water, medicine…”
“Water would be nice.”
At least he’s straightforward, he thought, taking a step into the vehicle.
A moment later, after combing through the packs and finding the first aid kit and a bottle of water, Dakota stepped out of the bus kneeled at Ian’s side. He popped the cap off the water, tipped it to the man’s lips, then got to work, first sterilizing, then applying cotton over the wound—which, though not completely severe, would not fare well if left untreated.
“Where did you come from?” Dakota asked, measuring a length of bandage.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, where were you guys?”
“North. In the city.”
“What’s up there?”
“Zombies,” Ian said. “Cars. Some food. A few guns.”
“I’m guessing there’s not much more than that.”
“Nope. Not at all.” Ian paused when Dakota began to wrap his arm up. “You know where you guys are going?”
“Steve said south.”
“Toward the army base?”
“I forgot there was an army base down there,” Dakota said.
“We’re not going to the base,” Steve said, slamming the hood down. “At least, not yet.”
“Your buddy doesn’t have a clue where to go,” Ian whispered. “Does he?”
“No one knows a lot of anything,” Dakota sighed. He pinned the bandage into place and began to reload everything into the kit. “We’re just trying to figure out where to go.”
“You care if I come with?”
“He’s not coming with!” Steve called out. “Not after what he did.”
“He’s not an asshole,” Dakota whispered. “He wouldn’t leave you here.”
Ian snorted.
You may not trust him, Dakota thought, but even you wouldn’t leave behind someone like him.
No. He wouldn’t leave Ian here, especially not after what had happened three years ago, when he came home from the desert with a mark on his heart and his hand to his chest. Three bones had been broken.
A soldier was no use if he couldn’t fire his gun.
“You won’t leave him here,” Dakota whispered. “You won’t.”
Steve looked up from a map on the table. “Bullshit I won’t.”
“His arm’s a mess, Steve. He can’t fend for himself.”
“He’s an ignorant prick who let someone bully him into doing something he didn’t want to do. I’m not taking him with us. Besides, his arm’s fine. It’s just a flesh wound.”
“Just like yours was?”
Steve froze. His eyes rose and his jaw clenched together. “You’re telling me,” he began a moment later, “that my arm was just a flesh wound?”
“It wouldn’t have killed you.”
“My arm was almost amputated because it was so bad.”
“It wouldn’t have killed you though.”
“You’re not getting the point. My humerus was almost snapped in half, and you’re saying it couldn’t’ve killed me? That’s bullshit and you know it. I could’ve bled to death.”
“Steve—”
“I love how you’ve just turned this situation around just to make me look like an asshole.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“I don’t give a fuck, Dakota. It’s bad enough that you want to take an ex con with us, but now you’re belittling my injury? I could’ve died out there.”
“Look,” Dakota said, raising a hand. Steve tried to slap it aside, but Dakota took a steady hold of his friend’s upper arm, sighing when his thumb traced the ugly scar under his shirtsleeve. “I’m just…confused, not sure what to do.”
“We leave him.”
“We can’t just leave him here. That’s like…like what they did to you.”
“My unit thought I was dead.”
“They still would’ve left you behind if you hadn’t called to them.”
Steve remained silent. Head bowed and eyes closed, he reached up to grip Dakota’s arm. He took hold of his wrist and gently pried it away, careful not to apply any unneeded pressure.
“It still hurts,” Dakota said, “doesn’t it?”
“It always hurts,” Steve muttered. “It’s always gonna hurt.”
“I’m just glad you’re
“Water would be nice.”
At least he’s straightforward, he thought, taking a step into the vehicle.
A moment later, after combing through the packs and finding the first aid kit and a bottle of water, Dakota stepped out of the bus kneeled at Ian’s side. He popped the cap off the water, tipped it to the man’s lips, then got to work, first sterilizing, then applying cotton over the wound—which, though not completely severe, would not fare well if left untreated.
“Where did you come from?” Dakota asked, measuring a length of bandage.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, where were you guys?”
“North. In the city.”
“What’s up there?”
“Zombies,” Ian said. “Cars. Some food. A few guns.”
“I’m guessing there’s not much more than that.”
“Nope. Not at all.” Ian paused when Dakota began to wrap his arm up. “You know where you guys are going?”
“Steve said south.”
“Toward the army base?”
“I forgot there was an army base down there,” Dakota said.
“We’re not going to the base,” Steve said, slamming the hood down. “At least, not yet.”
“Your buddy doesn’t have a clue where to go,” Ian whispered. “Does he?”
“No one knows a lot of anything,” Dakota sighed. He pinned the bandage into place and began to reload everything into the kit. “We’re just trying to figure out where to go.”
“You care if I come with?”
“He’s not coming with!” Steve called out. “Not after what he did.”
“He’s not an asshole,” Dakota whispered. “He wouldn’t leave you here.”
Ian snorted.
You may not trust him, Dakota thought, but even you wouldn’t leave behind someone like him.
No. He wouldn’t leave Ian here, especially not after what had happened three years ago, when he came home from the desert with a mark on his heart and his hand to his chest. Three bones had been broken.
A soldier was no use if he couldn’t fire his gun.
“You won’t leave him here,” Dakota whispered. “You won’t.”
Steve looked up from a map on the table. “Bullshit I won’t.”
“His arm’s a mess, Steve. He can’t fend for himself.”
“He’s an ignorant prick who let someone bully him into doing something he didn’t want to do. I’m not taking him with us. Besides, his arm’s fine. It’s just a flesh wound.”
“Just like yours was?”
Steve froze. His eyes rose and his jaw clenched together. “You’re telling me,” he began a moment later, “that my arm was just a flesh wound?”
“It wouldn’t have killed you.”
“My arm was almost amputated because it was so bad.”
“It wouldn’t have killed you though.”
“You’re not getting the point. My humerus was almost snapped in half, and you’re saying it couldn’t’ve killed me? That’s bullshit and you know it. I could’ve bled to death.”
“Steve—”
“I love how you’ve just turned this situation around just to make me look like an asshole.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“I don’t give a fuck, Dakota. It’s bad enough that you want to take an ex con with us, but now you’re belittling my injury? I could’ve died out there.”
“Look,” Dakota said, raising a hand. Steve tried to slap it aside, but Dakota took a steady hold of his friend’s upper arm, sighing when his thumb traced the ugly scar under his shirtsleeve. “I’m just…confused, not sure what to do.”
“We leave him.”
“We can’t just leave him here. That’s like…like what they did to you.”
“My unit thought I was dead.”
“They still would’ve left you behind if you hadn’t called to them.”
Steve remained silent. Head bowed and eyes closed, he reached up to grip Dakota’s arm. He took hold of his wrist and gently pried it away, careful not to apply any unneeded pressure.
“It still hurts,” Dakota said, “doesn’t it?”
“It always hurts,” Steve muttered. “It’s always gonna hurt.”
“I’m just glad you’re