Urban Dead: This Means War

[Pcm979]

"What I'd give for an X-Ray machine. We might need some people to hold her down, in that case." Mike shouldered the doors to the makeshift operating room open and rubbed his hands together.

"Lie down, Ace. I'll take it from here."

[Caz]

"Operating room" being a section of the furniture store where they'd nailed some sheets around in partitions. Melanie laid on one of the beds at the back of the store, curled slightly on her side and trying valiantly to keep awake. Not so much because it mattered that she remain conscious but because she dreaded the alternative.

Petro was on the chair beside the bed, covering her hand with one of his while they quietly spoke to one another in tones too hushed for others to hear.

Sherry approached them quietly, then cleared her throat.

"Mike and Ned said they could, ah, handle it..."

[Josh]

"Now?" he asked, looking up. His eyes were still dazed and unfocused, the lingering results of the infection. At least he wasn't dry heaving every time he moved anymore. He turned back to Melanie. "S'time, baby."

[Caz]

Melanie clenched his hand tightly, staring up at him. So soon? Jesus fuck, she hadn't had any time to prepare... her heart started pounding in her ears, but she tried to at least keep herself slightly under control for fear of worrying him.

Sherry crouched down beside Petro, looking into his eyes.

"I promise you that we're going to do every goddamn thing we can, okay? I haven't known Ned long, but as far as Mike goes, I'd put my life in his hands, all right?"

Shoving two fingers into her mouth, she whistled harshly for some of the Blackcaps to come and help transfer her to the 'operating table,' again, term used lightly.

Melanie just clenched her eyes shut, this time wishing she'd just gone to sleep.

As Sherry arrived, Ned was explaining to Mike what they'd have to do as far as removing the contaminent went.

"If we go in through the wound that could cause some nasty fucking damage to the nerve endings down there--and there are a ton. I'll take some measurements and, ehm, see if I can't mark where we'll be going through. On the front, that is. It'll be around her left hip..."

[Pcm979]

Mike nodded and rubbed his eyes. "Let's get started. The sooner we start the sooner it's over."

[Josh]

Petro leaned down to kiss Melanie's forehead. "I'll be waiting for you, baby."

He turned and grabbed Mike's shirt, leaning over to him. "Mike, I know you'll do your best," he said earnestly. "You're the king, man. Thank you."

[Pcm979]

Mike patted his arm and gently but firmy removed Petro's fingers from his lapel. He turned back to Ned.

"Do we have any sort of tranquilizer that won't numb the nerve endings we'll be testing?"

[Josh]

He stepped back, watching, waiting.

[Caz]

"I don't know, man," Ned stammered, shaking his head. "If we fully sedate her, we could chop off the shit that connects her fucking brain to the rest of her and not even know it. She's gotta be able to tell us where it hurts and where it doesn't..."

At his blunt description of what they'd be doing, Melanie's eyes opened wide, her knuckles white as she clenched the sheet beneath her. This wasn't going to be good... this was going to be worse than she'd even thought it would be...

"Hey!" someone shouted, stumbling toward them through the dirty floor and haphazardly-dumped furniture. The boy--Sherry recognized him as one of the newest militia recruits--approached the two medics and, panting, handed them a cloth-wrapped bundle.

"They'refromZimmerman," he breathed, "we boiled 'em and sterilised 'em..."

[Josh]

He'd grabbed for the pistol that wasn't there at the sound, then looked around... where'd his pistol go? He felt naked without it.

[Pcm979]

Mike took the bundle and placed it on a little wheely chair. It was full of surgical instruments, all pointy and sharp and probably quite painful.

"Thanks." He turned back to Ned. "Do we have a local anasthetic? A bullet she can bite? Anything?"

[Caz]

The Scottish boy seemed to pause for a moment, ready to tell Mike to just get it the fuck over with, but that seemed too nasty even to him.

"I'll go see what we've got," he said, "I know we've got some sort of topical that will at least dull the pain in the muscle tissue. It's about as fucking strong as Bengay or IcyHot though. Hell of a lot of good that'll do someone who's getting gutted, though."

He ducked through the curtain.

[Josh]

He decided to kick Ned's ass later.

[Pcm979]

Mike started sorting through the medical implements, putting those he thought he'd need aside, and stifled a yawn. The 1st's biggest FUBAR since the storms, and the people best qualified to do dangerous surgery were an intern and someone who'd majored in experimental biology?

[Caz]

Ironically enough, the fucking registered nurse of the group--the only one with any real surgical experience--was the patient. Reality fucking blew.

Ned ambled back, ducking through the curtain with a hospital barf bin full of various implements: hypodermic needles, topical creams, ampoules of various antitoxins and painkillers. Heavy-duty shit as far as their medical operations went.

As he and Mike began sorting through the bottles, Melanie suddenly propped herself up on her elbows, clearing her throat.

"Look for something labeled Lidocaine or Ropivacaine..."

Ned scrambled through the ampoules, not finding anything. Finally, he held one up and asked, "This says 'Bupivacaine'... will it work?"

She nodded weakly, then instructed. "Inject it just below where you're going to start cutting..."

[Pcm979]

Mike couldn't help smirking at the irony as he followed her instructions. "If you have any more tips, you better spill 'em now." He said as he prepared the incision site with some medicinal alcohol.

[Caz]

"I'm gonna be awake through the whole damned thing," she mourned, laying her head back down. Ned uncerimoniously yanked her jeans down and rolled up the front of her sweater, glad to see that there was a well-formed spot of bruising where Mike had cleaned up. They now had more room to work with, at least.

"That's where we'll be cutting," he said, "means there's damage and that's where we gotta go." He looked to Melanie. "There's three vials of this shit. How much?"

She tried to remember, but in the end was unable to keep herself focused and just guessed.

"Two full shots... one before you cut and one after you've clamped..."

If it killed her it'd be her own damn fault, right?

Without asking her when, Ned jammed the needle down below the bruising, depressing the syringe and removing it as Melanie cried out in shock and pain, curling her hands into tight fists.

"Mike," she said, beads of sweat from her anxiety beginning to form on her forehead, "there shouldn't be much major blood flow here... clamp where you have to--it's just like in the diagrams--" her voice was getting higher as she tried not to panic, "I know you can do this..."

And even as they began the cutting, she could still feel it, but she just told herself that soon enough, the pain would at least feel far away.

[Pcm979]

Mike moved quickly and efficiently, clamping the major blood vessels and clipping the wound open so they could fish around inside easily. He did his best to block out Melanie's occasional whimpers; It helped if he pretended she was another medical doll they'd practised on when he was getting his qualifications.

Ned sliced through the muscle tissue and started digging around for the shrapnel.

Melanie spoke up in a strained, anxious voice. "If you see something that looks like bundled electrical wire, those are live nerves... please don't fucking cut them."

"Really?" Mike snapped, uncharacteristically abrasive. "I was hoping we could get cable with them." He really didn't want to fuck this up, and it showed.

[Caz]

Ohgodohgodohgod that hurt. She did her best to keep quiet, to keep still... thinking the localised nerve-duller would have done a better job, instead it only took the edge off, making the pain just bearable enough to the point of not passing out.

Ned had managed to detach himself from reality at that point, working only on the fact that if he didn't keep this wound clean it was going to hurt a lot more than just the patient. He'd seen how protective that other redhead was... the thought made his collar seem to tighten considerably as he squared his jaw while working.

"Good, good," he said to Mike, "the blood flow's not as bad as I thought it would be..." As in, you're better at this than I thought. Thanks.

Suddenly, as he carefully cut through the outer layers of muscle tissue, something beneath his scalpel burst and dark, old blood bubbled up into the wound. They'd reached where the knife had entered, effectively making a hole straight through her.

"If you can hold the bleeding, I'll give her that second shot..."

However, before he could do so, he spied a glint of something in the rusty water that Mike was pouring into the wound, dabbing up with a cloth to keep clean.

"I see it!" Ned announced, nearly toppling the whole nightstand as he scrambled for a pair of tweezers. "I fucking see it!"

Careful to keep his trembling hands as steady as possible, he closed the tweezers around the debris and yanked. Hard. Blood gushed upward into the incision as it came clean free. Melanie's back arched as she screamed--she hadn't even known pain like that existed--before mercifully, there was nothing but a vague, fuzzy darkness.

[Pcm979]

Well, she'd passed out; It was almost worth it, although the writhing and screaming hadn't helped much. Now it was time to clean the wound, patch up the blood vessels sliced by the knife, and then undo all the damage they'd done getting there in the first place. Mike had done that sort of thing a hundred times since the outbreak, but it could still go horribly wrong if not handled properly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He stepped back from the 'operating table' and wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve, not doing much more than smearing blood over his face. He clapped Ned on the shoulder.

"Great fucking work." He grinned as the post-tension endorphins rushed through his system.

[Josh]

Somebody had brought him a bucket of clean water, soap, and a sponge, and the lack of self-consciousness coming from their cramped conditions, he'd shucked his clothes and begun washing off. Fresh clothes had also materialized, and he was starting to vaguely feel human again. He was just reaching for the razor when Melanie screamed her head off...

[Caz]

Ned, not having believed that he'd just fucking did that, looked very pale. He grinned at Mike as steadily as he could, then promply took a few steps toward the curtain before doubling over and dry heaving.

As they parted the curtains, everyone but of course the patient exiting the room, Sherry was at Mike's heels, noting the red display all over his hands and face. She said nothing, only followed him, knowing that he'd tell her only when he was ready to.

[Josh]

Petro stood naked in front of Mike, straight razor in hand.

"Well?" he demanded.

[Pcm979]

Mike raised his eyebrows. "Jane's fine, Tarzan. But you've misplaced your loincloth."

[Josh]

His shoulders slumped with relief, the sarcasm not even registering. "Thanks," he said, waving the razor around carelessly. "Any idea on...?"

Whether she'd walk again was the question.