Necrocide

Chapter 73

Night had fallen on the Dead Zone. Floodlights and torches brightened the desolate streets of Longridge, and barbed wire and executed Deadmen hanging from poles warded off the undead enemies of the DZI. It was a miracle their defenses worked, because all of their new injuries just made them easier targets for both the living and the undead.

The DZI converted an old, abandoned medical clinic near the town hall into their infirmary. They brought a few medics from Matheson to care for the wounded but rarely had to deal with any life-threatening injuries. If they were quick enough, doctors could even transfuse infected blood out of a bitten soldier and stitch the wound up before the turning process could begin.

Today, however, was not that kind of day. Entire limbs were lost, and a few soldiers died during the return to Longridge. Others were infected for too long and had to be euthanized via MercyMark. It had been a while since the DZI had so much fatalities, yet they comprehended the impact since it only ever got so devastating when an Abnormal was involved.

Fortunately, Kat and Jonah endured and survived. Even Shaw and Schaefer went through hell and back. However, Jonah had a massive incision carving across his left arm near his shoulder as a result of Bloodletter's crimson saw blades.

"A part of me kind of wishes it hit my brain," Jonah said, glancing at the wound. He sat shirtless on a stretcher in the main lobby of the infirmary. "That way I wouldn't need more stitches. This shit hurts, bruv."

"That's the problem," Kat replied as she approached Jonah with a gauze and some alcohol. "You need a brain first before you can blow it out of your skull."

"Clever," Jonah said sarcastically. "Also, I technically saved you from that bloodletting bastard, so you're welcome."

"Technically, I wasn't even in the line of fire of that saw blade and your injury was completely avoidable. But thank you."

Jonah smiled. "I'm so glad we're friends."

"I agree," she replied with a cheerful grin. She then screwed the cap off the bottle of alcohol and soaked the gauze in it. "Shall we get this over with?"

Jonah shrugged. "It's not gonna hurt much, innit?"

Kat nervously chuckled as she placed the gauze against his wound. And sure enough, his arm felt like it was on fire.

"FUCKING SHIT!" he screamed, earning the attention of all of his comrades. "My mind's gone fucking blank! Kat, what are some other swear words?"

"Well there's also—" She cut herself off as she continued pressing the gauze against his wound.

"FUCK-SHITTING CUNT KNUCKLES!" Jonah screamed again. And he spent the next few seconds uttering more of the worst words in the English language.

"Franklin, quit being a baby and shut up," Vaughn interjected as he approached Jonah and Kat. He wheeled in a tray table holding instruments for surgical sutures. "Thank you, Mathis, for helping with the preparation."

"Anytime, sir," Kat replied as she laid the bloody gauze on the tray. "Sorry about my friend's potty mouth."

Once Jonah had composed himself, Vaughn began stitching the wound back up. Since anesthetics were hard to come by, Jonah could feel every stitch prick his body and the pierce of the needle through his skin. He had to squeeze Kat's hand to take his mind off the pain, and ironically Kat wore a straight face even as Jonah practically crushed her fingers.

Vaughn sewed the final thread in the stitches and cut off the remaining string. All that was left was an ugly scar. Vaughn covered it up with a large bandage that wrapped around his arm.