Day 21

From the moment I wake up my leg is on fire. The pain is almost unbearable as I open my eyes and look down. There are stained bandages wrapped around the hole in my leg preventing me from seeing it and probably going into shock again. There is an indent, but without the direct gore I am able to handle the sight of my mangled leg. My breathing is heavy as I squint my eyes, trying to get the pain under control. Turning my head to the side I see a table next to me with water and several bottles of pills. I grab the nearest and read "Lortab". I open it, get out two pills and swallow them with the water.

I lay there and try to concentrate on anything but the pain, turning on my left side and pulling my legs up. I find a blanket on the back of the couch I am on and pull it over me. As I do so, I see Chad sitting at the end of the couch on a chair. His head is leaning forward and his breathing is heavy. I let him sleep.

The pain is still strong and I wait for the pain killers to take hold. I consider taking a third pill but disregard that . . . for now. At some point the pain dulls out. It is still there, but I don't seem to notice or don't care. I drift into a comatose of odd thoughts and consider becoming a zombie so I don't get hungry but then shake that thought off. I know I am getting tired because my mind is wandering, just like we've been wandering through the motions of surviving but only just getting lucky.  I had gotten lucky once in Vegas. My wife insisted I do the slots and so I did. I won all my money back before blowing it again. So, maybe not lucky. I need to focus my thoughts, or maybe let them drift, and they do drift like drift wood drifting down a river until finally I fall sleep.

* * *

I am awake again. It is very bright outside and the sun light shines through the windows. Looking out, I can tell that it is cold and I miss the mild temperature of California already. Chad has left his seat and now no one is near me. My leg is hurting, but not as bad as it did last night. I grab the Lortab bottle and throw another pill into my mouth. There are other pills there. Many seem to be antibiotics. I wait to take these, hoping someone knows more about them than I do. I look down at my leg. The dressings have been changed, but there is still a blood stain slightly soaking through. I move my foot slightly and the pain radiates throughout my leg. I gasp and shut my eyes trying to will the pain away.

There is a sigh beside me and I hear Josh say, "Oh good . . ." and then yells behind his shoulder, "he's up!" The other two come in quickly.

"Are you OK?" Chad says.

"Where is Dawn? My kids?"

"They aren't here," he replies. "They left."

"Are they OK?"

Chad pauses for a moment, "I don't know. I hope so. They left a note."

"Where are they?" I say getting frustrated, the pain making me anxious.

"I . . . The redwoods. That's what the note says, anyway."

"Note?" He can tell I'm getting short and the pain is picking up.

"Just rest. I'm sure they're fine. For now we need to focus on you. How are you feeling?"

"Not good. My leg is killing me."

"We were worried you'd taken a lot of Lortab last night. The bottle was left open and we thought . . ."

"Just took two," I say, interrupting Chad.

Charlotte steps towards me and looks directly into my eyes. "You should be obviously infected by now. Have you seen someone change?"

I nod. The pain is growing and I am doing everything I can to suppress the pain.

"You'd have a fever and would be constantly throwing up. I . . ." she pauses. "It's incredible." I want to tell her all I know about it, what I think it means, but I can't. The pain is growing and the others can tell. I reach for the  bottle of Lortab and grab another pill. No one says anything as I put it in my mouth and drink the water. Josh hands me two pills he had taken from the antibiotics bottle.

"Take these. I think you're pretty susceptible to an infection." I take them and lean back. "When that kicks in," Josh says, I can tell he doesn't want to bring whatever he is about to bring up but does anyway, "we are going to have to clean the bites and then . . . and then Charlotte is going to take the bullet out of your leg."

"Bullet?" I manage to say.

"When Chad shot it, the pullet went through its skull and into you leg . . . where the bit is." I can feel my face visibly going white. I look at my leg and then at the bottle of Lortab. I grab one more pill, (there are not many left) and put it in my mouth. I can tell the others are uncomfortable with me taking so much, but their sympathies take over and they allow it.

* * *

My head is relatively clear when the medicine kicks in. I feel OK. Not great, but the pain has deadened a lot. Josh tells me that Charlotte had two years in medical school done and so was the most qualified to clean and get the bullet out. While the Lortab tricks me into not care about the pain, it does nothing for my nerves. I am anxious and I can feel the uneasiness through my body, causing me to shake slightly, or at least I feel like I'm shaking.

I see Charlotte, Josh and Chad come in and my stomach feels like it is in my throat. Charlotte is in an old button up shirt of my grandpas and has some plastic gloves they had found in a closet with cleaning supplies. Josh comes and sits next to me, grabbing my hand. "Try not to break it," he says, smiling. I don't reply.

"Do you need me to hold your leg still?" Chad says.

"I can keep it still but it might start shaking involuntarily. So . . . yes."

He grabs my leg just under the knee and holds it tight. He is sitting on the couch's edge and blocks my view of my right leg which is probably for the best.

"I am really really sorry about this," Charlotte says. I can tell she is very uncomfortable with doing this. "They didn't have any disinfectant. So I made some rough saline solution, but I think I'll need to use alcohol at some point. It looks pretty infected."

"OK," is all I can manage. I am terrified. More than I have been when facing zombies or any time I can remember. Once, when I was twenty-one I had gotten bad sores on my back. A resulting disease from Ulcerative Colitis, (which I have) called Pyoderma Gangrenosum. I had to endure nearly twenty minutes with no pain killers while a nurse scrubbed the soars clean. It as the most pain I had ever felt. I had a feeling this would be much worse.

"Ready?" she says, looking at me. I nod and stare at the ceiling. Josh is squeezing my hand harder than I am his. Chad squeezes my leg and I know she's about to start.

The pain is nearly unbearable. The moment she begins the cleaning with cotton balls and saline I take a sharp inhale of breath and grip Josh's hand hard. He winces and I try to loosen my grip. I can feel her moving around and it is all I can do to breath somewhat steadily. Chad is gripping my leg hard and I can feel him struggling against the involuntary shakes. Charlotte says something but I ignore it. Chad lets go and hold my leg differently. My leg is on fire. I grit my teeth and my jaw starts to hurt. I can tell that I am hurting Josh and so I let go and grip his forearm.

"OK," Charlotte say, and I know what is coming. I watch as she reaches beside her and grabs the alcohol and presses the lid to a cotton ball. "This is really going to sting." Sting is not the correct word for the pain that shoots through my body. I let out a moan which quickly turns into an unwilling scream. I can feel her pressing the alcohol soaked cotton into me, pushing hard in some places. My breathing is sporadic at best and I close my eyes, rolling them into the back of my head.

"Hold on," Josh says. "You're doing good." I smile at this, but only for a second. Suddenly the pain lessens significantly and there is only an uncomfortable burning or itching.

"The bullet looks as though it is still in one piece," Charlotte says. "I think I'll be able to get it out . . ."

"Have you done this before?" I hear Chad say. There is no response and I know she is shaking her head, no. She grabs some oddly clean looking pliers and runs them under a match flame for several seconds--until the match burns down. I put my hand to my nose. The break along with the the straining gives me a headache, the pressure at the arch of my nose.

There is no warning given this time. I feel the pliers go into my gaping hole and scream. I clinch Josh's arm hard and Chad is leaning on me, putting his weight on my legs to hold them still. I can feel Charlotte digging around the bullet, trying to find it with such limited resources. There is a sharp pinch and I scream again.

"Sorry, sorry," she says, still concentrating. I grunt and turn my head towards the couch, searching for somewhere to put my other arm. I want to pull my leg away, I want to turn it or shake it. I want to get this foreign object out, but Chad is holding me tightly, not allowing any movement. There is another sharp pain and then it is out.

I give a sigh of relief as Chad gets off of my legs and Charlotte rocks back into a sitting position, holding the pliers in front of her, the smashed bullet between them. She holds it out to show me but I do not have the energy to care. I can feel the Lortab effects coming back, or maybe it's exhaustion. Regardless, I say a quick thanks and close my eyes.