Chapter 3
For 5 seconds neither moved.
Then Dominic’s fingers slowly opened.
His hand fell heavily onto the mattress.
He turned his face toward the wall.
“Get it over with.”
Nora continued.
Once the old dressing came away, the real extent of the wound appeared.
The bullet had torn through the upper pectoral muscle.
It had missed the collarbone but left a jagged crater surrounded by swollen, angry tissue.
Yellow pus drained from the wound.
The previous stitches were badly placed and pulling against the inflammation.
“Who did this?”
Nora reached for saline and gauze.
“A vet.”
Dominic squeezed his eyes shut as she cleaned the wound.
“Remind me never to take my dog to him.”
A sound escaped him.
For a moment, Nora thought he was coughing.
Then she realized he had laughed.
The movement immediately turned into a wince.
“Just clean it.”
She worked for the next 20 minutes.
Methodical.
Precise.
She used topical anesthetic where possible.
Removed the poor sutures.
Flushed the infected tissue thoroughly.
Packed the wound with antibiotic strips.
Then applied a fresh compression dressing.
Dominic remained silent.
His left hand gripped the sheets hard enough to tear the fabric.
When Nora secured the final piece of tape, she stepped backward.
“The worst part is done.”
She removed the bloody gloves and placed them in a biohazard bag.
“I need an IV for the antibiotics.”
She looked at him.
“Then you sleep.”
Dominic turned toward her.
His breathing was more even.
The fever was still present, but the immediate crisis had eased.
He watched her prepare the IV bag.
“You didn’t flinch.”
“I’ve seen worse.”
Nora tapped his forearm until she found a vein.
“Doubtful.”
“You’d be surprised.”
She inserted the needle cleanly, secured it, and adjusted the flow.
Then she gathered the contaminated supplies.
“I’ll be in that chair.”
Nora indicated the armchair beside the window.
“Sleep.”
She sank into it.
Every part of her body hurt.
She drew her knees toward her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
From the bed, Dominic spoke once more before the medication pulled him under.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Nora.”
“Don’t get comfortable, Nora.”
His eyes were already closing.
“You probably won’t last the week.”
“We’ll see.”
May you like
Nora’s answer disappeared into the dark.
Disclaimer: This story is fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. Any names, characters, places, or events are fictitious or used fictitiously. No real person or organization is intended to be portrayed.
