did Duke step out of the truck, but so did Craig.
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“She did well, with what she had,” Craig said upon examination of Tony. “I brought supplies. So we’re good. I need to get as much light as I can get.”
Spencer said, “We did bring those battery spot lights.”
“Get them,” Craig said, “I need a clean area, and I need to brighten that up. I think he has some internal bleeding.”
“Can you operate?” I asked.
“I have to. What’s here, Anna? Can you find me a table? Something we can move him to, and an area to operate on that we can clean?’
“What about the kitchen?” I asked. “The one has a grill with propane you can use for heat. The prep counter would work as a sterile environment. I can get that clean.”
“Good thinking. We have to work fast. But one thing is important. He needs blood. Before I left, on a hunch I checked his type. B Positive. Any of you B?”
Both Spencer and I shook our heads.
Duke said, “I’m O.”
“That may have to do,” Craig said. “Okay. Spence, get the lights. Dad, you and I will get the kitchen ready. Anna, can you get a hold of this woman. Maybe they have someone in their camp with B blood.”
“I’m on it.” Before, I made the call, I asked Craig. “What do you think? What are his chances?”
Very seriously Craig looked at me. “Let’s get that blood in him and an IV going.”
Prior to all this, we made fun of Craig and his IV obsession, but now I was so happy he was the king of IVs.
Hurriedly, I made my way to the Humvee and to the radio, switching to the predetermined channel. “This is Anna to Requin. Protocol help has arrived. We are in need of blood type B. If you hear this, if anyone has this blood type, please come to the casino. Tony needs your help.” I paused and then repeated the radio call. I would do so for twenty minutes. That was the plan. Hoping that someone would hear. But I didn’t have to do it the whole time. Within ten minutes, not only did Gail show up, but four others from her camp, did as well. All of them there to help Tony. All of them with type B blood.
Fourteen – Old Habits
When Gil began his assembly of individuals he felt were vital to keep the shelter going and for the continuation of our way of life, he put Tony in charge of finding people. Scientists, Security, Agriculture and Doctors. From the list, Gil would wean through them, looking, as Tony put it, for the least likely person I would find interest in.
More so than qualifications of specialty Gil seemed to judge by that.
Thank God Tony only presented him with the best.
Craig was one of the best. He was a young man who knew what he was doing and focused on it as well. I didn’t know his full list of qualifications, but when we returned to the bunker, I had every intention of getting to know Craig better. In the six months that I knew him, I don’t believe I even knew his middle name. Where he went to school. For a brilliant man he deserved more from me.
I realized after he operated on Tony, without a doubt, that if my son could have been saved, then Craig would have saved him.
I wondered if when Tony chose Craig if he had an inkling Craig would save his life one day.
Craig did.
The surgery took hours. The low temperatures aided in slowing Tony’s rapid heart rate. Craig felt he had slipped into shock. The loss of blood contributed to that. He told me Tony had something called splenic trauma. It was an injury to the spleen from whatever had surged into his gut. He repaired what he could, doing internal sutures as well as external.
He pumped him full of fresh blood and intravenous fluids. Tony’s heart rate normalized, and while far from out of the woods, Tony was better.
“We can’t move him. Not yet,” Craig said. “A couple days and we can try. The less we move him the better off he is. I’m still not sure if I have to completely remove the spleen or not. I don’t have a CT scan. For now, I think the bleeding
Eugene Walter as told to Katherine Clark