“So what did you do when you were a real EMT?” he asked.
I let out my breath in a heavy exhale. Everyone wants something today. Back in Elderwood, Dax had largely been safe in processing; all this gruesome shit was new and horrifying to him. “I drove the ambulance, mostly, and assisted the paramedic,” I said. “I saw some gross stuff, but not like this. Not this…constant cataloguing.”
He tucked his hands into his pockets. “You seem good at it.”
I wasn’t entirely sure he meant that as a compliment.
“Would you rather be back in the brig?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’d rather be there than deciding people’s fates.”
“You’re not. You’re cleaning out bedpans.”
He stared down at the ground, an angry flush creeping into his cheeks. “I meant you.”
Ouch. That hit a bit too close to home.
“I’m not deciding anyone’s fate, either. I’m making it easier to assign them to a specific doctor.” Oh, what a wicked liar the endtimes made of me. “If they’ve got someone skilled in internal medicine, I’d rather have him treating the girl with the virus and leave the ER doc to handle the broken bones.”
Dax studied me intensely for a moment, then looked away. “Whatever you say. Here comes our conquering hero.”
From a distance, Tony’s limp looked more like a swagger. I watched him come toward us, a smile on his face and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked when he stopped in front of us. “Smoking’s bad for you.”
“Keeps the lungs warm,” he said.
“Gives you cancer,” Dax said.
Tony pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and blew out several wisps of smoke. “Out of all the things I’m worried about right now, smoking enough to give me cancer is pretty low on the list.”
I was sorry I’d brought it up. “Can we go home?” I asked, eager for a less volatile subject. “I need a long shower.”
“Vibby, there’s not a long enough shower in the world for you.” He jerked his head to the left and started off in that direction, and after a moment Dax and I followed him. The gray sky overhead continued to deepen in color, indicating the sun was setting. Maybe it was five o’clock.
“So, Commander,” Dax said, “can you get me switched to other duties yet? Triage doesn’t agree with me.”
“Triage doesn’t agree with anyone, but they’re already full up on processing, and I figured you didn’t want guard duty.” Tony puffed away on the cigarette. “Why? Was it real bad today?”
I glanced down at my blood-splattered sleeves. “No, I threw this stuff on to blend in.”
“Is Evie okay?” Dax asked. “I didn’t get a chance to walk her. I was too busy mopping up old blood.”
“Ooh, you had to do your job.” I almost shoved him, but kept my hands to myself. “Cry me a river.”
“Kids!” Tony seemed perplexed by our irritation with each other. “I let her out before I came to get you guys.”
We reached our house in good order. Before the key had even finished turning in the lock, I heard the scampering sounds of paws against wood. As soon as the door swung open, the squirming bundle of golden fur leaped onto Dax first, then me, then Dax again. She raced around our legs, her tail batting hard enough to make me stumble. “Easy, puppy!” Dax laughed, crouching down to fling his arms around her. She whimpered, and her tail thumped against the doorframe. “See, we’re back.”
“She was sitting by the window today when I came home. I figured she was waiting for you guys.” Tony reached down and rubbed the furry head. “Though if you filthy goons keep petting her, she’s going to need another bath.”
The idea of Tony wrestling our very strong dog into a bathtub made me smile. I waited until she’d finished with Dax, then accepted my share of the hugs and kisses and long brown strands of fur.
Something cool touched my hand. I found a new purple collar around her neck, along with a shiny pair of tags. “You got her tags?”
Tony nodded. “City regulations.”
“Hastings has city regulations?” Wonders would never cease.
“See? Feels like home.” Tony sounded satisfied as he limped into the house. I fawned over the dog a moment more, then followed him. Dax shut the door behind us and trailed along after me.
“Dibs on the shower,” I said, turning and sprinting up the stairs before Dax could beat me to it.
An hour and a hell of a lot of scrubbing later, we settled down for turkey sandwiches and bottled water.
“Where’d this come from?” Dax asked in between bites. “I thought it was pastrami or…pastrami.”
“Apparently our dear Vibeke made quite an impression on Food Truck Guy.” Was Tony glaring at me just a little bit? “He dropped these off. Said no one who could stitch up a zombie bite and convince his sister to get medical help deserved to live off pastrami for the rest of their days.”
I couldn’t help a smile. “His name’s Logan. I patched him up a few days ago.”
“Mmph. Was wondering why he wasn’t at his post.”