Supply Drop

Right as I got back inside I heard the Milwaukee charger click on. Taking off my boots, coat and gloves I took another glance outside to make sure all three plates were in direct sunlight. After that, I carefully closed the storm door around the cables from the outdoor solar array, then my inside door, wedging a few pieces of pink fiberglass around to keep some of the cold out. In the back room I could hear the draft shake the SteroSheets while I was taking my coat off.

Bud's not small, that's for sure. Almost had to get the sled out to get him in here. Nice truck, though. I'm glad he went easy. Shame to junk it, I thought, as I stepped into my crocs.

Stepping through the SteroSheets into my makeshift blood drive, I looked and saw his bag almost full. I didn't want blood everywhere again. Washing my hands, I didn't hear exactly when eyes opened. but I definitely knew when he saw the straps.

"What the fuck," he said, which I thought was fair.

"Don't move bud, I'll be done in a minute," I said, I guess trying to reassure him, but he didn't listen, but I'd been in a FlexiCuff or two, and I know how to make 'em nice and tight.

"FUCK– ARE YOU TAKING MY BLOOD?"

He was really givin' 'er but like I said, nice and snug but not cutting the circulation is the trick. I walked over to the sink, washed up with some good soap, and after using some sanitizer, I threw on a clean pair of gloves and took a vacutainer out of the green BD box. He was saying fuck me and stuff but I didn't take to too personal or anything. The worst was the ones who cried and begged and pissed their pants. This guy had some fire in him, which is good.

And I mean, I get it. If I woke up in a strange place, I'd be pissed off too.

Making sure I was well out of reach, I twisted off the line to the bag, pushed the vacutainer on the line. The bag was just full, so I turned off the pump. Once the vial was full for the sample, I was able cap it, and reach for the syringe of what I figured would be enough Nembutal to knock him back out but hopefully not enough to kill him. I stood up to lift up the line and stuck in the syringe, first making him calm down, then into what I hoped to wasn't a full-coma.

After a second I went up to his ear.

"Hey!"

I shook his body and clapped beside his ears. Nothing.

I worked quickly to pull out the lines in his arm, taking care to gauze him up and get him taped. I manage to get everything more or less cleaned up and put away back in the closet. He was still breathing okay.

I marked the blood bag with a B, and the expiry date into my old wine fridge that still held at a steady 4° and bag up the sample vial for the mail to make sure he was clean. The reagents said he was type B.

I never thought I'd be so concerned about blood types. I never thought I'd work with Jack either. Or for him. I wasn't sure which.

Once I'd finished tearing own my home blood drive and bud's in recovery position on my living room floor, the Milwaukee batteries are about charged.

After a short dig through my kitchen junk drawer, I found the key fob Jack gave me. With the radio in my hands, I punched in the first five numbers:

8-7-3-1-0

The fob swapped over to another set of numbers a minute later.

1-4-0-1-5

I pushed send, and waited for the line to connect.

"Mitch," Jack drew out the I sound. "How's it going b'y?"

I thought about how I didn't sound like that.

"Fine. I have another package for pickup."

"Great, look, I'm not coming in this weather so it'll have to wait."

Not great.

"I can only keep him out for so long."

"Well shit, I don't know, throw on a movie or something."

"Oh yeah, I'll put out some candles, maybe serve some sea bass. You fuckin'... you said--"

"All right hoser," he knew I hated when he said that, "calm down. Like I said, it's still forty below out there. I'll get the resources for a big fat supply drop and I'll be there tomorrow, maybe Wednesday. If he's in good shape, I'll pick him up and call in the drop."

I didn't say anything.

"I'll do my best. It's hard to get anything near you right now. There's some things with some guys nearby, as I'm sure you hear."

"Well, get your guys to take him out of here. I don't want him here."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what guys? I don't know any guys. I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not even here."

Asshole.

"Whatever you need to feed him we'll reimburse you from our stocks, and a little extra for your trouble. You must be low on shells. How'd you like some classic Texan twelve gauge? I got crates of them, all kinds, aughts... naughts... trots, whatever, I even have nice new tracers. Imagine how easy it will be to clear brush in the spring with tracers. I love these things."

Absolutely psychotic.

"I'll update my list. I need a few boxes of slugs anyway. Also some more water filters and purification tabs."

"No problem, my man! See, life is much easier when we agree on things, Mitch," Jack said to me like he was talking to a dog. "Keep your batteries charged and one in the radio tomorrow at noon. I'll call you around then. Either that or I'll just show up. Depends."

"Great."

"Over and out?"

"Over and out."

I popped out the Milwaukee battery from the handset and put it back on the charger. I stuck another log into the woodstove and looked at the guy on my floor.

My stomach began to growl.