The streets were deserted. Where was everyone? Where had they all gone? The girl wandered through the dark streets on her way home from a job that day. It was only ten o’clock, and the streets were deserted. Usually one of the boys waited outside or near the home until everyone was in, but she saw no one. She should have tuned in to the radio or a news channel before leaving work, she decided. There was an eeriness in the air that was calm but in the most horrible of ways.
A chill in the wind came at this time, much cooler than it had been previously. She picked up her pace, walking faster. The street began to look familiar, but with all of the shops lights out and people inside it was different than before. She felt as if there were eyes on her somewhere, but she had no idea where. Was she being followed? She threw a quick glance behind her but saw no one.
The only sound she could hear were her own footsteps. Wait. No. There was a shuffling along with her own. She stopped, and the shuffling stopped. She shook her head and began walking again, although the shuffle was definitely noticeable now. She closed her eyes and hoped they would go away, and she desperately hoped she wouldn’t be the only one on the street for much longer.
A building half a block away started to look familiar to her. She nodded and hurried her pace. She heard clicks from a block down the street, but she tried to ignore it. She tried to ignore the empty streets and the clicking and the loud noises that came afterwards. As she felt something **** past her ear she began running, only to feel something else jolt her hip through her jacket. She let out a soft cry as a sharp, burning sensation took over her hip. It hurt to run but she had to keep going.
As she heard more shots fire off, a large, muscular arm reached out from between two buildings and pulled her back, turning her to face whomever had decided to save her from being shot. She saw the shadowed face of one of the boys from the building and she let out a sigh of relief, wincing afterwards as the pain in her hip brought her back to the reality of everything.
“Something hit me, I-I don’t know what I just-”
“He hit Casper earlier. Let’s go.”
He grabbed her arm gruffly and led her through the space between the buildings before heading around back, hoisting her from the loading dock of their building to another one of the boys. She leaned against him as he lead her to one of the unused rooms, having her sit on a sheet on the floor.
“Where is it?” He asked, taking her jacket off of her.
“My hip, it went through my jacket, I don’t know what it is-” She stopped, looking at the blood gathering onto her white shirt.
“The guy’s a lunatic. He’s been known to shove things other than ammunition into his guns. They’ll have him caught by midnight. He’s done this before. Your shirt’s in the way, I can’t get it out….”
She nodded and pulled her shirt up over her head, looking over the damage by her hip. It didn’t look too large, but it hurt like a *****. She balled up her shirt, handing it to the boy helping her. “You can use it to stop the bleeding if you want, I can’t really wear it again.”
He nodded, taking the shirt. He moved away for a few moments, coming back with a bottle of *****, a bottle of water, a pair of tweezers, a small knife, a needle and thread, another rag (this one being cleaner than her shirt), and a syringe. “Do you want it numb or not?”
She shook her head. She knew she would regret it, but she was too deathly afraid of needles to him inject her with anything. “I’ll take pills later.”
“Suit yourself,” he muttered, “Put this in your mouth. You’ll want it.” He handed her the clean rag and waited until she was situated to begin. He adjusted a desk lamp over her hip, instructing her to lay down. He began by rinsing his tools with the *****, then taking a look at her hip. “It’s a piece of shrapnel. Not very big, hopefully just the only. It would **** if it were broken up inside.” Without hesitation, he pulled the skin to the side slightly, using the tweezers to try and grab at the shrapnel. She bit down on the rag, her eyes squeezed shut, trying not to make any sound.
It took him a few tries, but after about half a minute and had the shrapnel out. He leaned over to show it to her. “A sharp little ******, but that’s all that I can see in there. We have to clean up though, that’ll probably be the worst part.” Without hesitation, he splashed a bit of ***** onto the wound. She couldn’t stop the groaning escaping her lips, as her whole hip was more on fire than it was before. He splashed some water on next, pushing her shirt on to the wound. “Keep it there with as much pressure as you can. I have to get the stitches ready.”
She nodded and did as she was told, but she was terrified of the stitches. She’d seen it been done to some of the other boys before, and they handled it well, but she had never been stitched up even in a hospital before. The boy reached over and took her shirt away from her, using some water to clean up the bloodied area. He called a couple other boys over, one grabbing her legs and the other half of her torso. “I don’t want you to be squirming around, it’ll **** up the stitches,” the boy explained.
She nodded, but as soon as the thin needle punctured her skin she was unhappy with the stitching. She squeezed her eyes shut and ground her teeth, her legs trying to squirm slightly. Tears stung her eyes and she felt them try to escape. Soon the stitching was over, but the whole wound area hurt immensely.
“You should have taken the morphine,” the boy shrugged. He brought over the bottle of water and two pills. “They’re Vicodin. You’ll sleep for a while, it’ll heal better that way.” She nodded and took the water and the pills, swallowing both. She rested her head back and closed her eyes, waiting on the pills to take affect. She felt herself floating soon, her mind blackening into a world of sleep.