Timebomb

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The door opens into the still, too-warm air that marks the interior of an all-metal enclosure on a summer's day. "This isn't Big Town," Ellen murmurs. "We're about five minutes' walk away. I didn't want to explain to Dusty and Kimba how I managed to come up with a complete stranger in the middle of a walled town with only one entrance."

Comments

[simon_doctor]

"Probably wise," Simon agrees, looking around with some curiosity.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

This was a cargo truck once, two hundred years ago. There've been black rains since then, and drying times, and the relentless march of wind and sand and seasons; it's a wonder there's anything left of it. At the far end the harsh light of late summer streams down on a landscape that still hasn't quite figured out that plant life ought to be green instead of brown, or that trees ought to have leaves on them instead of being spindly, blackened stumps.

Somewhere in the distance there are faint insect sounds, and a careful look overhead will reveal the odd scavenger-bird, but overall, it's an awfully quiet place.

[simon_doctor]

It is; far too quiet, in the classic vid cliche.

Simon shifts his grip on his medkit, and unconsciously lowers his voice. "Which way is it from here?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"East," Ellen says. "This way."

The road the truck had foundered on still shows signs of having once existed: broken, scabrous grey stone underfoot, lying in jagged chunks at times, but often smooth and flat for a foot or so. The paint that once marked the road lanes is long since gone, but the occasional bit of metal glimmers from spots where reflectors used to be. Ellen largely ignores them, along with the peculiar, evenly-spaced poles by the side of the road; she's focused on the rusty red shape up ahead that resolves itself into something rocket shaped. "That's just outside town," she says. "I think it was a refueling station."

[simon_doctor]

He follows her glance. "Could be."

The decay around them, the abandoned and ruined world ... it isn't frightening so much as terribly sad, all of a sudden.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

There are no pumps, but that's no real surprise. Petroleum was one of the first points of contention in the Resource Wars. There are some interesting locked-down metal lids set into the concrete beneath the rocket; that's as close as it gets. And anyway, there's what looks like the remains of a children's playground up ahead, and beyond it the low-slung houses and improvised walls of Big Town.

"There's only one guard at the bridge," Ellen says. "Dusty's a little jumpy, but he's not trigger-happy."

[simon_doctor]

"I'll leave it to you to get us through," he tells her. "...Is there anything I should know about, ah, local protocol?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Just... don't let Bittercup get you into a private conversation," Ellen says after some thought. "She's the one who puts chalk dust on her face to look paler. The others... as long as you don't do or say anything threatening, they're all right."

[simon_doctor]

"Believe me," he murmurs, "I have no intention of doing or saying anything threatening."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"All right."

Dusty, a tired, scared-looking fellow with deep set dark eyes, is huddled at his guard post on the far side of the bridgelet. Ellen raises one hand as they approach. "I've brought the physician," she calls out. "This is Dr. Tam. He's going to try and help Timebomb."

"Good luck, Doctor," says Dusty, in the tone of a man who doesn't really sound like he thinks it's going to happen. "He's in the clinic. Flash is watching him, for now."

[simon_doctor]

He nods at Dusty as they pass, and follows Ellen in.

In here, even more than outside, he's looking around; it's part simple curiosity, and part unease.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The houses are in a fair state of repair, considering how old all of them look. There isn't a thing that maintenance can do to fight the visual effects of constant weathering, really. But all of the windows- all- are boarded up and nailed over. And as for the people, well...

"That's Kimba," Ellen says, nodding to a tall black woman wearing leather armor. Her expression is a tired one, and she walks with a habitual hunch of the shoulders. She has a gun of some sort slung across her back, but it's debatable whether it'd be recognized as a mere BB gun or not from this distance. "I think she's the closest thing they've got to a mayor here. Her or Pappy. She only got here a few years ago, though."

[simon_doctor]

"Is she going to be all right with me being here?" he murmurs back, careful not to look too long at any one person.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"She'll be fine," Ellen assures him. "I think right now she'd accept anyone who could help."

(She doesn't look much older than Ellen. Nobody here looks much older than Ellen.)

Up ahead there's a ramshackle split-level house that looks more or less like any other. "That's the clinic," Ellen says. "I can get you inside and help you get started, but I have to do a scouting run up to the old Germantown police station. I need to know if I've got to go back to the Bar to get fighting help there or not. Otherwise I'd offer to assist you during the work."

[simon_doctor]

He nods. "It's all right. Just so you're here later to get me back to the bar."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I will. I promise," Ellen says, and opens the door to the Big Town clinic.

... which looks, frankly, like it's in about as good shape inside as out. There are a few chairs, but beyond that the furniture consists mostly of scavenged lockers and carefully stacked crates. The lighting's better than one might think, though. What leaks in through the chinks in walls and roof is supplemented by electric lamps that run on batteries Simon's not likely to have seen before- portable atomic energy sources last a long, long time around here. It's not until they reach the second room that conditions improve, as the second room gives the appearance of having been scrubbed recently.

Possibly with someone's entire monthly allotment of soap, but at least it was scrubbed. There are two occupants: the unconscious one, who's been laid out on a rickety metal table, and the conscious one, a blond young man with a thin, drawn face, his clothing stitched together out of carefully tended white and brown leather. "Flash?" Ellen says. "I'd like you to meet Dr. Tam..."

[simon_doctor]

Simon's not sure whether or not to hold out his hand; he nods, instead.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Welcome to town, doc," Flash says. "Good to see the mutants didn't get you. You spot anything on the way in?"

"Nothing that either of us saw," Ellen says.

"Good. Good. Listen, Doc..." Flash hedges a little. "I've never really worked with Red, but I've butchered some Brahmin in my time. You need any help with Timebomb here, I'll do what I can to lend a hand, okay?"

[simon_doctor]

"I'd appreciate that," he says sincerely, already moving toward the patient. "I'll need to scrub my hands -- can you tell me in the meantime how long ago he was shot, and how much he's been moved since?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Flash names a figure of time; it's long enough ago that someone with this many bullet holes in him ought to have been dead if it weren't for stimpaks. "The muties caught him right near the bridge into town. We got some sheet metal under him and dragged him in here, but he's been on the table ever since. Hasn't moved a muscle."

Ellen glances back and forth between the two men and murmurs, "If you don't need me further, I'm going to go scout the mutant retreat route. I'll be back as soon as I can."

[simon_doctor]

Simon's pulling on sterile gloves as Ellen speaks. He nods, and murmurs "Good luck" to her, before turning to take the extractor out of his medkit.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"You, uh... what do you need me to do first, doc?"

Flash is looking a little pale, but hey, he's game.

[simon_doctor]

Simon hands him another pair of gloves. "Put these on," he says, calm and businesslike, "and we'll get started."

The surgery itself takes Simon maybe three-quarters of an hour. Flash hands him implements, holds clamps in place, shows him how to apply stimpaks once all the bullets are out. Simon confirms that all the bullets are out, covertly, with the medical tricorder; the locals won't have seen anything like it, and he knows he can't afford to raise any unnerved questions about where exactly he came here from. As it is, not knowing how to use stimpaks is suspicious enough.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

At the end of it, Flash claps the doctor on the shoulder with one hand, mumbles his congratulations, and goes to find somewhere to sit. Butchering Brahmin is one thing. Getting to see the insides of someone you actually know is something else again, and a man can only hold out so long under something like that. He does get Simon a washbasin first, though. It's only courteous, after all.

[simon_doctor]

He takes his time about washing his hands, giving Flash room to recover. For a man with no medical training, he held together admirably well, kept his composure and assisted; Simon's not going to give him a hard time about needing a few minutes right now.