The guys clear out the hallway as I run into it, and we find an emergency room. I lay Nova on the bed and ignore the bloodstains in the room. Turning on the light, I take the IV stand and roll it over, then put the needle into Nova's arm. She looks at me with a sad gleam in her eyes and I feel her head. Burning fever.
"Nova? Nova, can you hear me?" I ask and she nods slowly, a thin line of blood escaping her mouth and rolling down the side of her face.
"Tyson," she mutters and coughs, leaving blood splattered on her face. It's a murky red, and I wipe a tear from my cheek.
Rummaging through the cabinets, I find gloves and a surgeon cape. Putting both on I root through the drawers and grab a tray and some surgeon tools, along with wound cleaning liquids, gauze, and bandage wrap. Hurrying back over to Nova, I feel her head again to find it somehow warmer than the first time I checked.
Grabbing a towel from the bottom of the bed, I wipe the blood off of her arm and look for the bite mark, but find none.
"That's... that's not it," she says and I look at her. She coughs again, and I wipe the blood off her face, then the sweat.
"What?" I ask softly.
"I wasn't... *coughs* I wasn't bitten, Nash. Tyson accidentally shot me as he was taking care of the Morts. He was bitten, so once he made sure there were no Morts left that could hurt me, he ran away, furth- *coughs* further into the hospital. I heard a... *coughs* a gunshot go off somewhere, but I didn't know what direction," she says and finishes with a cough.
"Where were you shot?" I ask and she nods to her hip.
I raise her shirt a bit and nearly gag. There's so much blood, and if she dies, she'll immediately turn... I put a towel on it, but the towel is soaked through much too soon. Cursing under my breath, I look over at Tucker and Freddie. Tucker is holding the door closed with his shoulder in case any Morts decide to pay us a surprise visit, and Freddie is next to him, holding the door, too, but locking eyes with me, face a mask of worry.
"Freddie, look for painkillers and any sort of light anesthesia," I command and he nods, starting to root through everything. "Also get me a clean, wet towel... and hurry."
He soon hands me a syringe and two plastic bottles, one larger than the other. I open the first one to find pills, so I read the serving amount for different ages, look at Nova, and then back to the bottle. Three pills is the serving amount for adults, so I get four and give to her, just in case, then open the other bottle to find a syringe cap, so I stick the syringe in it and read what it is. Anesthesia, power two. That'll be a bit too strong, but I can work with it. I get three-fourths of what it says I should and plunge the needle into her arm, then go back to the bleeding bullet wound, sticking the wet towel on it and cleaning around it.
"Get as hot of water as you can and put it on this tray. Make the tray as hot as possible, and then hand it back to me asap," I say, then take my phone from my gun holster (where I keep both it and my gun, and yes, it is a tight fit, but it works), and use the flashlight on the wound. "Tucker, find something to barricade that door up and then come help me."
At this point, you must be wondering where I know all this from. Well, partially because my mom is- was a surgeon and taught me what to do in some cases ever since I was thirteen and decided I wanted to be a doctor. The other part is because when I did, well, not terribly, but not the best either, in Freshman year, I decided I needed to work hard, and so I was working hard through Sophomore year, and was studying a bit of medicine because I was going to go into pre-nursing at the college in my Junior and Senior year, for college credit plus. Yeah... all that and med shows on TV and Netflix.
Tucker does something with the door (I don't know because I'm focused on saving my friend), and rushes to my side. He takes my phone and puts it so that it can shine down on the wound no matter what, then looks at me, waiting for instructions.
"Hold the sides of the wound open until I get the bullet out, then let it go closed as soon as it's out, got it?" I ask and he nods.
After I get the bullet out, I make sure the wound is clean and then press the red-hot tray onto it.
Nova sits up, screaming in pain and a sick sizzling sound comes from the wound. Tucker holds her down as I press another wet towel to the now-red wound.
"Get me antibiotics and more painkillers, now!" I order to Freddie, and he does.
Nova slowly stops struggling as I clean her wound and press the wet towel to it again. I check her forehead to find it cooling, but still warm. Attaching the heart monitor to her and plugging it in, I see that her heart rate is lower than it should be, and press a wet towel to her forehead.
"Anything else?" Freddie and Tucker ask at the same time, but they don't even care.
"Are we out of towels?" I ask and Freddie looks at Nova's forehead.
"Yeah, that was the last one," he answers and I sigh.
"Alright, go explore more halls, see what you find. I'll monitor Nova, just take care of any other Morts and tell me if you find any ambulances, other than that, please don't die, and have each others' backs," I say and they nod slowly, knowing that I just need right now to catch my breath and have alone time.
As soon as they're gone, I open the blinds and let the early morning, dim sunlight stream in. I step back over to Nova and check her heart rate, then temperature, and then wound again, but find nothing has changed. Walking back to the window, I look down at the street below us, thankful that this is the second story, and watch the Morts shuffle back into the street.
Sighing, I think back to life before, and how I should've been more thankful for everything.
But now, I have to get back to my parents and younger sister...
YOU ARE READING
Survival Inc.
خيال علميNash was looking forward to graduation. She was in Sophomore year, sure, but she was working hard, and was excited for the finish. In fact, she was at school when it happened. It. Not as in the freaky clown that those good scary movies are based on...
