terrified. I peeked back up to see if they were still there and was grateful that they had kept going. I heard glass breaking over by the food unit and more gunfire. I stood up to check on DaWayne's wound. It was still bleeding. I knew that bullet was keeping the hole open. I was scared. I was a heart nurse, not a surgeon, what if I wrecked his shoulder when I pulled it out? I didn't have the slightest clue how to properly remove a bullet but I had to do something. I had several hemostats that I collected from the hospital at some point or another. I had used them in that past life long ago to hold tape clamped to my scrubs. I kept them as part of my uniform mostly as the tape holder but they also came in handy in regards to chest tube clamping. I poured rubbing alcohol over the nose of them and as I did I asked Trisha to grab the morphine and a syringe. When she returned with them I drew up the dose from the vial, thanking god again for our pharmacy run those months ago, and put pressure on his left arm with my forearm to make a vein stand out. I put the needle into a lovely sized vein, drew back on the plunger to prove that I was in a vessel instead of muscle, and when I got a little bit of blood return I smiled at my success as I pushed the morphine into him. I knew it wasn't going to make removing his bullet pain free, but I wanted to try to take the edge off.

             
“DaWayne? Baby, this is going to hurt. I want you to hold on to Trisha real good OK?” It was only fair to warn him. I poured betadine in the hole and put the hemostats in. He groaned loudly. I found the bullet quickly and pulled it out. I almost cried myself when I pulled it out. It was intact, definitely misshapen but it was in one piece. My feeling of relief was overwhelming. I put fresh gauze on the wound and had Trisha hold pressure for a bit. I had a suture kit in a cupboard in the bathroom. I needed to walk away for a second so by having Trisha hold the gauze I could go get it and breathe. Once she had pressure in the right spot I peeled the bloody gloves off my hands and left to get the kit. I took a couple deep breaths and went back out there.

             
I opened everything up and pulled the needle from the packaging. Suture kits come with the needle already attached to the thread and I started to sew the wound shut. Finally I set the final stitch in the wound and it appeared to be holding well. I apologized to DaWayne and explained I had no experience doing this and that scar was going to look like crap. He laughed a little and said chicks love scars. I smiled.

             
I stole a glance back up out the window having thought I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. I was terrified to see a marauder running to the medical unit. I had a bit of panic for a second before the man's head seemed to explode in front of the window, splattering blood on the glass. He fell to the ground and I saw Daniel standing right behind where the man was. He looked at me with a look of triumph. I could see Trent just past him smiling like a loon.

             
While we all were standing looking at each other with a feeling like we are doing well, like we may actually make it out of this, Alexus came out of the shadows.

Our Losses and Gain

             
Daniel never even heard her coming, or at least that is what I chose to believe. When she stepped out of the shadows of the building her face was contorted in an insane grimace, absolute malice carried through to every feature. It was no real surprise when she pulled out a gun, aimed it at Daniel's head and fired a shot. Just that one loud crack of a shot was enough to suspend time for the briefest of moments. Everything moved slowly, like watching a car spin out in front of you as you watch the car collide into a light pole. There was nothing that could be done to stop the actions, it had to be played out and endured. Daniel crumpled to the ground in a heap. Trent ran to his friend and put both hands over the wound as though it would stop the blood from coming out and magically make it better. Trent looked at me through haunted eyes in anguish. Horror and sadness etched deep into all the lines on his face, an acid of hurt carving those lines deeper into him. I have never seen my husband look like that before. Alexus was standing near them laughing. The sound was so far away, so removed from our experience. It did not belong in the scene. Joey saw that Trent was on the ground over someone and came to investigate what happened, his gun was still in his hand. It took Joey mere seconds to realize what had to have occurred, and only a second more to figure out who had to have been the gunman. He pulled his gun and fired a single shot into that horrible laughing face, wiping it off of her in a near literal fashion.

             
I never thought I would be glad to watch a human being die but I felt vindication and joy when she fell to the ground, dead. I opened up the sliding glass door, grateful as hell that we had pulled out the patio wood to secure the upstairs as it cleared up the obstruction to getting to Trent and Daniel.

             
“Cali.” Trent was looking at me, his eyes pleading with me. “Please. Cali, please.”

             
What do you say to someone in a situation like this? Why didn't they talk about things like this in nursing school? I put my hand out, felt for a pulse, and felt nothing. “Oh Trent.” He stood up quickly and yelled in hurt. Daniel was our friend. He and Trent had prepped for the end of the world together. Every protected patio was courtesy of those two working together. Trent and Daniel worked together every day for the last eight months. They joked together and confided in things with each. This was killing him.

             
Joey pulled Trent back over and said, “Guys, I know this hurts but we need to cut bait and run now.” I looked at him with a face that asked what was he talking about. “We have to load the trailer and go. The complex is not secure now.”

             
“What do you mean? We've shot up a ton of those guys. We have to be winning!” Trent asked. He was angry about the loss of his friend and now the loss of his home.

             
“They didn’t come over the back wall like we thought they would. They came in the front. They have a few buddies there that are ripping down a chunk of the wall. There are so many zombies out there because of all the noise of tonight that the trench is not going to hold for a whole lot longer. We are not going to be safe here. The food unit is trashed, so is the water. There is nothing here left to defend, and there won't be anymore of us if we don’t roll out now.” Just then we caught a flicker of flame come from Martha's place.

             
“Did she get to her point? Oh god is she up there?” I was getting a little hysterical as all the stress slammed into me. Joey and Trent took off at a run to her place, went in, then came running back without her.

             
“She's dead. Looks like she knocked over an oil lamp after she got shot.” Joey reported.

             
“Get everyone to the truck.” Trent and I said at the same time. We had no food, we had no water, and now we had a fire that we were not going to be able to put out, not to mention the wall being ripped up. People were dying. No place was worth all of this. The marauders could have it.

             
Joey took off in a run. Trent and I rushed inside medical and I told Trisha and DaWayne, “Guys, we have to go. DaWayne? Baby you gotta sit up now. I know you're woozy as hell right now but its time.” Trent pulled DaWayne up and Trisha helped to steady him. I ran to the cupboards and used every last remaining space on my backpack to fill with pain medications and syringes. “Trisha? Help me.” She came running over to me. “Do you have any space in your backpack?” She looked at me confused like for a second until she remembered that she had a backpack strapped to her and nodded yes. “I need to stash antibiotics alright?” She nodded and turned around. I unzipped her and filled it up with the various pill bottles.

             
We both heard the reverse alert sound coming from the truck so we decided to run. I pulled my Luger out of my waistband and said “Let's go. It's time to run to the safe zone. We ran to the door and started to beat on it. “Jody! Mercedes!” I screamed. “Open up!”

             
Anna opened the door for us and asked, “Is it time? Do we have to go?” I nodded. She grabbed her bag that was next to the door and said, “Don't forget to get me out of that car.” I assured her that she wouldn't be left and she ran to get the bridge down.

             
Joey had gotten the truck going and jumped out of the cab to open the door to the trailer. He told Trent to get behind the wheel. We gathered all the kids and started moving them out to the trailer when I realized Jody wasn't right there. I went to the back room to get her I found her squatting in pain. “Jody? What is it?”

             
“Oh I think I've managed to scare the baby into coming now.” She said with gritted teeth. She was having a hard time talking through the pain. It was probably a real contraction. I groaned. This night had gone from bad to worse. She was right at 35 weeks pregnant so this baby was going to be a little premature, but at 35 weeks there shouldn't be too many complications. Joey came in to find out what the hold up was to see her hurting.

             
“Aww love. Go figure, huh? Well, we'll have a good story to tell the baby about its birth, won't we?” He said softly. He picked her up and we both walked out with her. He put her in the truck, barely getting her inside when bullets started to whiz around us. The kids were all safe inside, huddled into a scared mass in the front of the trailer. Tyreese and Tanya came running up. Joey yelled, “Hurry up y'all! Your kids are in the truck. Go! Go!”

             
Trent was in the driver's seat while we loaded the last of the stragglers.

             
Joey helped Tyreese and Tanya into the trailer and jumped up on the bumper to grab the pull strap that ran the roll up door down.

             
That’s when a bullet hit him square in the chest.

             
Jody screamed at the top of her lungs as she saw the blood blossom around the wound. He coughed and blood misted out of his mouth. She started to get up when another contraction ripped through her forcing her back down.

             
I jumped through the opening that remained to get him. When I got down there he gurgled at me. A harsh bloody breath was drawn through him and it clearly hurt. “No.” He sputtered out.”Go. Please.” He gasped. He was drowning in his own blood. He put his hand on his chest and drew back a very bloody hand. He looked at it with a look of fascination. He wiped it off on his shirt, put his hand in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Figured. This. Would. Happen.” He handed me the note with the name Jody written on it, leaving bloody fingerprints on the paper. “Here. Please give it to her.” Joey said in a barely audible whisper. He groaned and said “Go!” His eyes glassed over and that horrible gurgle filled breathing stopped.

             
I had tears pouring down my face when I got in the trailer and pulled the door down the rest of the way. I walked up the trailer, banged hard on the separating wall and yelled “Trent! Go!” The truck lurched forward, bounced off a curb, and jerkily moved though the gears. Jody sobbed.

             
Drew jumped into my arms clinging to me for a moment and I to him. My emotions were raw. Something about this little boy warmth made things feel so much more manageable. I found it in myself to be strong again, if for no other reason than Drew needed his mom.