Chapter 4: “Far From Home” Five Finger Death Punch
Lexi:
Everyone in the club is on edge as we wait for an update. They told us an hour ago to clear out of the main rooms because we were expecting casualties, including Sadist. He was the only one we had word on. The room was instantly stripped of its tables and thoroughly cleaned to what felt like a hospital room in the span of an hour it took for the men to make it back.
The women who had cleaned the main portion of the club went to work on the bedrooms and bathrooms next. Part of me thought that it actually gave them a chance to clean up the guy’s rooms anyway to rid the place of the odor of skank. I was part of the crew working in the kitchen on meals for everyone. Just because everything went wrong at once doesn’t mean these men and the rest of the club could go hungry.
Bree and I make a great team when it comes to food. We both know how and love to cook. We set to work in making a large meal that could feed a massive amount of people trying to keep our minds off the situation before us. Chicken soup for the wounded and fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy and bacon-green beans and corn for everyone else. We had it completed just as the men started arriving, and the call goes out over the clubs intercom system “We need all able bodied people to come assist in bringing in the casualties.” I step up. I’m short but if I can pick up a motorcycle from the ground with little help I could help bring in a few men and help where needed.
Leaving the building I’m not as prepared as I’d hoped for what I’d see. The scene is organized chaos as members are being brought out of various vehicles being triaged and sent in, based on their need of care. Blood was already coating the ground staining the tan dirt red. Out of the sixty members that had ridden out, three were dead, and at least twenty wounded. Because of our life style, we can’t go to hospitals. All emergency care is provided here at home base. We all pitch in, and take the seriously wounded first. We had already called in our chapter’s doctors and medics, but they were still minutes out.
Bree had run out to find D amidst the chaos and luckily he was one of the unharmed. He was starting to take another person out off a large black van. “Alexis!” I spin in the direction of my name being called. Mercy is laying down Gage, a prospect, on a makeshift stretcher. Gages face is pale as I run up to them. “Lexi keep pressure on his leg. No matter how much he screams or moves do not loosen your grip!” I do as I’m told, surprised to see Gage come out of his shock a bit and immediately start flailing. It was like holding on to a bucking bull. I walk along side as he’s carried in. One of the men throws an actual tourniquet at me and explains how to put it on. For my first one I don’t think I did a bad job I put it above the wound as instructed. Pulled the tab tight as I could. Locked it down and twisted the handle. Blood had ceased its flow. I’m told I can go help others, that Gage was top of the list to be seen. I head back out two or three times before being called back to the van I had seen D at earlier. Out of stretchers, I was told to help bring in the last patient. Ky.
I walk up to the van as Pinky is attempting to haul him out. Ky’s head is sagging to his chest. An oxygen mask covers his nose and mouth. The floor of the van under him is coated with blood that has pooled and is starting to coagulate making it ooze and shake like Jell-O with the vans movements, my stomach is churning from the sight and smell.
Pinky looks at me “You don't have time to puke. He’s in and out of consciousness and he refused painkillers so he’s not too fun to be around when he comes to. Help me get him inside.” Ky’s head rolls to the opposite side as Pinky shifts him up and forward, I can see the blood seeping through his bandaged shoulder. His upper body is slick and coated in it since his shirt had been cut off. Ky mumbles something about “needing to get to his soldiers” as we trade places with me taking him from under the shoulders and Pinky grabbing his legs. Pinky hearing Ky’s comment, eyes the unconscious man for second with a look on his face I can’t place, his eyes flick to me before looking away. Refusing to look Pinky in the eye, I lean down and whisper to Ky
“Shhh, your soldiers are safe.” He seems to settle a little. Satisfied where ever he is in his head, as we continue our way into the building.
Because of my height, parts of Ky drag on the ground as we enter the doors of the club. Once inside we are instructed to put him on the table on the far side of the room because he needs surgery.
“Why did he refuse pain medication?” I huff as we drag Ky’s dead weight to the other side of the room.
“He gets sick from them. And they don’t work or if they do it's not very long. He metabolizes it too quickly,” Pinky says. We finally get him up to the table. I eye his shoulder and Pinky eyes me. “He was shot from behind twice. He’s not out of it from the pain he’s out of it from blood loss right now.” he takes a breath his eyes taking me in gauging how much he should say “He will be fine. He’s already had a blood donation.” Pinky says smacking his bandaged arm before returning to get Ky settled on the table. “First one was a through and through and the second has to be debrided to have the bullet and shrapnel dug out and removed.” I begin to feel the room spin imagining it all. Doc Cross shows up in newly cleaned clothes.
“Ah the infamous Miss Alexis. I see you going down quick. But I need your help a bit longer. By any chance do you know your blood type?” I look up
“O negative” A look crosses his face. I know that look because every doctor I’ve ever been to tells me I’m a universal blood donor.
“Would you be willing to donate today?” I shrug. If I can help save a life I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I still have to be cool about it.
“Sure, hook me up.”