|
|
Post by redhavoc on Oct 7, 2011 0:23:53 GMT -5
*Max's voice clears my mind a little and I slap the side of the desk with my hand. The cheap metal produces a low ringing sound and I hope Max understands I'm trying to tell him I'm fine, or at least alive. I slowly get up, clutching my side, and make my way over to the door. I have to scrape my feet along the floor to keep from tripping over the knives, as I seem to have lost all the energy I had a moment ago. Somehow I manage to pick up my flashlight and gun and I shove them through the hole. The light from the other side reveals that my hands are red from holding my side. I look at them curiously for a second before getting on the ground myself and attempting to squeeze through the grenade-blasted area*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Oct 7, 2011 0:32:28 GMT -5
*I'm relieved to hear Red's response, and push her flashlight and gun to the side when they appear. Anticipating the difficulty she has getting through the opening, I help pull her through. I do my best to keep the jagged edges from tearing at her, but when I get her out my hands are bloody; partly from her reopened wounds and partly from the new cuts on the backs of my hands.*
*She looks exhausted, so I pocket both flashlights and her gun and pick her up. She'd have warned me before now if there was anyone else in the room, but I ask to be sure.* You're the only one?
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Oct 7, 2011 1:08:11 GMT -5
*I nod, Max's face going fuzzy. I point to my clothes and his. Now both of them are partially covered in blood and grime. We really should find new ones... A part of me does not want to hinder Max and I try to get down, but his arms are too strong. Besides, the ground looks really far away...*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Oct 7, 2011 1:15:20 GMT -5
Yes. We're rather a mess now, aren't we? *I carry her back to the ground floor, setting her down against the wall in a side room and crouching down to make eye contact and confirm she's conscious* Stay here. Stay awake. I'll be back.
*Returning to the upper floor, I quickly go from room to room, being extra cautious. There don't seem to be any other traps, though, which is what I assume the previous situation was. In the very last room at the end of the hall I find a stack of old mattresses and blankets, along with a pile of clothing and medical supplies. Several of the mattresses have been slashed open, but I take a med kit, a relatively clean blanket, and several sets of clothing that the killjoys apparently used to blend in with civilians, and go back downstairs, dragging along the most intact mattress I could find.*
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Oct 7, 2011 1:23:20 GMT -5
*I watch Max go, barely aware of anything but the throbbing of my side. I am already tired of this injury that saps my energy and bleeds all the time. I want to be strong again. The killjoy song plays in my head, words jumbling together*
*Max comes down the stairs with supplies and I'll I can do is wait. Wait and not sleep....*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Oct 7, 2011 1:32:01 GMT -5
*Dropping the mattress in the corner of the room, I sit down in front of Red with the medical kit and unwrap her bloody bandages. It looks like she was treated professionally, but the stitching has torn in several places. Checking the contents of the first aid kit, I look up at Red* No pain pills. Should I get some from the car?
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Oct 7, 2011 1:37:58 GMT -5
*I reach into my pocket and pull out a tube of pain pills I had pulled out of the back earlier. I smile up at him. In my pain-drenched brain Max is my hero, my protector, although I don't know if I'd ever tell him. I look down. The wound looks pretty gruesome and I have a hard time believing that is really connected to me*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Oct 7, 2011 1:46:30 GMT -5
Good. You'll want to take a few. *I wait until she does so, and then thread a needle after rubbing it with disinfectant. I keep my work minimal, only adding stitches where they're absolutely necessary. I may be trained in first aid for the field, but I'm no doctor. I talk to her as I work and clean up afterwards, my words not so much a reassurance as a result of my memories of the endless hours spent in sterile white operating rooms. I don't even fully realize I'm speaking*
I don't have any ice, so we'll have to hope there's no swelling. The worst of the bleeding has stopped. You should be fine with some rest but don't try to stand up or move around much.
*I wrap the wound as best I can with the bandages in the kit, then help Red out of the oversized medical shirt she got at the safehouse in Oregon, replacing it with one of the smaller civilian shirts I found upstairs. It's still too big for her, but at least it won't pull at the stitching.*
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Oct 7, 2011 1:55:25 GMT -5
*I look down at the shirt. It's blue with a big yellow star in the middle. The pain meds make it sparkle. I look up at Max and smile sleepily, patting his shoulder in an uncoordinated fashion. The stitching really didn't hurt that much, not as bad as the first time. Then I point to the clothing, telling him to change as well. There's a darkening red area in the middle of his chest where he was carrying me*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Oct 7, 2011 19:42:05 GMT -5
I will, in a few minutes. *I pick her up one more time, carrying her to the mattress* You're in a corner. Only way in is there. *I nod towards the door on the far wall* I'll be between you and the door. Get some sleep.
*I stand back up, moving closer to the doorway and choosing a white long-sleeved shirt from the pile of clothing. I knew my jacket was ruined, but I was hoping the blood hadn't soaked through to my undershirt. Turning my back to Red, I switch shirts as quickly as possible, almost self-conscious*
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Oct 7, 2011 20:13:20 GMT -5
*Through my heavy eyelids I see Max's back for a split-second. It is a criss-cross of scars. I don't think too much about it, too tired to really properly think anything through. I'm a little cold, but it doesn't matter, the old mattress feels softer than it probably is. I start awake a few times, thinking about the ceiling of knives, but I finnally manage to drift off*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Oct 7, 2011 20:20:51 GMT -5
*The rest of the night passes slowly; I keep an eye on Red to make sure she keeps breathing, and don't hear any noises in the building or outside. It takes slightly more effort than normal, but I manage to clear my mind after a few minutes, sitting motionless until a faint glow under the door shows that the dawn is beginning to light the main open area of the warehouse*
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Oct 7, 2011 21:13:43 GMT -5
*I wake up shivering, images of Wilson clawing at my mind. I try to flip over, but my body has metabolized all the pain pills and my side protests to the movement. I think I'm back at BLI for a second and I start when I see a drac mask, but then I realize its only Max and relax. A spider moves in the doorway iilluminated by morning light , preparing her web for another day*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Oct 7, 2011 23:56:55 GMT -5
*I stand up when Red wakes, and go over to her* Are you stable? I can bring food.
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Oct 8, 2011 0:10:29 GMT -5
*I blink at Max, still waking up, and slowly nod. I realize I'm starving. In order to see Max better, I try to get into a sitting position*
|
|
Yes, I'm still running - sort of. But it is lonely out here. Haven't seen anyone else for a while.
//