Chapter 5 First aid and Nightmares.

Despite Dad's assurances, Mom would not let us leave till I'd gotten my head stitched. We had to get back into the small pharmacy beside the hotel, which was a waiting room the size of a small coffee shop and another room at the back. Dad explained to the nurse that we had to get a move on and that we'd appreciate it if she was quick.

"Let's get to it then," She replied and led me to a chair, lowering the top half so I was in a laying position, and then she grabbed a pair of gloves while peering at my injury.

"May I ask how you got this wound, boy?" She said, her eyes bulging with curiosity.

"I tripped and fell while playing soccer." I replied warily.

"Hmm," She mumbled. "It does look like you got injured by a sharp object, like a nail or something."

I glared at her, wishing there was a legit way I could tell her to shut up and mind her business, but my eyes seemed to do the trick. She took the hint, drew back and cleared her throat.

"Alright let's get started." She wheeled my chair into an inner room, with all the hospital equipment and whatnot. One side of the wall was glass from top to bottom, meaning that I could see the rest of my family out in the waiting room. I glanced warily at both my parents, they were clueless as they'd been when we got in and were content to just standing in a position and looking all around or tapping their phone screens. It was Mom I watched the most, she had this habit of pretending not to hear anything and then bombarding you with questions afterwards, when she showed no sign that she knew more than I told her I could only bite my lip and hope it was true.

The second suspect was Jesse, normally you'd think she was the type to cover for me as well, but that was the case only half the time. Half the other time she was cracking under Mom's pressure to snitch on us, and when she wasn't she was the one questioning side-by-side with Mom, like on her sixteenth birthday.

I chuckled to myself every time I remembered being pinned to one of the dining chairs at near midnight, Mom and Jessie wheedling the truth out of me by only their constant nagging, but it wasn't a laughing matter when it really happened-well except you don't consider it funny when Mom and Jessie pretended to be horrified when they had probably known for the entire day that it was me who invited forty-six extra guests to Jessie's party that was only supposed to have sixteen people. I had invited the rest people partly as a prank and partly because I thought a party with only sixteen people would suck.

The nurse was done in thirty minutes, leaving me to bolt for the car before she could proceed to ask Mom and Dad any more questions about my injury. Dad and Jessie followed, carrying bags of soda and snacks; we waited an extra ten minutes for Mom to leave the pharmacy, wondering what was taking her so long. It wasn't a surprise when she came out clutching a first aid kit.

"The nurse had an extra few boxes of first aid lying around and she gave me this one for free," She chatted in an excited voice as she entered the car. "Isn't she nice?"

"Probably too nice," I whispered under my breath.

"She also gave me her personal guide to giving first aid, isn't that neat?"

"I'm not sure why we should be excited about a roadside nurse's first aid instructions." I said in a louder voice.

"We totally should!" Mom shot me a dark look. "She just saved your life!"

"Yeah, Mark, don't be ungrateful." Jessie swatted my shoulder, choking back a laugh.

Dad looked like he was holding back laughs too, before I could defend myself Mom went back to her excited tone. "She uses chocolate to calm down sobbing kids while she cleans their wounds, clear genius!" She turned on the radio, impatiently surfing through channels as Dad revved up the car.

"Road trip!" Dad hollered as he made for the road again, pausing at the exit way. "Is anyone forgetting anything else?"

"Nope, I'm good." I replied.

"Me too," said Jessie.

"I'm not," Mom groaned.

"What now?" Dad whined.

"I can't find any good music on the radio; they're either discussing politics or American football, such a boring sport."

If anyone else had said that they would probably get a two-hour lecture from Dad on why American football was the greatest sport to have been ever created, but all Mom usually got was a loud snort or a few minutes of silent treatment, she wasn't American after all.

But today she got none of those; Dad reached for a stack of CD players and slotted one in, sounds of guitars and drums blasted from the speakers, Dad and Mom swaying in rhythm.

"Figures," Jessie snorted. "Mom doesn't like American football but she loves American bands."

"Foster The People is more than just a band for me, Jessie," Mom said with her head bobbing. "And I didn't know they were American."

Dad raised an eyebrow. "You've had the Torches album for twelve years and you don't know which country the band members are from?"

"How does any of that matter?" Mom answered, still moving her head and humming to Color On The Walls.

"Right," Dad shook his head in what was either disbelief or surprise or a combination of both, he restarted the car and in a few minutes we were out on the road again.

We all listened to song after song in silence, either moving to the rhythms or calmly nodding our heads, suddenly our car pulled up on an accident scene between a bus and two minivans. There were five nurses moving between the mass of dead or unconscious bodies littered on the floor, a few of the victims were still alive, but they outnumbered the free nurses by a lot. Blood flowed everywhere; it was such a gory sight.

Mom was out the door in a split second, her first aid kit in one hand.

"Where are you going?" Dad called out.

"These nurses need help; come with me one of you." She replied without looking back.

Dad turned back to us. "Can you guys go instead? You know how I feel about blood."

"Ugh I feel sick already!" Jess said, putting her hands to her mouth.

"I'll go." I sighed and lunged forward, jumping out the car door and crossing to Mom's side.

"This is a great opportunity to use what that nurse had told me earlier, don't you think?" She nudged my arm.

"I'll bet you're excited." I looked at her.

"I am! It is always a privilege to help save a life."

"Sure," I smiled.

Despite all of Mom's enthusiasm, we remained standing in a corner, watching the entire ruckus and clueless on what to do before the nurses noticed and beckoned for us to come.

"Thank goodness you guys have a first aid kit; heaven knows we needed an extra hand." One of the nurses sighed, her blonde matted over her forehead with sweat.

A plump looking nurse came forward, watching us with a weird glint in her eye. "You two sure you know how to give first-aid?" She said in some sort of hoarse and indifferent tone.

"Yes ma'am," Mom laughed nervously. "Infact I recently learned a way to calm children down while giving them first aid, you know how kids‒"

"Ain't no kids here," The plump nurse interrupted. "This is a scene between a bus full of elderlies and two food delivery trucks‒"

"Hold up, did you say food?" I leaned forward. The plump nurse cast me a frown almost immediately; Mom nudged me in the arm, her eyes darting between me and the nurse.

"Don't be insensitive; there were seniors in the accident." She said through gritted teeth, smiling back at the nurses again.

"Alright, come with me," The blonde nurse gestured to Mom. "We could use your help attending to the injured."

"You're coming with me," The plump nurse pulled me by my elbow, leading me to a mall ambulance parked a few meters ahead.

The plump nurse opened the door to the front seat, pointing a chubby finger to the back door while she stared at me. "Help me get some more supplies while I phone for backup." She said.

I glanced warily at her before moving to the back, I opened the doors and jumped in, looking around for any sign of a first aid box. It was only now I realised the nurse did not make clear what she meant by supplies. I moved deeper in the van, craning my neck in every little corner while warily avoiding the injured bodies on the bed on either side. The van jerked violently and I fell forward, bashing my head on the wall that separated the back of the van from the driver's seat. I groaned as I made a slow attempt to get up, the plump nurse's voice echoed through the wall.

"Test subject has been acquired, now heading for base."

Test subject?

I gasped in shock as my mind began to process what that meant, quickly I lunged for the exit doors, but then a cold hand grasped my elbow, pulling me back with force.

"Help, Mom!" I shrieked as I turned back, one of the injured people-an old woman who seemed to be in her seventies-was pulling me to her sickbed, while the other stood beside it, wearing the most bloody toothed grin I'd ever seen.

"Mom!" I yelled again, struggling to free myself from the surprisingly strong grip of the old woman, I managed to break free and headed for the doors again, which shouldn't have been a problem since it wasn't far way, but for some reason the more steps I took I the further away the door seemed from reach.

The old woman sprung toward me and I dodged, wondering if I should fight or keep trying to run, I decided on the second option as the woman lunged again, sinking her nails deep in my neck.

Then I was pulled back again, this time landing right into the sickbed, my head banged against a hard surface and seared with pain. The world went black, and then back to color, or at least as much color as there was to see.

I was surrounded by the nurses from the accident scene, flanked on each side and staring at me with bloodshot eyes and open mouths, each had either moldy teeth or incomplete dentures.

I screamed again, but no sound came, the only result was my chest searing with pain as I lost breath.