Page 11 of Nightcrawler
“Good, now go make something,” Vonne said, staring up at the tall man.
“Make something?”
“Food, dumbass. Make some of that stew or soup or something. I know you’ve got the fixin’s. You always do.”
“Hobo stew?”
“Sounds right.” Vonne made a shooing gesture. “Now go. I can’t work with you hoverin’ over me. You’re worse than a damned Blackhawk.”
Without a word, Trigg walked into the kitchen and began to do something while Vonne smiled at me. “Let me get you unwrapped,” he said without waiting for me to say anything as he examined the wounds, palpating them as he hung his head, not needing to look at them while he concentrated on what was under his experienced fingers. The exam hurt but I gritted my teeth, breathing through it as I let him do what he needed to. When he was done, he met my eyes with a smile, patting my bare shoulder. “He got you cleaned up real nice.”
Vonne grabbed some clean towels and carefully wiped away the blood around the wounds. He opened the backpack and produced several other items which he placed on one of the hand towels he’d spread out on the bed. Among them were what looked like surgical instruments in sealed plastic along with a package of surgical gloves. And if that didn’t look like so much fun, he produced a syringe and small bottle of something along with an ampule. After cleaning the end of the bottle with an alcohol wipe, he drew a dose of whatever was inside and held up the needle.
“This is lidocaine. It’ll numb the area so’s I can get in there and dig around a bit. Are you allergic to any medications?”
“No.”
“Latex?”
“No.”
He smiled, patting my shoulder again. “Good. There might be shards of the projectile in the wound track. I can’t feel anythin’ on palpation, but I don’t want to leave anythin’ behind that will—I promise you—get infected and cause a big problem later. Even with the local, this is gonna hurt some. I’ll be fast. Is that okay with you?”
“Do what you gotta do, Doc.” I tried to put on a brave face because I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of these two capable men.
“Here we go,” Vonne said, nodding as he proceeded to give me shots front and back. It took way too long in my opinion but what did I know. It hurt like a bitch, but I held my tongue and let him do what he needed to. When he was done, he capped the needle and opened a sterile, blue chuck package. He grabbed all the surgical instrument packets and opened them one by one, dumping their contents onto the spread-out chuck before expertly opening the sterile gloves and donning them. He sat back on his heels with interlaced fingers, meeting my eyes.
“Okay, Raven, we’re gonna do this. If you feel faint, let me know and I’ll pause what I’m doin’ but I’ve got a sterile field here and I don’t want to start all over. Got that?”
“Yeah.”
He gave a sharp nod. “Good. Try and stay still.”
“I’m ready, Vonne.”
“Let’s go,” he said, picking up one of the instruments as I started doing meditation exercises in my head.
TRIGG
I watched my best friend working on Raven for a few minutes, and then turned to my task, opening a package of ground beef I’d thawed for dinner. I cut up a big red onion, five cloves of garlic, peeled several potatoes, and sliced up two big leeks and bell peppers before throwing them in a frying pan. After making sure that the ground beef and veggies were browned, I drained off the fat and tossed it all into a big stockpot and began opening cans. I’d made hobo—also known as Mulligan—stew for my unit in the field many times. It was simple, made of canned veggies when that’s all we had, but appreciated by everyone when we couldn’t find meat or fresh ingredients. After dumping in canned tomatoes, peas, green beans, and kidney, navy, and pinto beans, I added canned tomato soup, dried basil, black pepper, and powdered beef bouillon.
I set the pot on low heat to boil and looked up in time to see Vonne squat and help Raven out of his expensive boots and strip him to his boxer briefs. He said something and Raven rolled to his side, presenting his back as Vonne pulled out several syringes and filled them. He bent and lowered his boxer briefs, giving him one shot after another. The last one dragged another moan out of the man before Vonne helped him stretch out on his back. He covered him with my favorite quilt and said a few words before Raven nodded and closed his eyes.
I stayed in the kitchen, watching Vonne clean up.
“This is trash,” he said, dumping the chuck he’d used as a sterile field into my trashcan before meeting my eyes. “What in the hell happened, Trigg?”
I frowned and looked over at Raven who was lying unmoving on my bed before darting a glance back at Vonne. “He gonna be okay?” I kept my voice quiet so I wouldn’t be overheard although it was probably more about letting him rest than anything else.
“I cleaned the wounds and patched him up. Dug around in there for a bit. Made a bloody mess, but I think the bullet passed through cleanly without fragmenting. Looked like a .22 caliber if I had to guess. Not a lot of firepower but it would’ve been lethal if it hit the right spot. I dug a couple of big splinters out of his face too and dressed them with antibiotic ointment. He’s lucky one of them shards didn’t end up in his pretty eyes.”
I agreed. “What were the shots for?”
“I gave him a broad-spectrum antibiotic which should kill anythin’ that was on the bullet. He’ll have to have one more tomorrow morning. I’ll be back to do that. I also gave him a tetanus shot since he said he hasn’t had one in a while. Finally, I gave him somethin’ that’ll help him sleep a bit.” Vonne turned to look at the bed before looking back. “Who is he? One of your bounties?”
I shook my head. “No, man. His name is Raven Mathis, and he works for Grayson, Mallory, and Simms Insurance. He’s one of their recovery agents.”
Vonne nodded and then a slow smile split his face. “Wait…is he that guy you had a total hard on for when you lost out on that diamond recovery a few months back, Trigg?”