The Sole Survivors' Club

Chapter 11

Monica sat on the edge of the tub while Carl unpacked a bag of medical supplies. “You were planning to go exploring either way.”

“Yeah,” Carl agreed as he pulled on a pair of vinyl gloves. “I might not be able to hurt my enemy yet, but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep tabs on what he’s been up to.”

“Are they always males?” Monica asked. “How do they reproduce?”

“You’ll probably see some of the jinniyah during our trip outside. I can’t speak for certain about your group, but the jinn I was following were all males.”

“Why?”

Carl shrugged, moving to arrange a set of sealed gauze pads and plastic-wrapped catheters down on rim of the tub. “I don’t know. Maybe being evil, they’re also chauvinistic?”

Monica laughed. “What?”

“Sure, the evil jinn probably think all jinniyah should be barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen.”

Monica shook her head. “But all jinn are barefoot, and I don’t think they cook meals.”

Snorting, Carl nodded. “True. Aside from that theory, I’ve got nothing. Maybe you can try asking someone once we see them, but—”

“Pass,” Monica said.

Carl sat down on the rim of the tub and tore open an alcohol wipe. “Just remember to keep looking at me after shock sets in, okay? If you panic, the jinn will be encouraged to try something.”

“Got it.” Monica watched Carl wipe the skin in the crook of her elbow. “Hey, Carl?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For sticking you?” Carl teased.

“No, for coming—ah!” Monica glanced down, but found she preferred to look at Carl rather than watch her blood drain into a pitcher. “You could have warned me.”

“No, that only makes it hurt worse. If you think it sucks for you, keep in mind I’m sticking myself.”

Monica wanted to comment, but her heart began to beat erratically. At the corners of her vision, spots were floating, and she heard a faint whooshing sound that muffled her hearing.

Carl rested a piece of gauze over the catheter before he slid the tube out. He took her other hand and instructed, “Just push here.” He set a strip of medical tape to secure the gauze. “How do you feel?”

“Woozy.”

Carl nodded. “Yeah, walking will be hard for the first few minutes. Right, my turn.”

He was more brisk sticking himself, and after the catheter was inserted, he began to squeeze and release his hand to speed up the flow of blood.

He let go of the catheter to grab a gauze pad, applying it over the end of the catheter. Then, with a move which seemed complicated to Monica, he held the pad down with his index finger while he used his middle finger and thumb to pull out the catheter. He let it fall into the tub and folded his arm over the pad before glancing around the bathroom.

Getting up to drain the pitcher into the toilet, he still held one arm at an angle. He leaned around Monica and set the pitcher in the tub before turning on the tap to rinse it out. Within two minutes, he had the entire mess cleaned.

Monica stared at him blankly, trying to follow his activities around the bathroom in spite of the hazy motion trails following him.

Then he went to the sink, and she saw the hyena sitting by the door. “Carl?”