fine. He just had to deal with the woman.
"What's your name?" Richie asked her.
"Amanda."
"Well, Amanda, whatever we do is going to be better than doing nothing. Once my friends get down here we're gonna try to save your man," Richie explained, "Now tell me what happened."
"You didn't tell me your name," she sniffed.
"I'm Richie. My friends are Elvis and Buddy."
"Really?" Amanda asked, noticing the odd nature of their names.
"Yeah," Richie said, involuntarily smiling a little, "But we're not in a band."
***
"Could you have taken longer?" Richie asked without turning toward his friends as they returned.
"Fuck off," Buddy said mildly as he began laying bandages and medicines out on the floor, "There was blood everywhere. I can't believe we didn't notice all of it."
"It's all clean, Richie. And I found the book we wanted," Elvis told him, holding a small pamphlet for his inspection as he knelt down.
"Thanks, little brother. Does that door lock?"
"It's locked. We almost closed the front doors, but the King here made a good point. If anybody was looking and saw something different, they'd want to check it out."
"Nice."
"Yeah. What's up with our friends?"
Amanda had stepped out of the way of the man, who she said was Alek, as she'd been telling Richie about their problems on that night. Richie had already cut his shirt away and had been looking at his bullet wound by lantern light.
Richie introduced them all without ceremony as he began unrolling a large roll of gauze from the first aid kit and drenched the material with a bottle of peroxide. He held the dark brown container up and aimed the mouth of it toward the gaping hole in Alek's left shoulder.
"He might wake up in a second," Richie guessed, "I need you guys to hold his arms. Amanda, stay where he can see you as soon as his eyes open. I don't want him to freak out on us."
"Gunshot?" Buddy asked.
Amanda nodded as she crouched down and put her face less than a foot from the wounded man's visage. Buddy and Elvis each took one of his arms, being gentle on the wounded side.
"Did it go through?"
"There's a hole in both sides, so I think so. Get ready. This is going to frigging hurt and he might try to jump."
Everyone did as Richie said. When the peroxide hit the entrance of the injury, just north of his shoulder blade, the man moaned without waking. By the time the liquid had flooded the area, turned to a light pink color, and spilled from the other side, he was awake and nearly screaming.
His arms strained to pull away at first, but Amanda's constant flow of reassurance calmed him. He barely knew what was going on, was in an incredible amount of pain, was bleeding profusely, but still trusted her and was able to absorb all of it. That proved, to Richie anyway, that they were more than just acquaintances.
Richie wiped away the fluids with a roll of paper towels and had Elvis hold the wounded arm up so that he could bandage it. First he pressed a wad of the soaked gauze into the wound, actually penetrating the entrance and exit wounds, before taping a square of the stuff over either side to secure the wads. Then he began to wrap the rest of it around and around the area, finally taping it all at the collar bone.
Alek had been conscious up to the point when Richie had pressed the material into the entry wound. He'd passed out with this new agony, revealing that it was even worse than the pain that had roused him.
Elvis and Buddy propped the injured man against the wall again, instead of laying him down, at Richie's urging. They needed to try and keep the bleeding to a minimum, which meant keeping the shoulder higher than the heart. At least Richie thought that would be the case.
"Is he gonna be okay?" Elvis asked.
"I don't know, man. I don't know," Richie answered.
After all, he wasn't a doctor, as he'd already admitted.
***
Richie told Amanda to begin at the beginning. When she started telling them about the night so far, Buddy stopped
"What's your name?" Richie asked her.
"Amanda."
"Well, Amanda, whatever we do is going to be better than doing nothing. Once my friends get down here we're gonna try to save your man," Richie explained, "Now tell me what happened."
"You didn't tell me your name," she sniffed.
"I'm Richie. My friends are Elvis and Buddy."
"Really?" Amanda asked, noticing the odd nature of their names.
"Yeah," Richie said, involuntarily smiling a little, "But we're not in a band."
***
"Could you have taken longer?" Richie asked without turning toward his friends as they returned.
"Fuck off," Buddy said mildly as he began laying bandages and medicines out on the floor, "There was blood everywhere. I can't believe we didn't notice all of it."
"It's all clean, Richie. And I found the book we wanted," Elvis told him, holding a small pamphlet for his inspection as he knelt down.
"Thanks, little brother. Does that door lock?"
"It's locked. We almost closed the front doors, but the King here made a good point. If anybody was looking and saw something different, they'd want to check it out."
"Nice."
"Yeah. What's up with our friends?"
Amanda had stepped out of the way of the man, who she said was Alek, as she'd been telling Richie about their problems on that night. Richie had already cut his shirt away and had been looking at his bullet wound by lantern light.
Richie introduced them all without ceremony as he began unrolling a large roll of gauze from the first aid kit and drenched the material with a bottle of peroxide. He held the dark brown container up and aimed the mouth of it toward the gaping hole in Alek's left shoulder.
"He might wake up in a second," Richie guessed, "I need you guys to hold his arms. Amanda, stay where he can see you as soon as his eyes open. I don't want him to freak out on us."
"Gunshot?" Buddy asked.
Amanda nodded as she crouched down and put her face less than a foot from the wounded man's visage. Buddy and Elvis each took one of his arms, being gentle on the wounded side.
"Did it go through?"
"There's a hole in both sides, so I think so. Get ready. This is going to frigging hurt and he might try to jump."
Everyone did as Richie said. When the peroxide hit the entrance of the injury, just north of his shoulder blade, the man moaned without waking. By the time the liquid had flooded the area, turned to a light pink color, and spilled from the other side, he was awake and nearly screaming.
His arms strained to pull away at first, but Amanda's constant flow of reassurance calmed him. He barely knew what was going on, was in an incredible amount of pain, was bleeding profusely, but still trusted her and was able to absorb all of it. That proved, to Richie anyway, that they were more than just acquaintances.
Richie wiped away the fluids with a roll of paper towels and had Elvis hold the wounded arm up so that he could bandage it. First he pressed a wad of the soaked gauze into the wound, actually penetrating the entrance and exit wounds, before taping a square of the stuff over either side to secure the wads. Then he began to wrap the rest of it around and around the area, finally taping it all at the collar bone.
Alek had been conscious up to the point when Richie had pressed the material into the entry wound. He'd passed out with this new agony, revealing that it was even worse than the pain that had roused him.
Elvis and Buddy propped the injured man against the wall again, instead of laying him down, at Richie's urging. They needed to try and keep the bleeding to a minimum, which meant keeping the shoulder higher than the heart. At least Richie thought that would be the case.
"Is he gonna be okay?" Elvis asked.
"I don't know, man. I don't know," Richie answered.
After all, he wasn't a doctor, as he'd already admitted.
***
Richie told Amanda to begin at the beginning. When she started telling them about the night so far, Buddy stopped
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