Charlie's Requiem: Resistance by Walt Browning & Angery American

Author:Walt Browning & Angery American [Browning, Walt]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2017-11-17T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Vanderbilt Medical Center

Nashville, Tn

“Tolerance becomes a crime when applied to evil.”

— Thomas Mann

For weeks after returning from Smyrna, Claire Kramer had been throwing herself into her work. There were more and more trauma cases in the emergency room as gangs and armed citizens clashed over the dwindling resources of the dying city. Over a dozen gunshot wounds had already been admitted since midnight, and the day wasn’t even half over. Nine of the thirteen GSWs had come from a single encounter, when a large gang invaded a subdivision being guarded by a local militia. Four of the gang members and one of the militia had succumbed to their wounds, but the other four were expected to survive, albeit two with limbs missing, amputated to save their lives.

“Hey, Doc,” one of the surviving militia patients croaked.

Claire had come to the intensive care ward to check on her handiwork, having transferred the man here after removing a bullet from his neck and a stitching up knife wound to his hand that had come perilously close to removing his four fingers.

“Yes?” she replied absently, jotting down notes on the paper charting that the hospital reverted to since the computer systems installed by DHS didn’t have any hospital software on it.

“The old man,” he said, grimacing in pain. “How is he?”

“Didn’t make it,” she replied, scanning the chart to make sure the appropriate vital signs were being monitored and recorded.

Claire was becoming irritated at the inconsistency of the recovery room staff. Several of them had abandoned their shifts over the last week, never to return. Most had been working in the intensive care and step-down units, with whom Claire had had little interaction until recently. She’d had to treat four patients who had been returned to the emergency room for infections or re-opening of wounds while in recovery. The state of the chart, along with the disorganization she found at the nurse’s station, reinforced her concerns that the hospital was dropping the ball.

Her work spent saving lives was being squandered by the lackadaisical care provided during the recovery phase. Claire, her head buried in the chart, finally became aware that the patient was sobbing.

“Hey,” she said, focusing her attention on him. “What’s wrong?”

“Did he say anything?” The man wiped his eyes with the corner of his hospital gown. “Did he suffer?”

“No, he never regained consciousness. I’m sorry.”

The patient turned his head and stared out the window. Outside, a fine mist swirling under a cloudy, grey morning sky. Spring was here, promising new life, but death still reigned in the city.

“You know,” he began, “the Vols should be having their spring football game about now. And the CMAs and Bonnaroo Festival wouldn’t be far off.”

Claire stopped scribbling notes. The realization of just how far society had fallen blindsided her, an emotional sucker punch. She looked at the man lying in bed, his far-off stare into a past that would never return. The hum of the overhead fluorescent light was the only sound in the sterile room as each of them became adrift in thoughts of what had been.

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