Rule of Extinction (The Preservation of Species Book 1) by Geoff Jones

Author:Geoff Jones [Jones, Geoff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Breakaway Delusions
Published: 2025-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Five

Three deep lacerations ran across Charlie’s blood-smeared abdomen. Dirt contaminated the wounds. This man needs a surgeon, David thought. Not an anesthesiologist.

“Do something.” The desperation in Cameron’s voice broke his heart.

David nodded. He was the only one with a medical background and he would do everything he could. He studied the wound. Three inches of belly fat had protected Charlie’s internal organs, which was something. He hadn’t bled too much and he was unconscious, both also good. His breathing was shallow but steady. David checked his pulse. Strong. If the cuts hadn’t penetrated his abdominal wall, he might survive.

The terror bird lay a few feet away with a spear sticking straight up from the side of its head. It looked bigger than the one that attacked his children when they first arrived. The sooner they got the hell off this island and joined the other group, the better.

“Clean and seal, clean and seal,” he muttered, a mantra from his first year in medical school. He snatched a water bottle from Randall’s hand. “I need more water. As much as possible. As clean as possible.”

Randall shrugged. “The rest of our water bottles are all back at the beach.” Sierra had found them at the newcomers’ raft and brought everyone here to this tiny clearing. “It’ll take half an hour to go get ’em.”

“Then we better hurry,” Cameron said. She pointed to Morrie, Josh, and Randall. “You three. We’re running.” She looked down at David. “Don’t you let him die.”

“I won’t,” he said, hoping he could make good on the promise.

They took off in the direction of the beach.

David splashed water across the wounds, washing away a layer of muddy blood. Sierra handed him a second bottle, which he used to clear stringy clots from inside the lacerations.

He dug into the first aid kit for the tube of Bacitracin, pulled out the gauze and surgical tape, then put them back. There wasn’t enough to cover the slashes.

Waldmire grasped his shoulder. “How can we help?”

“After I clean the wound, I want to close everything up as tightly as possible. We’ll need the cleanest shirt we have and some vines to tie it.”

Waldmire nodded, then steered Barry and Kim away.

“Keep them close,” David said without looking up. “Kona too.”

Sierra knelt next to him and held out a brown bottle. “Can you use this?”

The label looked like it had been produced on an old typewriter. “Pentobarbital?” He’d used it as a preanesthetic to help patients relax before surgery. “There’s enough here to kill an elephant. Where did you get this?”

“Long story.”

“Do you have a syringe?”

She shook her head.

“I could use it to sedate him, but he’s already out. Do you have anything else?”

She shook her head again.

He looked at his hands. Filthy gauze covered torn fingernails, which throbbed painfully. “Show me your fingers.”

Sierra tucked the bottle back in her pocket and held out her hands. They weren’t sterile, but they looked better than his. And more importantly, they were small.

“Okay, you’re going to pluck out the larger bits of debris.

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