Left 2 Die: Part 2
Left 2 Die: Part 2
They didn’t speak. Reid just followed the interstate dutifully out of the city. They didn’t even think of a destination. They just fled. Luke was entrusting his life to a man he barely knew, who had been tracked down by the U.S. military and had just used a grenade to escape from them. He still didn’t say a word. He was lost in the comforting feeling of another person’s body.
It was almost peaceful, and Luke wanted to stay with his head resting on this man’s back forever. Clinging with one arm, he left his head lying against the bloody back watching the passing trees with lazy interest. He tried to imagine that it was Noah, who was driving the motorcycle, and this was just them eloping, and none of the past month, or even the past year, had occurred. But as far as he knew Noah had never even gone near a motorcycle, let alone knew how to drive one. The image in his mind collapsed and he saw the bloody and ravaged Dr. Oliver who was unresponsive to his advances. He lessened his hold shouting over the whir of passing wind.
“We need to stop and tend to our wounds!”The doctor didn’t answer. A sign up ahead signaled a small town called Derby and Luke felt them lean toward the exit. It seemed the town had not benefited by being close to the highway at all. It was a very small town. Abandoned cars littered the small streets but not nearly enough to fill the parking lot of the local drug store.
The place looked like any litany of horror movies Noah had at one point made him sit through. This is exactly where zombie movies should start - creepy small towns like his own and like this one. The houses were a little further down from the central square they had entered. They were off of the back roads and in between the thick woodland areas. Reid plunged through dense trees and found a couple of houses nestled together. They all looked pretty abandoned. No cars were in any of the driveways, and garage doors seemed to have been left open in the rush to leave. They were all big two-story houses so Luke pointed to the biggest and they parked the motorcycle neatly within the driveway. The front door was unlocked and they let themselves in to a very old house. The doors and floor boards squeaked and the handles jiggled. Even though it should have seemed scary it was welcoming and warm.
Luke felt at ease. He usually disliked staying in houses. He avoided them when he could, and it was easy as not many houses were built next to the interstate. When he did he tried not to pry. Luke just had an inkling that its owner could come back at any moment; dead or alive. These things had been cherished and loved and he didn’t feel right using them knowing full well he wouldn’t like anybody setting up residence at his own house. It was a habit he knew he should let go because safety was a first priority. More importantly he was dirty, wounded and tired. Maybe he deserved to stay in such a comfortable place for once.
Now that he was inside the grand house he couldn’t help but lay his eyes on every picture and knick knack. He couldn’t help himself. He was naturally a curious being, another reason to avoid houses, in his opinion. Covering the walls along the hallway leading into a living room he saw a family grow from a first child to multiple birthdays, graduations, weddings and grandchildren. This house seemed to have seen it all, and was happy to have life within its walls once again. They quickly set to searching the immediate areas, and all the rooms. They found a generator that worked, and knew they had hit the jackpot. With that they blocked entrances and windows, before Luke collapsed in the comfortable living room. The AC in that room had kicked on with a splutter and was now delivering a shivering cold into the already chilly room. Luke walked over and turned it off. The seasons were changing fast and already the air was getting a fierce bite. It didn’t bode well for the rest of Luke’s trek, but he had more pressing matters to think about.
The doctor was standing in the middle of the room, but had not said anything yet. The heavy atmosphere settled comfortably over them as neither knew what to say. The doctor slightly shivered, still just clad in jeans, his shirt and jacket having been torn off during their escape. Luke held his dislocated arm tightly thinking of how to even start. He was about to take his own jacket off and offer it when the doctor glanced over at him, struggling with the jacket.
He very sheepishly said, “I’m sorry. I should have popped your arm back into place a long time ago.” Reid approached the younger man, but Luke instinctively pulled away. The doctor frowned, angrily adding. “What now?” Luke really didn’t want to piss the doctor off, but he couldn’t blindly trust the man, either. No matter how much he really wanted to.
“Who are you?”
The doctor scowled. “I think we’ve already been through this. Do you have amnesia; because that’s a serious symptom of brain damage?” The doctor retorted.
“You know what I mean. Who are you; really? You can’t be just some ordinary doctor.”
“I’m not. I’m a world renowned neurosurgeon.”
“Can I even trust that answer?” Luke raked a hand through his hair stepping a little further away from the doctor. “That guy with the army looked more like a doctor.”
Oliver puffed up, very much offended. “Why do people think that just because you wear a lab coat it automatically makes you a professional? For all we know it’s a costume that comes paired with a sexy nurse outfit!”
“Then why are they after you? Why were you so ready to throw a grenade in their faces?”
“They had guns! Of course, I was going to defend myself.”
“Are you a criminal or something?”
“What?”
“Why else is the U.S. Army after you.”
“Get something straight. The world we knew before this incident is long gone. Cell phones are not going to get their signal back. Hell, we’ll be lucky to get some landlines working. The government is not running the army anymore. We don’t have a government, and even if we did they’d be hard pressed to find any way of reaching the thousands of survivors left who even give a crap. People are doing things out of their own sense of moral standing and my moral standing is not equivalent to that of Channing’s and his pet soldiers. Nobody tells Reid Oliver what to do, I’d rather die first.”
“Well what happened then to get you mixed in with those people? The immediate aftermath of the incident was chaos. Anybody who was reluctant to shoot a gun, to defend themselves, they were the first to go. You never even fired a gun until last night! What have you been doing for a month? Hiding? Or were you being held by the military? Did you escape?”
Reid angrily pulled at his face. It was obvious Luke was really starting to annoy him. He finally kind of shrugged, and said exasperated, “Essentially, yes.”
“Essentially? What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that’s all I’m going to tell you about this subject. Now, stop being stupid and let me set your arm.”
“Not until you tell me what the hell that doctor had you doing. Experiments?” The doctor’s eyes widened his face suddenly grim, as he approached Luke.
“Mr. Snyder I am a mad scientist whose experiment got out of hand. My poor wife dead at thirty! I couldn’t take the sadness and utter loneliness. I tried to bring her back, but things got out of hand. I defied god!” He waved his hands around dramatically and Luke slapped them away, not amused in the slightest. Harshly Luke said, “That’s not true.”
The doctor crossed his arms, frowning slightly. “You are correct. No one has captured this confirmed bachelor.”
“Get serious! This is no time for jokes.”
Reid exploded. “This is a perfect time for jokes! I’ve been shitting bricks the past few days. I think this is a perfect time to try and lighten the god damned mood. There are no walking dead around, or gun toting soldiers, or ‘holier than thou’ veterinarians who call themselves brain surgeons.” The doctor flinched as a gash in his shoulder reopened, blood oozing out over dried patches of red.
“Crap, your arm.” Luke reached and touched him but the doctor was still fuming.
“Sit down!” Luke didn’t know why he had obliged so quickly. It was that professional tone again. He sat on the edge of the couch his heart pounding angrily. “Now sit still.” Dr. Oliver demanded. Luke thought the doctor was just going to set his arm, but instead he pulled his medical bag to his side and gave Luke an overall check up. He popped the thermometer into his mouth, and took Luke’s jacket off to begin scrutinizing the gunshot/dislocated arm. His meticulous fingers worked as he spoke softly. It was the same voice from the hazy memories of unconsciousness; he found it hard to protest against it. His voice was mesmerizing.
“Does this hurt?” Luke had hardly noticed Dr. Oliver’s prodding around his wound but he winced, “Yeah, actually.”
Dr. Oliver almost gave a small smile as he continued speaking. “The brain is an amazing piece of work.” Luke could feel the doctor’s hot breath against his skin as he applied antiseptic and new bandages. He also began to feel a deep painful throbbing. “This should have been killing you from the pain.” Now that the danger had passed the pain began to multiply, and soon it felt like a dull ache. He couldn’t believe he had been ignoring this during their whole escape. Luke willed himself not to yell as the pain amplified, and soon he was blinking away tears. The doctor tightened the bandaging and soothingly reassured him, “Now now, Mr. Snyder, don’t clench.” The rest of his body seemed to be bombarding his brain with information about bruises, scrapes and cuts he was just now becoming aware of. It was overwhelming. He tried to just focus on the deep rumble of Dr. Oliver’s voice instead of the horrible state his body was in.
Reid continued like he was talking to a child, “I consider you my patient.” He began massaging Luke’s shoulder. Up and down in soft rhythmic motions. Luke suddenly felt weak in the knees and was grateful to be sitting down. Softly Reid continued, “And I’m determined to nurse you to perfect health.” He was feeling a little light headed, and conceded it was probably from the pain. The doctor stopped one hand at the crook of Luke’s neck, “I am your doctor; aren’t I?”
He thought that was a strange question. Of course, at this point Reid was kind of like his doctor. Not specifically his, as though he owned him. That would be strange and very inappropriate for a doctor and patient to be. Luke tore his eyes away from a fixed location on the floor and looked at the doctor. His pale eyes stood out at such a close proximity, even in the dim living room light. He had blotches of blood and dirt smeared to his face, and Luke wanted to wipe it away. His fingers twitched on his good hand, and for some reason he licked his lips anxiously. “I….”
This time he really did yell. The popping sound was almost as bad as the pain. No. The pain was worse. The doctor stood up flexing the fingers in his hands, dully responding to Luke’s anguished groans, “I said not to clench.” The doctor had swiftly popped the arm back into place before Luke could even register what had happened.
“Why didn’t you warn me?” His yells were muffled within couch cushions.
“What did you think I was going to do? I’ve been telling you since we got here that I was going to reset your arm.” The soft almost husky voice was gone and the doctor sounded like a prick once again. He put his hands on his hips looking at Luke as if he was being overdramatic.
“Look I feel responsible for your health. By taking you off of that overpass I made you my patient without your consent. So I ask again, are you my patient? Do you want me to continue treating you, like a doctor?” The thermometer had fallen from his mouth when Luke had yelled and the doctor snatched it back. He looked at it and rolled his eyes putting it away in his bag. He then proceeded to walk around the room giving Luke expectant glares from time to time. He yanked the lacy, floral, table cloth off of the dining table before asking, “Well?” Luke watched the doctor fold it expertly, holding his paining arm and feeling slightly taken aback.
“You act as if we can’t be more than just patient and doctor?” He knew as soon as the words left his mouth they had sounded weird. Even Reid cocked his head slightly, raising an expectant eyebrow. Luke stumbled on his words, feeling awkward, tired and just general misery. “I mean we’re allies, friends. Aren’t we?”
Reid vigorously shook his head. “We can’t be friends Mr. Snyder. This is temporary. I helped you out, you helped me out and as soon as you’re healthy you’ll be on your way. I’m not going to join you so we can have a gay little adventure together. I have somewhere I’m headed too. No reason to get attached.” He said it so matter-of-factly that Luke felt stupid. Stupid for thinking he had made even the slightest impact on the doctor. Reid stood uncomfortably close.
“Will you let me be your doctor?”
“I guess I have to say yes.”
“So, yes?”
Luke nodded angrily, “Yes, yes.”
“Good.” The doctor bent over him. At first Luke thought he was going to kiss him, and the butterflies in his stomach exploded. Instead the doctor was tying the two ends of the table cloth around his neck. He smelled awful, a mixture of iron and sweat. Luke was glad when he pulled away, if not a little disappointed it hadn’t been a hug. The doctor looked sternly at him.
“Well that works half as much as I thought it would. Just keep your arm in that sling and in a few days you should be fine. The gunshot wound is healing better than I expected. It could have easily been infected but I got to you in time. Also, I would advise you, as your doctor, to not ask me any more questions about today.” He clapped his hands and went towards the stairs. “Now I’m going to see if there is any water still running. Hopefully I can get rid of this awful smell.”
“But…” He didn’t actually have anything to say. He was at a loss for words actually. Luke was both angry and hurt for being brushed off as just another patient to the big shot doctor so he scrambled for words. “You said not to use the water.”
“I’m not going to drink it and I won’t marinate myself in it. I just need to wipe myself down.” He turned to retreat into the upper floor, but Luke quickly caught him with a shout. He struggled to stand as he asked, “What about your own wounds?”
The doctor came to a stop, visibly swearing. Turning to look down from the landing he questioned, “What about them?”
Painfully Luke adjusted his arm into the makeshift sling, “I saw bite marks.” His tone was a mixture of worry and anxiousness.
“I’m a neurosurgeon Mr. Snyder. I can take care of a couple of skin abrasions.”
Luke held the banister as he rounded the bottom of the stairs looking up at the thoroughly annoyed doctor. “What if you’re infected?”
“If you think this is like in video games and movies you’re wrong. Unless I somehow got some of their blood in a wound I’ll be fine. They were much more preoccupied with tearing me apart than trying to stab me with a used needle or something like that.”
“Alright well, they’re all over your back. Do you need me to help you with them?” Luke wasn’t sure why he was being so persistent. Or maybe he did know but he just didn’t want to think about it. The doctor gave him a strange look as he shifted uncomfortably.
“Look, what I was kind of trying to say before is that the only relationship we’re going to share is doctor patient. I won’t be your friend and I won’t be that for you either.” He paused for a second hoping what he had said had sunken in before disappearing into the upstairs wing, leaving Luke’s mouth agape. When Reid popped his head back over the railing just two seconds later Luke hadn’t even moved a muscle.
“Do you mind seeing if these hillbillies have any clothes we could change into? No offense, but you don’t smell like a bed of roses either. And as much as I like being half naked it’s starting to get rather chilly. I’ll be quick in the shower.” He was gone before Luke could even string together a sentence.
The phone in his pocket felt a little heavy, and he became acutely aware of the pain cursing through his body. He was done. He wished he had never met this doctor. It had only caused him more pain than traveling alone had. He stiffly made it up the stairs. When he passed the bathroom door he stopped. He took hold of the knob before he had even thought about it, images of a naked doctor appearing in his pain induced delirium.
He stumbled back knocking into the wooden paneling, and hurriedly rushed down the corridor. He burst into the last room on the landing, and closed the door behind him. He had found the master bedroom. The musky smell of rot had already set in, and as he sat down on the large four poster bed he kicked up dust from the comforter. A couple’s life was laid out on the dresser across from the bed. He was never meant to see pictures of a young couple standing at the Grand Canyon, or the couple sharing a piece of cake, on their wedding day, or the couple kissing tenderly from a hospital bed, a small baby lying in the mother’s arm. Moments he didn’t think he would have had before the zombie apocalypse now were so far from his reach he mourned them. He felt tears dampening his eyes, and he pulled his phone out. The phone was quiet in his hand. No matter how much he willed for it to ring it just sat there.
“What am I doing, Noah?” His voice cracked, tears flowing heavily before he could wipe them away. He laid down on the bed, trying to adjust his arm into a resting position, but it hurt no matter where he put it. Ignoring it he flipped the phone open staring at his dark haired boyfriend’s picture. The warmth of his memories was never strong enough to pull him out of this cold misery. Finally he just gave up to sleep. It was much easier than having to think about the present.