Quinn lowered the rifle enough to illuminate the man’s legs.
His left foot ended in a ragged stump that oozed blood into a broad pool. As Quinn watched, the man’s arm slumped to his side, and his eyes rolled up into his head.
~
They ate a cold dinner of cheese and sliced sausages along with several cans of beer they’d taken from an open container. They sat in a semicircle on the floor, Denver lying between Ty and Alice on his side, soaking in the coolness of the concrete. Quinn kept glancing over at the man’s prone form, his head resting on a rolled up blanket, leg elevated and secured on a steel chair they’d found in the front office.
After the man passed out, Quinn had seen he’d been holding a makeshift tourniquet with his free hand, and without the pressure, the stump began to bleed freely again. He’d retied the bootlace the man had used, staunching the flow to almost nothing, before running outside to direct Alice to the rear loading dock. Once they were all inside, they’d repositioned the injured man and poured a small amount of water in his mouth that he managed to swallow. After that, he’d become completely unresponsive, the rising and falling of his chest the only movement.
They’d found a stockpile of food, weapons, and ammunition in one of the offices along with a meager first aid kit that had already been pilfered of anything useful. A hiking backpack leaned against one wall near the food and weapons, its many pouches bulging with enough supplies to keep a single person going for more than two weeks.
Alice drained the last of her beer and set the can aside before motioning to the man. “What do you think happened to his foot?”
Quinn glanced at Ty and then back to her, lowering his voice. “I think it was bitten off.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah. Looked like teeth marks in the flesh around the wound. Not that you can really tell since infection’s already setting in.”
“He’s not going to make it,” she said.
“No, I don’t think so.”
They cleaned up their wrappers and cans and checked on the man again. His face was pale and dry, but when Quinn put a hand to the man’s forehead, he nearly yanked it back with shock.
“He’s burning up.”
They tried drizzling more water in the man’s mouth, but he merely coughed it back out. His breathing began to take on a liquid wheezing, so they let him be and made their own beds up for the night.
“You think one of us has to keep watch?” Alice said, tucking Ty into a sleeping bag.
“I think it’s okay if we all sleep tonight. This place is locked down really well. Any problems and we can scoot right out the door and into the car.”
They were quiet for a time as they lay down on their own blankets. The darkness around them was complete.
“Wonder what he was doing here,” Alice said finally.
“Surviving, like the rest of us.”
“Almost looks like he was planning something.”
“Like what?” Quinn asked.
“Like a trip.”
He listened to the man’s labored breathing a dozen yards away. That could be any of them lying there, wounded, dying. How would it feel to know beyond any doubt that you were going to die? The idea was one thing, but the fear, the fear was all encompassing.
“This fort-bed thing is getting kind of old,” Alice said, breaking the silence.
Quinn chuckled, and she laughed too after a moment.
“I can’t believe we made it,” Alice said.
“Me neither.”
“Not really what you would’ve picked for your first road trip, huh?”
He smiled. “It’s not what I had in mind, no.”
She was quiet for a long time. “Thank you for everything you did to get us here.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for saving my life a hundred times.”
“Ditto.” Her blankets rustled, and he imagined her turning toward him in the dark. “What if there’s no army there tomorrow?”
The question caught him off guard. Not because he’d never thought it but because he’d been thinking it for days.