Authors: Rain Stickland
“I’ll still try to double-check for compatibility, unless time turns against us. Otherwise we’ll just have to take the chance. It’s unlikely she would have a reaction to your blood, but it’s still possible.”
It was only now that Mac took the time to look closely at her daughter. She saw the mess of her arm and gasped. The middle of her forearm looked like bloody pulp. She could see red-smeared bone fragments sticking out. At least one of the bones had been shattered, but beyond that she had no way of knowing the damage. All she could do was stand there, hoping she wasn’t going to lose her arm. There was no point asking Annette for any information, because she wouldn’t know anything until she started working on it. Kelly brought in a chair and positioned it by Cam’s head.
“Sit down, Mac, so I can draw some blood from you. I’ll have Kelly start the typing and cross-matching while I take a better look at Cam’s injury. Do you know what happened?”
“I think she was shot. Beyond that, no,” Mac answered quickly. She didn’t bother to share her opinion about the bone. Annette could see all that for herself, and understand more of what she was seeing. Despite being a vet, she had more medical training than the rest of them put together, and she was their only option when they were hurt.
The only other person she knew who could be considered medical personnel was Sarjit, but he was a pharmacist and didn’t actually live on the farm with them. They traded with him, but he stayed in his own home with his wife and children. Annette was trained to handle multiple species, and Mac had a lot of faith in her abilities. She’d been there to help when Neil had been shot, and now she would be there for Cam. She would owe her everything, if she could keep her daughter alive.
“I’m going to keep a sedative on standby, but I don’t want to give it to her unless I have to. With the amount of blood she’s lost, it’s risky to give her anything,” Annette explained.
“Alright. I don’t want her in pain, but I’d rather that than have her die. Pain is temporary,” Mac said, tormented herself at the thought of the torture Cam would go through if she woke up while Annette was working on her.
“What kind of gun was it? Do you know?”
“Handgun. I don’t know what calibre it was, but it’s still likely low-velocity rather than high-velocity like Neil’s wound,” Mac said, hoping the lower velocity would mean less damage to Cam’s arm.
“Whichever it was, I’ll have to deal with whatever I find. I don’t have the benefit of x-rays, which means I’m going to have to look at the actual bones to be sure of the damage. To me it looks like the radius, but the ulna may have been damaged as well. I’ll see how far the bullet went in once I’m at that point. If the cross-matching checks out, we’ll get that set up and ready to go. I need to get some things together, though. Thankfully I have some plates and screws. They were in with all the other stuff I brought from the clinic, and I’m likely going to have to use them to keep the bone together long enough for it to mend. I can take them out later if they bother her, though that might re-fracture it.
“It looks like she brought her arm up to protect her face,” Annette mused, and Mac tried desperately not to think of what would have happened if Cam hadn’t gotten her arm up in time.
Annette had to work on Cam’s arm for several hours. With so few medical amenities, there was only so much she could do for her, and it took a lot longer than it would have with a full team in a proper surgery. She had Kelly helping her, since she knew which instruments to hand her, and she usually helped when Annette worked on the animals.
Mac was shoved back into the chair when it came time for the transfusion. The cross-matching had been fine, so at least the blood loss could be replaced. She could hear Neil outside, which meant Billy had gone to get him, but she was too focused on watching Cam’s face while she was being worked on to even call out to him. She knew he had to be frantic, but Cam’s need was greater.
Finally Annette closed up the wound, bandaged it, and splinted it to keep it stable. She had the materials to put a cast on the arm, but said she wanted to keep an eye on the wound for a little while before she did that. She stepped back from the exam table when she was done, placed both hands in the small of her back and stretched.
“I’ll need to give her an antibiotic. Thankfully we’re all up to date on our vaccinations and boosters, but she could easily get an infection. She’s allergic to penicillin, right?”
“Yeah. I’ve got Bird Sulfa if you need it, but I imagine you’re covered there,” Mac said.
“I’ll give her an injection, yes. She can start taking the pills when she wakes up again. She should be fine for pain relievers then, too. And she’s really going to want them at that point.”
Annette gave Cam the injection, and left to go sit down. Mac couldn’t blame her. She’d been standing over Cam for the whole surgery, her back bent. Mac stayed where she was, stroking Cam’s undamaged arm, and just let the tears flow. There was a very good chance of nerve damage according to Annette, which might resolve itself within a year or so, but there was no way to know for sure until the injury began to heal. Still, Mackenzie could only think about how grateful she was that her daughter was still alive. Maybe not entirely out of the woods yet, but alive and strong enough to fight if there was an infection to deal with.
She started sobbing, and that’s when Neil came in. He was shaking when he knelt down to hold her, even though he knew Cam was probably going to be okay. Or maybe that was her. It wasn’t long before Cam was stirring restlessly on the table beside them. Mac figured it was probably because of all the noise she was making, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d never been so scared in her life, and at the moment she was a little bit dizzy, too.
“Mom? Is that you?” Cameron’s voice was weak, but it sounded like a miracle to her mother. Mac hiccupped and grabbed for Cam’s uninjured arm again.
“Yeah, it’s me. Now that you’re awake we’ll get you some drugs, okay? Annette didn’t want to give you any while you were unconscious, because you lost a lot of blood.”
“Okay, good. Drugs are good. Hurts,” Cam slurred.
“Hang on, sweetie,” Mac said. She looked at Neil and he went to get Annette. A few moments later Cam was swallowing a couple of the Percocets they had managed to get from the pharmacist when they started trading with him. As soon as possible Cam would have to be switched over to Tylenol, though. Major narcotics were in dangerously short supply, but they had enough acetaminophen to last them until the pills expired. At least they had plenty of Tylenol Ones which contained a small amount of codeine, since they were available without a prescription at the time she’d started stocking up on various things.
Major drugs were kept locked up in one of the gun safes, however, to which very few people had access. Mac had also stocked up on the chemicals necessary to make ether, but it was so dangerous to make, and hard to administer, that they weren’t touching the stuff until they ran out of all other options. That was something else she’d be leaving up to the pharmacist to do for them, since he had a degree in chemistry and understood how all that stuff worked. Mac didn’t even understand the periodic table of elements. Just looking at it gave her a headache.
“What happened to that guy who was with me?” Cam finally asked.
“I have no idea. Last I saw he was standing in the yard,” Mac said, and looked at Neil for clarification.
“He’s still out there, though I had Billy bring him something to eat. I think he’s waiting to see how you’re doing, though I’m not really sure. He hasn’t spoken that I’m aware of.”
“He didn’t say anything to me, either,” Cam said. “I don’t think he can remember his name or anything. I nearly ran him down on the road, and then stopped to give him some food. I brought him with me when I went to find my dad … oh, God,” she trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.
In all her terror over Cam’s condition, Mac had pushed aside thoughts of Allan, but now she felt her own eyes well up.
“I’m so sorry, Cam,” Mac said.
“You saw the pictures?” Cam asked.
“Not the pictures, no. We went into the house where Geraldine was found. He was in there,” she explained.
“So, she wasn’t lying then? The pictures were real?”
“I don’t know what the pictures looked like, but your dad was killed, yes.” There was nothing else Mackenzie could say. Cam had lost the only father she’d ever known, and there was little comfort Mac could give her. All she could do was grieve with her. She knew Cam would be tormented by the fact that they had been arguing at the time of his death, too.
It didn’t matter that it was Allan’s short-sightedness that had caused the argument, either. That might even make it worse. Cam would feel anger for that, and guilt for the anger. Mackenzie stroked her daughter’s sweat-soaked, and dirt-matted hair, hoping that Cam could feel all the love her mother felt for her in that simple gesture. It was all the comfort she could give her, and it didn’t feel like it would ever be enough.
After a while, Mac asked Cameron if she was willing to see the young man who had most likely saved her life. She nodded silently, so Neil went out to get him.
He shuffled in slowly, as though unsure of his welcome, even though he’d been invited in. Mac looked up at him.
“Thank you. I’m not sure what all happened, but I get the feeling it’s because of you that my daughter’s still alive, so thank you. One day I’ll hear the whole story from one of you, maybe, but for now it’s enough that she’s alive.” She would never be able to thank him enough, she knew, even if she said it a thousand times. Neil cleared his throat beside her.
“Cam’s not my daughter, but her life is very important to me, so I feel the need to thank you as well. For whatever it is you did to keep her with us. We’ll leave you alone for a couple of minutes,” Neil said, and holding Mac by the hand he pulled her outside with him. She was a bit startled, but didn’t question it. She trusted his judgment, and knew Cam would be safe, even though the guy was a stranger to them. All the same, they remained outside where they could hear what was going on. Trust was one thing, but curiosity was something else entirely.
“Maybe one day you’ll be able to tell me your name, so that I can thank you properly. You really did save me. She was just about to finish me off when you came looking for me. I hope you’ll choose to stay with us. You don’t have to be sociable or anything. Nobody expects much from anyone around here. We all just pitch in a bit of work here and there to keep things going, and that way there’s plenty of food to go around. Still, when you want company there’s lots of it,” Cam finished.
“Blake,” a voice rasped. Mac smiled at Neil.
“Is that your name?” Cam asked him.
“Yes,” he said in the same raspy voice. It sounded as though he hadn’t used it in a really long time, or maybe it had been damaged somehow.
“I’m glad you were able to remember it. Thank you, Blake. For everything. You don’t have to answer now. About staying I mean. You can just hang out and see if you like it here. Does that sound alright?”
“Okay.”
“Cool. Anyway, I’m really glad I’m alive, and I’m really grateful for your help, but they gave me some drugs a little while ago because my arm hurts, so I feel kind of weird and floaty. Not useta drugs. Dunno if I can talk much longer, but you’re really nice. Thank you. Glad you’re staying. Cute too, I think. Kinda hard to tell, but prolly. Pretty eyes,” Cam said, severely slurring her words and trailing off.
Blake walked out of the makeshift surgery with a very odd look on his face.
“Come on, Blake. Let’s get you settled in,” said Mac. “I have a feeling you’re going to be here for a while.
Her father’s body had been brought back to the farm, along with Brian Newman’s, which had been found in the house he’d shared with his wife. Annette performed a somewhat cursory exam of all of the bodies in order to log their injuries so a record could be kept, though her exam of Geraldine had been done where her body had fallen after Blake had broken her neck. Nobody had wanted her on the farm.
She felt sad for Brian. As far as Cam could tell, he had done nothing but love his wife and son, and had paid for that decency with his life. There was a lot of debate about what to do with Brian’s remains, and in the end they had said a few words and taken him to be buried beside his wife and son. Cameron remained behind, not wanting to see the final resting place of any of them. Her dad was a different story.
Allan had been washed in the process of examining him, so the only thing left had been to figure out some sort of ritual to perform. Cam needed a final goodbye. A way to honour the man she had loved as her father for as long as she could remember. It didn’t matter right then that they had argued before his death.
Everyone else on the farm would need to say goodbye, too. Her dad had been friends with Chuck and Gilles for as long as her mother had. At one time they had been a tight group, so Cam would not be the only one feeling the pain from his death. It just cut her more deeply. There was a connection between everyone that lived there, though. They had all come through the end of the world together, and this was the first time one of their number had been lost.
Her mother, when not trying to comfort Cam, had spent all her time in the large garden shed she used as a workshop. Cameron didn’t look, but she had a feeling she knew what she was doing. Her feeling was later confirmed. Chuck and Gilles brought out a heavy stand, placing it in the middle of the yard, close to the place where Ian had given her that first jiu-jitsu lesson.
A few minutes went by, and then they were carrying out a wooden box. Her mother followed them out of the large garden shed, one arm wrapped around her middle, and her other hand pressed over her mouth as if to hold in her sobs. Tears flowed unchecked down her face. Cam turned away from her mother’s grief to fight against her own. She wasn’t ready yet.
As she watched, they took the box into the makeshift animal surgery, where her dad’s body was waiting. She knew she shouldn’t go in there. That it would hurt her to see it. She went anyway. He’d already been dressed when she’d gone to say a private goodbye to him that morning, so now she watched Chuck, Gilles, and her mother, as they lifted him off the table and lowered him into the simple box. Cam stepped forward, using her left arm to help them carry it out to the waiting stand, though she refused to look in at him as they walked. She didn’t want to see him being jostled, moving as though there was still life in him.
Cameron had gone into the bushes with her mother that very morning, still weak from her surgery the day before, and floating on a couple more Percocets she’d taken to keep the pain in check. Together they had chosen the spot for her dad to be buried. Neil and Billy had taken over the digging. It wasn’t something Cam could do while her arm was pretty much destroyed, though she would have liked to. She couldn’t help thinking she needed the exertion. A way to work off some of the pain building inside her. Instead she had watched for a little while, but it wasn’t long before she turned on her heel to disappear a short way into the bush.
Part of her wanted the tears to come, while another part felt a need to hold them in, as if that would keep him close somehow. When she went back to the house, she saw the partially-assembled pool table, and an unreasonable anger at her mother swelled inside her. He had been looking forward to playing pool again, but never got the chance because other things had come before setting up the table.
When she’d gone back outside, however, that was when she’d seen what her mother had been doing in her workshop. It wasn’t until that moment that she’d realize the extent of her mother’s grief. Cam knew she had loved her dad at one time, but she hadn’t considered that she might still care a great deal about him. Cameron had always figured he was more of an annoyance to her than anything else. Someone she tolerated for her daughter’s benefit. She could see now that it was a lot more complicated than that.
Maybe love never really died. Maybe it just changed, even if it ended in hate. Cam hadn’t truly understood her mother’s ability to remain friends with her exes. Kirk was different. They had tried dating, but had never really been anything but friends. So they had gone back to their friendship with no hard feelings. Not for the first time, Cam wondered if she was even capable of loving someone like that. She had never experienced it, and wasn’t sure she would recognize love if it ever came her way.
Her eyes fell on Blake, standing by himself near the house, and she quickly looked away.
No
, she thought.
I can’t deal with anything even remotely like that right now
. There might be a flicker there inside her, but it was dampened by the heavy grief burning in her chest. If it hadn’t been for that, she might have been willing to spare a few moments to wonder. Now her mind spun in a loop that made her shy away from emotional connections of any kind. She could hardly stand to be around her mother right now, because she was assailed by fear. Death could happen to any one of them, would eventually happen to them all, and she could not bear even the thought of losing her mother, yet she was reminded forcibly of the possibility whenever she saw her.
Cameron stared down at her dad’s ruined face now, not noticing at first that people were coming toward her. When she did finally see them all gathered around, she wanted to scream at them that it wasn’t time yet. She wasn’t ready. That they couldn’t take him away from her. But she knew he had already been taken. This was nothing more than a formality. All she could really do was hope he had gone somewhere else, and that, in time, she would be allowed to see him again. She wasn’t religious, and so her hope was small, but her mother believed there was something beyond them despite the fact that she wasn’t religious either.
Finally her mother walked over and guided her a small distance away from her dad’s body, so that Gilles could say what needed to be said. He was the only one who knew her dad well enough to speak, who could do so without breaking down. Even Chuck was something of a mess, and Cam knew her mother couldn’t even go to the funerals of strangers without crying from the grief of everyone around her. Cameron just didn’t feel ready to say goodbye, and she knew that when she was, she would never be able to speak for the grief that would overtake her.
“I’ve known Allan since just after high school,” Gilles began. “We were all a bit wild then, spending far too much time in the local pubs and bars, but having a lot of fun. We kind of made our own family, and when Mac and Allan were together we just sort of congregated at their place.
“Time went on and we drifted into different lives, but we never lost that basic friendship. We always knew that if one of us needed help, the rest would all be there. When things went bad for the rest of the world, we pulled together once again, becoming a family. Allan, though he was always a bit different from the rest of us and never truly settled down, was just as much family then, as he was when we were friends all those years ago.
“He was a good man. One of the few that would never willingly harm another human being, because he just didn’t have that in him. There was no hate, and even though he had a temper it wasn’t the sort of anger he kept inside himself for long. He forgave everyone for everything, no matter what it was, and was happy to sit down and drink a beer with them again, right then and there.
“Mostly Allan wanted to laugh and have fun. He teased everyone, including himself. There wasn’t an ounce of malice in him when he did it, either. He just liked to joke around. His inability to take things seriously could be difficult for most of us to deal with, because we were all so busy moving ahead with our plans and dreams. Allan just wanted to stay where he was. He was content with his lot in life, and I’ve never seen that quality in anyone else. It’s something we can all learn a lesson from, I think. That quiet acceptance of what was handed to him allowed him to live more freely than anyone I’ve ever known.
“Not everyone here knew him as long, but it wasn’t hard to get to know him well. He was exactly as he appeared to be. There were no secrets with Allan. His life was completely open, and he simply didn’t care about pretense. He lived the way he wanted to, and let everything else go. I’m not only going to miss Allan’s friendship, but the continuous reminder that life is to be enjoyed as much as possible while you’ve still got a life to live.
“If there’s one comfort we can take, it’s that Allan didn’t waste a moment of his life on being unhappy. He really lived, and by doing so he probably lived more in his time than most of us will do in eighty or ninety years, should we be so lucky as to have that much time. Allan didn’t talk much about religion, or life after death, either. He was more concerned with enjoying that moment, than worrying about what may or may not happen to him.
“He loved us all, but most of all he loved his daughter. He joked around a lot, but he talked about Cameron all the time. He always carried her pictures around with him, and bragged to anyone who would listen about how well she was doing, how smart she was, and what a great person she had turned out to be.”
Cameron choked on a sob then, unable to continue holding her grief inside because she wondered if it was true, and she desperately wanted it to be. Her argument with her dad, and then her doubts about his concern for her, rose to the surface, strangling her with guilt and pain. She didn’t notice when her mother’s arms came around her shoulders, but she turned automatically into the comfort she offered, her heart breaking as Gilles continued to speak.
“Allan, I don’t think most of us truly appreciated how decent you were. It was easier to think we were all doing things the right way, while you were left behind, but when disaster struck we started to see that maybe you were doing something right. You had your family. You were happy. And until recently the rest of us were behaving like hamsters on a wheel, spending far too much time trying to get ahead for no reason at all.
“We’re going to miss you, Allan. I can only hope I remember to follow some of your example. That all of us remember to do that. Because we’ll all be much happier for it.”
Cameron watched through her tears as Gilles, Chuck, Neil, Billy, Jim, and John, all took hold of the handles on the box her dad would be buried in, and lifted it from its pedestal. She followed numbly, as they carried him through the trees to the place she had picked out with her mother only a few short hours before. They set the box temporarily on the ground, and a lid was put in place. Using ropes they lowered it into the deep hole.
Someone handed her something, which she took with her left hand, not looking down to see what it was. Then her mother led her to the side of the hole and pointed at what she was carrying. Cam stared at the wildflowers as though she had never seen any before in her life. They were somewhat scrawny and unkempt, but yet they were beautiful in a way that reminded her of her dad. No pretense, no overt prettiness. Just that sinewy strength that kept them going when more delicate blooms would die. Except that her dad was dead, and these flowers were dying, too, now that they had been taken from the roots that nourished them.
Cameron tossed the flowers down to scatter across the box that held what used to be her dad, and was now nothing more than an empty vessel that would never again call her, ‘Kiddo,’ or poke her in the ribs and laugh at her.
She watched as they began to shovel the dirt back into the hole. She watched as the box was covered. And she watched as the last bit of dirt was moved and packed down. Then her mother spoke beside her.
“I thought you might like to decide on the marker yourself, whenever you’re ready. None of us will forget where he is in the meantime, but you should be allowed to choose what you want to leave there to honour him.” Cam could only nod her head.
In part as a way to deal with her grief, Cameron decided to continue her lessons with Ian, even though she could only use her left arm. She knew the immediate threat was gone, but having something physical to do made the emotional pain easier to get around for the moment. Their situation was still precarious anyway. Another danger could be lurking around the corner, ready to spring out at one of them at any moment, so she felt better knowing she was doing what was within her power to do.
Eventually the grief would catch up with her, she knew, no matter how fast she ran from it. It was an ever-present shadow, lurking in her thoughts as she went about keeping herself as busy as possible. When she allowed herself to think about her dad at all, she pondered what sort of marker she wanted to leave for him. He’d loved being in the forest, which was why she had chosen that particular spot, but there was no sun for the kinds of flowers they had seeds for. She didn’t want to plant flowers and then have them die.
Finally Cam decided she would use a stone. She spent several days probing the earth with a shovel, holding it with her left hand, and using her foot to shove the blade into the dirt. She scoured the surface of the ground with her eyes, going for long walks over the property to see if she could find a stone she liked. Blake watched her for a while, but finally he asked what she was looking for. When she told him, he started going with her. He took the shovel from her, and would dig holes so she could look deeper.