American Apocalypse Wastelands Read Free

going to have to get you chain mail underwear. You don’t need a vest. The only place you ever get hit is in the ass.”
    I remember listening to him. It all sounded so far away. The last thing I heard him say was, “Damn, nice sized woodie you got there. I bet that’s got to be at least six inches. You want him to save it for you? Kind of a keepsake for when you were actually well hung?”
    Then I drifted away. Later I came to for a few minutes and was sure he was telling me, step by step, how to field strip an M-16. Every time I would pop back up to the surface I’d hear his voice and relax and go back under.
    I had come to. I had been elsewhere and hadn’t wanted to come back to the surface, but I knew something was wrong. Bad wrong.
    I opened my eyes and saw Medic Man sitting at Night’s head, holding her arms down. She was thrashing and moaning. He had bandaged the back of her head, neck, and part of her back. Watery stains outlined in red marked the whiteness of the gauze. The blanket that had covered her was off, and she was wearing nothing but the bandages on her back.
    I knew what he was doing. She would tear the bandages off and open the wounds if she wasn’t restrained. Yet I didn’t like the way he looked and how he was positioned next to her, his crotch almost in her face.
    He was getting ready to do something. I knew this. First though, he decided to look around, which only confirmed it. He saw me watching him and his face changed ever so slightly. He was good. His eyes didn’t stay on me for more than a millisecond. He reached down, pulled the blanket up, and told her softly to be still. She already
was. She had stopped moving a couple beats after I had opened my eyes.
    He let go of her, got up, and went over to check on Max who was stretched out on the floor about eight feet away. His eyes were open and he was watching Medic Man too. For a second they glowed red.
    I knew Medic Man had also seen it because he froze. Then Max closed his eyes, and the morphine pulled me back down. Just not as deep this time. It wanted to, and I wanted to go, but I could no longer accept its embrace.
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    Probably twenty-four hours later, maybe less, I started coming to for greater periods of time. Medic Man was always there. He brought me water without asking and gave me more pills.
    When I asked him what they were for, he said, “Infection. It’s what I am worried about the most. Then it will be muscle damage.”
    He was chewing gum like a fiend. I was conscious enough to overhear an exchange between him and Max during this period.
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    â€œI need your keys. I also need a gun—preferably a shotgun with a mix of slug and buckshot.” This was from Max. It was good to know he was up and mobile already.
    â€œSure,” Medic Man said. But he couldn’t hide his surprise. “Let me give you the keys to the Lexus. I haven’t unloaded the truck yet.” Interesting , I thought, how casually and quickly Medic Man agreed to this. “So where you going?”
    â€œBack to the motel.” I didn’t have to look to know Max was grinning. He continued, “You want to come?”

    â€œAh … not really. I got to stay here. Look out for them. Just in case.”
    â€œNo problem. Got any more speed?”
    â€œYeah, sure.”
    About ten minutes later, after hearing movement and the sound of a shotgun being racked, I heard Max say, “If I’m not back in twenty-four hours, tell Gardener it was real.”
    I laughed to myself when I heard that. I also decided to get up and take a leak. I had been through this before when I fell on a rake that was tines side up. This was worse, probably because the wound was deeper.
    Night was awake also. Together we hobbled to the bathroom. I let her go first, and then I hobbled in. It was not fun. Thank God I didn’t have to sit down. I made a mental note to avoid food high in fiber for the next