Dahmer Flu by Christopher Cox Read Free Book Online

reasoned to myself. I couldn’t tell anymore if it was morally right to be so self-serving, when your family’s lives were constantly in the balance. It reminded me of the old question about stealing bread- I realized that I would.
    “Okay,” I agreed finally, “but no chances.” She knew what I meant and slipped her small revolved into her pocket before loading supplies and equipment into her medical bag. I pulled forward slowly; ready to accelerate if anything looked out of place. The woman snapped her head up as we approached, and she pulled the child protectively to her chest while holding the other to her side. She watched us with haunted, nervous eyes.
    When I pulled the vehicle alongside the family, she pushed the younger child behind her. Neither of us moved, and neither spoke, each waiting to see what the other did first. I left the RV, preferring to run if I had to; I flipped the safety off my pistol, ready to fire. I rolled down the window and waited.
    “Please, just take what you want and go,” she called over the purr of the motor-home.
    “My wife’s a nurse. Do you need help?” Her cheeks were still moist with tears, although she had stopped crying. I saw that the boy’s breathing was ragged and shallow; my question was entirely rhetorical, but asking gave me the opportunity to judge her intent.
    “Yes!” She burst into tears again. “My baby, my baby’s hurt.” She looked down at him and stroked his face. “C’mon, sweetie, open your eyes, c’mon.”
    I slipped the gear to park and left the engine idling. “Wait there.” I felt stupid for saying that- she had nowhere to go. I unbuckled and crossed to the dining room bench seat, where Madi sat quietly. “Madi, me and your mom are going to go out-”
    “I know,” she cut in. “I looked out the window already. There’s a little boy that’s dead,” she said quietly.
    Aimee answered. “He’s not dead, but he might die soon. He’s was hurt in an accident, so I’m brining my doctor’s bag to help him.” Madi nodded.
    “It’s just like before,” I added. “But this time, Mommy’s not going to be in there with you. I want you to be quiet, and try to keep Jake from crying. I know that’s a lot to ask from you, but I need to you to be a big girl, okay?”
    “Is there something wrong? Why can’t we come outside with you?” She wasn’t convinced.
    “Everything’s okay, it’s just better if no one knows that you’re in there, that’s all. We’re going to go out, you lock the door just like every other time. Don’t come out unless me or Mom tell you to, you got it?”
    “Yes, Daddy.”
    “Goof girl.” I kissed her forehead. “I love you.”
    “I love you, too. Hurry.”
    I smiled, and then kissed Jacob. Aimee was already at the door, and Madi followed me to lock the door behind us. Aimee followed behind me as I rounded the vehicle, comforted by the familiar feeling of the pistol against my side. As we passed into view, Aimee passed me in a dead run for the mother and her child- they shared a bond that I couldn’t understand.
    I caught up to Aimee as she was kneeling in front of the child. “He’ll be okay,” she said to the mother, who was only marginally comforted by the platitude; Aimee was probably lying, but she had to do that a lot on the job. She pulled a thin white sheet from her bag and laid it on the hard road. “Help me lay him down,” She ordered. “Keep his back straight.” Reluctantly, the woman obeyed as I kneeled next to the pair to help. Aimee tried to keep her talking, to keep her calm- its second nature to her in a trauma situation; keep a clear head and you make less mistakes. “My name’s Aimee. What’s your son’s name?”
    “John,” She answered reflectively. “What’s wrong with him? Why won’t be open his eyes?”
    “I’m going to take a look, but I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she soothed. “What happened?”
    “We were driving and blew a tire. John, John senior, that’s