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AFTER MANY OF the hours dragging on, Samantha finally came across a building. It was rundown and overrun with weeds and nature, the rusty playground sets making her come to the conclusion that it was an old daycare center.
The bleeding from the bullet wound continued as did the pain, her body gradually weakening every minute that passed by. The pressure from her hand wasn't enough, and her arm was starting to ache from holding it up.
There had to be something in there, maybe a first aid kit.
With her sword ready, Samantha mustered any strength left and climbed through the broken window. Toys fell to the ground, the sight of the baby cribs making her pause and her breath quicken, but each breath that heaved her chest was painful.
She thought about Carl and the unborn baby in Lori's womb.
Its probably born by now She corrected herself, wondering about the gender of the newborn. It reminded her how much time has passed and how much she would have to make up for it.
The whole room was filled with ancient looking artifacts that had once been touched by children. It was haunting, almost like she had stepped into a graveyard of what was.
She averted her gaze and peeked out into the hallway. Surprisingly it was cleaner than the room but she didn't linger on it for long. Samantha kept her mind on the goal; the nurse's office.
Where there was a daycare, there was always a place for the nurse.
Samantha continued down the hall, the silence making her on edge. The grip on her sword tightened, the pain in her chest making her movements more rushed. She needed to hurry.
Finally she saw the sign: The Nurse's Office and she raced in, putting her sword on the counter and ripping through cabinets. The familiar thick red cross caught her eye, and she pulled out the kit.
Samantha was quick, remembering her high school's First Responders class and trying to keep that in mind as she pulled out items. After everything was set in front of her, she pulled off her clothing articles.
The entry wound was a few inches upward from her right breast. She couldn't feel the warmth of her exit wound, but she suspected it wasn't as bad as the gaping mess of the one she could see.
Did I even have an exit wound?
Dread filled her belly when she's come to the conclusion that the bullet didn't in fact leave her body. It was still in there, and she hoped and prayed it hadn't broken into fragments like it had done with Carl.
