Devil slaps his back. “After,” he promises.
Drummer’s behind me, his hand on my shoulder. There for support, but probably also to hold me back should the need arise. Carter slips on latex gloves, then gets out a pair of forceps and disinfects them. He then does the same to a pair of scissors.
“Devil, get the flashlight and illuminate this area. I need more light.”
“Are you going to anaesthetise her?”
Carter shakes his head. “She’s not going to feel anything, Mouse. She’s out of it. Just monitor her, will you? Let me know if anything changes.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Her pulse, breathing. Tell me if she seems to feel cold or clammy.”
Ah. I place my fingers against her neck. He nods.
“Right, I’m not removing the bullet, could do more damage taking the fucker out. It’s nicked the femoral artery, not much I can do but make sure fibres are removed then I’m going to try to slow the bleeding. Looks like a fairly small calibre, that’s one thing at least.”
I watch as he starts with the forceps, pulling away the strands of her jeans which had been caught up with the bullet. He then uses a sterile fluid to wash out the wound. A dusting of what he says is an antibiotic powder, then he’s pulling the wound together and holding gauze over the top. Gauze that gets soaked pretty quickly. Devil’s there with a bag, and he drops it in it, replacing it with fresh gauze. After he’s gone through three soaked pads, I’m starting to lose hope that she’s going to make it.
I catch his eye. He’s looking at me, assessing. After a moment he asks, “Do you know her blood type?”
I barely know her name. There’s so much I don’t know about her. I stroke back the hair from her face, now oh so pale. “No fuckin’ idea. Her pulse is getting weaker.”
“What blood group are you?”
“O neg. Why?”
Carter’s face lights up. “You are what’s known as a universal donor. You’re not averse to needles, are you?”
Hate the fucking things. That’s why I’ve got no tattoos. “Again, why?”
“Blood transfusion.”
Give my blood to her? I’d do a fuck more than that to save her. “Where do you want me?”
He removes a length of tube and a couple of catheters from that magic bag. Takes a moment to find a vein on her, then Ilook away as he first disinfects then sticks a needle into my arm. But he’s professional about it, and it’s not long before blood starts draining from my body into hers.
It’s probably psychological, but I soon feel faint.
“Shit, Brother, I’m O positive. I can’t fuckin’ help. Would if I could.” Weakly I nod at Blade.
“I can’t either,” says Marvel.
“Nor me.” Fuck me, Viper and Marvel sound disappointed.
“I’m not,” says Dollar.
Word goes around the plane. Another man, Kleinman, says that he’s O negative too.
At the news Carter gives a wide grin. “Against the bloody odds, but good news. Thanks, Kleinman.”
I notice Carter’s watching both me and Mariana carefully, and the tube lying between us. My blood leaving my body and hopefully giving a chance of life to hers.
“Her blood loss is slowing down.” He still sounds grim. She’s lost an awful lot of blood.Too much?I’ve no idea what eight pints looks like. Drop a pint of milk and it looks like a whole cow’s exploded.
“Okay.” Carter’s leaning over me. “That’s it for you now. Be careful standing, Mouse. You might feel dizzy. Stay sitting down.” I want to protest; she can have all I’ve fuckin’ got. I can’t let her die. But he gives me no chance, having already removed the catheter and slapping a band-aid over where it was. “Kleinman?”
Drummer helps me stand, as Kleinman takes my place. I do feel dizzy, but feel Carter should have let me give more.
