The Wicked End

"Isn't there another way out?" I asked, suddenly feeling rather claustrophobic.

"Nope, that's the only door, and you saw the way the ceiling gave out when I shut it. And there's no windows. We're stuck here until... well, until someone comes and finds us and digs us out," Matt replied, still searching for something among all the boxes and shelves.

"...How long do you think that'll take?"

"Well, I dunno. Could be hours. Could be days. Could be months.... But we've got enough supplies in here that if we ration it all, we could stay alive for probably four months. Six at the most," he said, shrugging his shoulders, still being nonchalant.

"And what if someone doesnt find us?" I asked. He didn't answer, but rather turned his head and looked at me. I dropped my gaze to the floor. I heard Matt return to his search, and he finally pulled out a long, plastic, rectangular blox, which I assumed was what he'd been looking for the entire time.

"First aid kit. Now come sit down, you're bleeding," he said, and motioned to a chair against the wall. It was small and simple, made out of metal; one of those standard folding chairs.

"Where?" I asked, looking down at my torso.

"Your leg, now come here," Matt said, and I looked down at my left calf, which was still throbbing now that I came to think about it. And for good reason, too: there was a nice shard of metal protruding from the muscle, probably from the impact when I was thrown under things. I about threw up at the sight of it, but held back and hobbled over to the chair. It was amazing how a would could hurt so much more once you saw what it actually looked like.

I sat down and Matt kneeled before me with the first aid kit and looked at my leg. "Hold on... I can't se shit in this light," he said before standing up and walking over to a box, which was filled with more candles. He took some out and placed them around me on the floor before lighting them with another match. The room grew brighter and he once again kneeled before me.

"I'm gonna have to cut your pant leg off to get to it okay?" he asked as he looked up at me. I nodded. For being a huge puncture wound, it wasn't very excruciating to say the least. At least not as excruciating as I would have always imagined it'd be. Then again, I was in so much shock that I couldn't really feel anything, so it probably still did hurt.

Matt pulled out a pair of scissors and cut a slit up the front of my pants to the knee, and then cut all the way around until the scrap of denim came loose in his hands.

"Oooh... yeah, this thing ain't pretty, Davy. I'm gonna have to... pull this sucker out," Matt said as he got a closer look at the hunk of metal. "I honestly don't know how you managed to walk on this," he continued on as he looked through the kit. He gave up on whatever he was looking for and got up, crossing the room and looking through another box. He came back with something in his hands and I saw he had grabbed a pair of pliers.

I gulped and felt my stomach start swimming. He was seriously going to pull the metal out of my leg himself.

"This is gonna hurt, baby... you might wanna bite down on this," Matt sighed as he ripped a clean piece of denim off from the scrap he cut before and handed it up to me. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

I took in a deep breath to try and calm my nerves. "Yeah, I trust you," I sighed and looked down at him. He smiled and leaned up to give me a short kiss before he took the pliers in his right hand.

I put the scrap of jeans between my teeth and gripped the seat of the chair, waiting for him to pull. I watched as he clamped the pliers onto the metal bit, and then closed my eyes, knowing I'd be sick if I watched any longer.

"Okay... on the count of three, Im gonna pull, okay?" Matt asked; I could only nod in return. "One... two...." he said, and I started breathing faster. "...Three," he finally said, and he gripped the bottom of my left leg with his free hand and pulled as hard as he could with the pliers. I clamped my jaw and bit down, my hands squeezing the chair and my eyes shut tight. He kept pulling and I tried to hold back the screams of agony that wanted to escape from me, but it was no good. I screamed as loud and as hard as I could through the material as I felt my flesh tearing apart. Hot tears spilling from my eyes as Matt kept pulling. My breathing started coming faster and faster; I had never felt such pain before in my life.

"I think it's stuck in the bone. Hold on," Matt said, and he pulled on it a little harder, and I screamed louder. My throat was becoming hoarse because I was so vocal, and all the pain was making my head throb and feel dizzy.

"....Almost got it Davy," I heard him say, but it sounded far off. I felt him start to ease the metal back and forth, trying to pull it loose, until it finally popped out with a sick squishy noise. I leaned my head against the wall and let the tears spill down my cheeks.

"You okay?" Mat asked as he came up and held my face in his hands. I couldn't move my head at all, and my teeth were still clamped around the jeans. I felt a kiss being placed on my forehead, and my body continued to shudder with my unsteady breathing. I finally opened my eyes and sat up, daring to look down at my leg. There was a nice slice of open flesh running about two or three inches in length down the inside of my calf and it was oozing a good amount of blood.

"I'm gonna clean you up an then I've got to stitch this thing closed before you loose too much blood, okay?" Matt asked and I nodded. After that pain, stitches would be nothing.

I kept my eyes shut and tried to relax as Matt started to wipe up the blood with an alcohol pad; it stung a little, but not much. A few minutes later, I felt something poking repeatedly around the wound, and then string being pulled through my skin. This carried on for about ten more minutes before Matt announced he was finished.

"I found some penicillin and a needle.... I can shoot you up with some if you want. It'll help keep infections away, and after that metal was in there that deep, I would recommend it."

I finally opened my eyes and nodded. I looked down at my wound again; for not having a medical degree of any kind, Matt did a pretty fine job. He gave me a shot of penicillin and I watched as he put antibacterial cream on the stitches before wrapping my leg in gauze to keep pressure on it.

"There we go," he said, and I leaned forward, suddenly feeling very tired. I saw some pills put in front of me and felt a water bottle being thrust into my hand.

"Take these, it'll make your head feel better," Matt said and I took the pills and water from him, swallowing both. I looked up at him, and studied his face.

"You're bleeding too," I said as I reached out to touch the cut near the top left of his forehead.

"I'll be fine," he smiled.

"I wanna fix you," I said woozily.

"Okay," Matt replied and he handed me the first aid kit. I looked through it and pulled out an alcohol pad to clean up the dried blood that had trailed down the side of his face and then cleaned up the cut itself, smearing the antibacterial goo on it. I found two butterfly tapes and put one at each end of the cut, holding it together to prevent blood flow. It was already bruising; pretty. Then he took some Tylenol himself.

"So... what do we do now?" I asked.

"Well, are you hungry?"

"Not really. Right now I want a nice bed to lie in and a pillow to rest my head on," I tried to smile. "Well, you're in luck cuz I just so happen to have both," Matt smiled. He picked me up, being careful not to jam my leg up and carried me over to a mattress lying on the floor in the corner of the room. This bomb shelter really did have everything. There were a few blankets and some pillows, and he placed me down onto the mattress, crawling in next to me. I closed my eyes and snuggled into him.

Now all there was left to do was wait.

I woke up some time later and Matt was still asleep next to me. I groped around for his left wrist and pulled his watch up near my face. I could barely read that it was about four in the morning through the dim light of the candles which we had kept lit while we slept.

I was feeling a little hungry so I crawled over Matt's sleeping figure and tied to stand up. I yelped in pain and laid there on the floor. I had sort of forgotten about my leg.

"What're you doing?" Matt asked from beside me, since I hadn't gotten very far from the mattress.

"I'm hungry," I whined.

He laughed and got up, pulling me up into his arms. "You lay down and I'll bring you whatever you want."

"I want peaches."

"Alright, I can get that," Matt replied and he set me down on the bed before finding a can on one of the many shelves. There was a hand-held can opener in the bomb shelter, though it'd have been ridiculous if there wasn't, since most things in there were canned.

He brought the can back and had even gotten a fork (there was obviously some silverware kept in there), and I started to eat. It was completely silent in the shelter, and I stopped eating so I could listen.

"What is it?" Matt asked.

"...I think the... meteor shower is over. It's quiet," I said. "Maybe someone will come find us soon."

"Maybe."