Urban Dead: But At My Back I'll Always Hear...

[Pcm979]

Mike reached into one of his deep pockets and took out a crumpled packet, obviously looted from a pharmacy. He popped two pills out and handed them to her.

"Here. Two Panadol. Call me in the morning, don't use heavy machinery, yadda yadda."

[Caz]

"Won't make me loopy, will it?" she asked. Because she needed to be mentally at her best right now. She needed to plan, to organize, to keep things straight between the blackcaps before they could feud amongst themselves...

"Cause my schedule's a bit full these next few days."

[Pcm979]

"Nah, you'll be fine. I don't suppose The Doctor can ask you to take it easy for a few days, then?"

[Caz]

"I think we'd both like that, Doctor, however the situation calls for the opposite." She shrugged as though saying, 'what could I do, ya know?' and took the capsules dry.

"You know what they say: no rest for the wicked and the righteous don't need it. Or however that sayin' went..." she couldn't remember shit like that at this point.

[Pcm979]

"Yeah, and my favorite saying is, "All sayings are bullcrap." The book of Mike, 19:94."

[Caz]

She laughed heartily, shaking her head. "You continually surprise me, sir," she said. The closest thing she had to a stamp of approval for a person: not boring her.

"Perhaps you and I could start working on a contingency for winter, as well, in the spare time. I probably won't go out scouting again for a few days--maybe even a week--as I'm training the young bucks, so to speak."

[Pcm979]

Mike bowed, making sure he didn't spill the coffee, which was worth more to him at the moment than all the money in the world.

"Yeah. I think we should start scrounging stuff for the winter now. Before the rush, as it were. Once the cold snap starts, you won't be able to find a scarf in Malton."

[Caz]

"There's a hunting and sport shop a few blocks from here," she said, "Petro and I raided it for ammo a few weeks back." But of course, being summer, they'd left things like tents, coats, and the like. And they'd no doubt still be there.

"We can go check it out in a few days if you want," she offered.

[Pcm979]

"As long as I don't have anything pressing. Let me see. Tomorrow I'm going to a dinner party, Thursday I've got to drop my tax forms off... Friday sound good?"

[Caz]

She laughed. "Sounds good to me," was the response.

After a moment, her expression faltered, and she looked to him.

"Do you think we could get Ace to watch Colin while we're gone?"

[Pcm979]

"Hey, I don't think we could prize him away if we wanted to. Trust me, there isn't a better place in Malton for Colin to be."

[Caz]

She smiled sadly, nodding in agreement with Mike on that one. He was right. She'd probably stop by and spend some time with the boy as soon as she and Mike were finished.

"Hope so," was all she said on the subject for a few minutes, finally adding: "Thank you for taking care of him. It means a lot to him... To me." She looked to him earnestly, mismatched eyes glistening a bit. "Even if he doesn't make it... At least we can keep him from feeling," her voice broke, quieted, "from feeling much of anything I guess."

She curled and uncurled her hands, keeping her breathing even. The last thing she needed to do was lose it at this point. She just wanted the kid to wake up. So badly that it almost blinded her to everything else.

"I found a few things in the bookstore upstairs... Figured I could go read to him later tonight."

[Pcm979]

Mike patted her on the shoulder. "You do that." She's pretty close to the edge, he mused. I might have to talk to Petro, get her some 'time off'.

[Caz]

She nodded, standing and brushing her hair back.

"Would it be all right to go in now?" she asked quietly, grabbing one of the books from the desk and holding it to her chest. She couldn't stand the idea of leaving the kid alone. Especially now that she'd really had a few days to gauge how he was doing.

[Pcm979]

"Be my guest. Hit Ace with the book if he tries to shoo you out."

[Caz]

She chuckled a bit, thanking him quietly and heading toward the furniture store where they'd set up the infirmary due to the abundance of beds. Ace didn't appear to be around at any rate, probably tending to someone else, and she moved to the corner of the large room where the boy laid, pale and motionless. He hadn't regained consciousness since losing it at the post office and she secretly doubted he would, despite her hope.

"Hey you," she said, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. She brushed his bangs behind his ears, noting sadly how cold he was to the touch. But still the breath was there, tickling over her palm.

She clasped his hand, began to read from the book: the collected short stories of Ernest J. Gaines.

After a few hours, she looked up and brushed her hand over his face again, letting him know that she was there. That she would be up until the very end. Her voice was low, quiet as she read:

I made my home in glory;
I shall not be moved.
Made my home in glory;
I shall not be moved.
Just like a tree that's
planted 'side the water.
Oh, I shall not be moved...

She continued reading until her voice was but a whisper. And as she did so, she brushed her thumb over the boy's hand. As her voice trailed off, losing the words as she took a sharp breath, trying not to choke up because emotional was something she knew kept her from performing at her peak. But as she felt the weak pulse in the boy's wrist suddenly stall, then flutter away entirely, she held back an anguished wail.

[Pcm979]

It was no use. If they had a defibrilator, if they'd had an IV drip for the blood he'd lost, if. If if if.

God damnit. You couldn't even give someone a proper burial in Malton. All you could do was chuck them into the streets, and hope you didn't have to kill them again in a few days' time.