Chapter 4 Back Alley Surgery

Vivianne

I took a deep breath and then removed my jacket, and reached for the first aid kit. The first thing I did was reach for one of my glucose powders, open it, and dump the contents into my mouth. Then I begin to get the items I’ll need from the kit.

“What was that?” I looked up as the guy with the gun waves said gun in my face, and watched me angrily.

“Listen Wyatt Earp, how about you point that thing somewhere else if you want me to help your boss over here. That was glucose powder, as my blood sugar has a slight tendency to decide to nosedive. So, I keep them everywhere and ready. So, I am making sure my blood sugar won’t fall causing me to get shaky and sick, which would further complicate this already totally fucked up bullshit.” I shook my head and he actually lowered the gun.

I pulled out the box of gloves as well as the box of alcohol wipes. I couldn’t “scrub up” like I normally would obviously, so the only thing I could think to do was to wipe my hands down really well with alcohol. I did so, then donned a pair of gloves.

I approached the guy who looked to still be passed the fuck out. I started to remove the blood-soaked shirt he was wearing, finding that there were a couple of holes in it as well as some gouges that were soaked with blood. Once I had it opened I observed what looked like a couple of bullet holes and a very deep laceration. Two of the bullet holes seem to be through and through, but one looked deeper and still seemed to have the bullet.

I finished removing his shirt, removed that pair of gloves, gathered items to remove a bullet, and suture kits so I could sew up what needed to be sewn up. So, once I had a penlight in my hand, I decided to check for pupil dilation. Once I opened his eyes, I noticed they had a slight unusual shine to them, not quite an animal shine, but different than just normal, so I noted that.

I also noticed that his pupils are not just responsive, more hyper-responsive to the light, but he’s still acting as if he is completely out. I shook my head and determined that I couldn’t do much about anything in these circumstances. So, I just decided to brush it off for now at least. 

I cut away his shirt, and then donning a new pair of gloves began to probe the edges of the wounds. Then picking up a pair of medical-grade tweezers, I start to probe the bullet hole looking to still contain the bullet. I seem to be nicking the bullet with these tweezers, but they are not really made to help remove bullets. So, I look at the kit and don't see anything I can use to open the wound more. 

So, I take a deep breath and decide I hope he really is as deeply out as he looks to be because this will hurt like a bitch. I set the tweezers to the side, and instead, force my fingers into the wound. I swore I heard a growl come from the man so I paused and looked at his face. He is still lying with eyes closed and I haven't detected an increase in breathing. I let out my breath, and continued to probe his wound with my hands, and then I finally was able to grab the bullet and pull it out. As it cleared the edge of the hole, I could have sworn that there was a wisp of smoke that escaped.

I sat back quickly just looking at the wound, I then looked at the bullet in my fingers. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise, but I was determined to blow that off. I shook myself and changed into a new and clean pair of gloves. 

Getting the sutures ready, I started trying to work to close the deep, very rough-looking gouges across his stomach. I’m surprised that whatever caused these rough, deep, cuts didn’t end up eviscerating him, but there’s no exposed intestine or stomach muscle, so he’s fucking lucky. 

I worked to try to pull the rough edges of the wounds closed, and push the needle through to keep the stitches as neat and regular as I possibly could. I started to hear pacing not too far behind me, but I didn’t dare turn to look and take my focus off my patient.

“What’s taking so long?” I sighed at the stupidity of Whyatt Earp back there.

“Listen this is not a race to the finish line as far as I know, I am trying to take care of the patient that I have been told to help. So, it takes me as long as it takes. Go pace somewhere else.” I sighed hoping he would go the fuck away. 

I was continuing to try to piece this guy back together. I frequently glanced at his face, trying to judge if he was feeling what I was doing or not. He almost seemed to be comatose, but I was just glad he was having no reaction to my primitive surgery. 

When I started working on the bullet wound of the bullet I had removed, I noticed that the edges of the wound seemed to be sporting burns. I paused, thinking of the smoke I thought I had seen when the bullet had touched his skin. I again told myself I was just being stupid.

As I finished piecing together this chest, and stomach area, I sat back on my heels. I again removed the bloodied gloves I was currently wearing and then looked to gather up bandages, as well as antibiotic ointment. I wasn’t sure it would help keep him from getting an infection in this fucking nasty place, but I’d at least be able to say I added it. 

As I touched his skin while applying the ointment, something clicked in my tired brain. His skin was at a normal temperature to me, and as my hands were always freezing cold, he should have felt hot. The air in the building wasn’t that cold, in fact it was rather too warm in here. Now, sure, it could be a sign of shock, but he wasn’t exhibiting any other signs of shock. 

I tilted my head and started looking closer. Then my eyes got huge, and I just focused for a moment. I kept staring, just watching, telling myself I was wrong. When I didn’t see his chest rise and fall, I ripped off my gloves, 

I reached up with a shaking hand and touched his pulse point on his neck. I could feel his slow and sluggish pulse against my fingertips. I pulled my hand away quickly. He wasn’t breathing, but he had a pulse. I knew what that meant.

The man lying before me, whom I was helping, was a fucking vampire.

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