Who: Charity, Penny, and Zane When: Day 4, 6:30am Where: Mostly the hotel Dining Room
Charity had lost track of time. It was hard to tell even whether it was day or night in the church basement, save for the occasional flicker of light through the cracks of the bulkhead. She waited for the Father to return, long after her hope had died. What else could she do? Even that quick dash to the safety of the basement had tired her, and eventually she gave in and let herself sink into a fitful sleep. The day passed painfully slowly for her, and by the time her empty stomach forced her to rouse herself entirely, the filtered light of a new dawn just reached the door.
"Fuck." The basement was safe, but it had nothing in the way of food or water. She was starting to feel frighteningly weak and a bit nauseous. After a bit of deliberation, Charity shoved the doors opened and peered up into the streets, listening for the tell-tale sounds of screaming or inhuman wailing. Nothing. Carefully, she pulled herself from the basement and wiped the sweat off her forehead, peering about the streets. If she kept to the back alleys, maybe, maybe she could find something to drink, at least. She rallied her protesting body to move relatively quickly and quietly as she pressed on, looking for any sign of a safe haven. She didn't even want to hope for other survivors.
He didn't know why he bothered smoking outside. He hated the smell, it, above all else regarding his little addiction, bothered him the most. After a cigarette he always washed his hands, and he preferred to smoke outside so the breeze could carry it away. Only, right now, outside smelled much worse than the smoke: the cooked and rotting flesh of the bodies stinking up the air, activating his gag reflex as soon as he'd stepped through the door. It was only his desire to keep the inside of the building smelling as good as possible that kept him out in the heat and corpses.
Zane crouched down on the pavement, rushing his way through his second smoke of the morning. Already the wait for Terry to come back felt long. He needed to talk to the man, to see the kids with him were okay, and to get his gun back. He felt naked without it, even with the spare tucked into his waistband. At the sound of the door opening, Zane turned to see who else was braving the stench. He was met with the sight of familiar blonde hair and blue eyes. "Hey, Vegas," he greeted the girl, standing again.
"Hey Zamboni," she responded, shrugging a bit with the lack of nickname coming to her mind right then. Note to self: come up with an amazing nickname for Zane. But until then, Penny eyed his cigarette with a lifted brow. "Can I bum a smoke?" she asked, reaching into her pocket for her lighter. She carried her lighter with her on all times, but her carton was back in her room. She hadn't really expected to come out and smoke; she had just been wandering the hotel, seeing that the day was nice outside, and decided to see how the weather was. Especially after she saw Zane. She leaned on the wall next to him and looked around.
Nice day, overall. Probably a better day to go gun hunting than the previous day had been. Maybe she'd mention that to him, although at the moment she really needed to sate her nicotine demons. "Nice day," she decided upon, arching her back a bit to stretch.
Briefly, Charity fancied she heard voices. That was, of course, impossible, so she wrote it off as a delusion of her pained mind. Or worse, a monster lurking somewhere nearby. Her remaining hand slipped into the navy jacket she wore, grasping the plain wooden cross that hung around her neck. It'd been her father's, once upon a time, and she had kept it more as a way to remember him by rather than for any particularly religious reasons. Now it was a comfort; something solid to hold onto and keep her connected to the real world.
Her foot snagged on a box someone had thrown carelessly into the alley and she pitched forward suddenly, too weak by now to catch herself from even this slight stumble. "Fuck!" She twisted at the last second, managing to land on her right side. It still hurt like a bitch. Charity grunted and yelped at the impact, tears springing to her eyes as she tried not to pass out. "Dammit all to hell! Fucking fucker fuck-face! Sunnuva ever-loving bitch ass..." She gasped out each explicative like a bark. Swearing wasn't helping the pain, but it sure as hell made her feel better. She gave little thought, however, to who or what it might attract.
"Nice day?" Zane looked at the blonde skeptically, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He had several, a benefit of having camped out in a convenience store one night and stocking up. Necessities were necessities. At some point he knew he'd have to ration them, or maybe quit altogether, but he wasn't in the mood to think about it yet. Besides, he felt an even shortened lifespan was a benefit now. "Death and destruction equals a nice day because the sun is out?" He raised a brow high and then turned his attention to the pack in his hands. He was just debating whether or not to actually share with Penny, and how to make her work for it, when a string of curse words came floating through the quiet streets clear as day.
Zane threw his pack to Penny instantly, and pulled out his gun, his eyes scanning the street. Wherever the sounds had come from, it wasn't from the hotel behind them. "Did you hear that too?" he asked, as he began moving out into the debris, looking for the source of the sound. It had been human, no mistake. "Hello?" he called, his voice echoing over the empty buildings.
"Someone is cranky," she drawled, rolling her eyes a bit. "It's better than yesterday, how about that, y'whiner." Still, Penny caught the pack when it was thrown to her, immediately going on the defensive at the noise as she nodded. "Yeah..." She put the pack in her pocket for the moment, and grabbed out her own gun, looking around and following Zane slowly. "Could you tell where it was coming from?" She looked around, still unable to pinpoint it, and scowling. "Hello!" she shouted, her own voice echoing back, louder than Zane's. "Are you alright?"
Now she knew she was hallucinating. Charity carefully pushed herself up to sitting, wheezing as the world spun a tad. "Fuck... dunno if you're gonna eat me or shit..." Her voice rose shakily as she tried to peer around to spot whoever was shouting at her. "But usually people don't fucking swear like that if they're fucking okay! So help me or finish me off or whatever!" She wiped the sweat off her brow and peered towards the entrance to the alley, not even feeling together enough to get to her feet. At this point, she hardly even cared if she died here. At least then it would be over. But if those voices did belong to monsters, they were a lot more well-spoken than any she'd seen so far, and a spark of hope fluttered in her breast.
Definitely human. "This way," Zane said as he began to move faster along the street, looking for any sign of person, the voice getting louder as they went, though the echo threw him off. He glanced at Penny to see if she had spotted anyone when some movement to his side caught his attention. Zane turned, gun at the ready, and found himself looking down an alley. There, propped up was a woman.
He scanned the alley quickly and with no sign of monsters, tucked his gun away and hurried to her side, crouching down next to her. Zane had no idea how this girl looked on a good day but he was guessing she looked ten times better than she did right now. It wouldn't have taken a medical degree to know something was wrong. His blue eyes moved to her missing arm, the bandages there, and the stains on them. "Can you stand?" he asked her, bracing an arm around her back.
Penny followed Zane swiftly, but almost vomited at the site of the woman without her arm. God, just... God. She didn't even want to imagine what this woman went through. Taking a deep breath and swallowing thickly, she went to her other side so she could help brace her if she needed them to lift her up. "How long has your arm been off?" she asked, imagining she must have lost a lot of blood... not to mention infection. This could get very ugly, very fast.
Still, Penny kept a tight hold on her gun, looking around. She didn't know quite how the monster's hunting ability worked, whether sun was some sort of kryptonite to them and they would be injured if they would go out in it, but she also didn't know if the smell of blood would attract them. She was sure neither she nor Zane smelled like sunshine and daisies (although she had taken a nice, long, hot shower this morning), but quite frankly, this woman reeked of sweat and blood. Penny wanted to get out of here and back inside, constantly feeling like monsterish eyes were on them, watching their every move.
Humans. Two of them. She tried not to look as surprised as she felt, honestly expecting to find she'd imagined the exchange. "Over here!" She made sure to catch their eyes when they rounded the corner, shifting to wave shortly. Then she had to drop her arm so she could steady herself. "Fuck, I've been walking all day, so I better be able to." Charity struggled upright with Zane's support, not nearly as steady as she wanted to be. "Depends, how many days has it been since this all began? I, uh, I've lost track somewhere in there." By which she meant she spent a lot of time unconscious. "Please tell me you've at least got some water or shit..." She'd never quite been this thirsty. She imagined, if someone offered, she'd drink sea water, even knowing how counter-productive and dangerous that was.
"This is fourth day," Zane informed her, tightening his grip around her waist and helping her walk. "We're staying at a hotel with a bunch of survivors. There's water there." He looked ahead, finding a path around the debris so walking wasn't even more difficult for the girl. "Has your wound been looked at by anyone yet?" He glanced at it, guessing the answer was no. Four days since it had been torn off, without her being cleaned up or stitched together properly did not bode well. In a world this dirty infection would set in easily. In fact, the girl already looked feverish but it was difficult to tell with the heat that beat down. He'd check her once they were inside. Then, with dread, Zane wondered exactly what sort of medical materials were actually available at the hotel.
Penny started following slowly, keeping a look out and about, very pale considering the heat and time of year. Still, her eyes kept going back to that wound, and the attack this woman must have gone through kept playing in her head, until eventually she ducked to the side and vomited on a pile of debris close to the hotel, holding her stomach as she just couldn't stop. Penny took a second to breathe, sweating and shaking a bit, before her knees started to give out and she caught herself heavily on what she was pretty sure was a plank of some sort, but right now she didn't care as another wave of sick left her. Tears streamed out of her eyes before she stood up and sniffed, walking shakily back to where Zane and the woman were.
Charity picked her way through the alley, concentrating on walking without falling over. It was considerably easier to do with someone to lean on. "Fourth... shit. So yeah, lost it the first... morning. I guess. There are more? Thank God." The simple phrase sent her mind back to the Father, and how he'd died (probably horribly) while she cowered in a basement. Fuck. She winced and glanced over to where the younger woman was throwing up. If she had any food at all left in her, she'd probably have joined in. Damned if she didn't want to do something besides walk along calmly like everything would be okay now. She wanted to scream and rage and vomit and... anything, but she hardly had the energy for doing that and trying to survive.
"Someone - a friend saved me. Damned if I know how. He shouldn't have been able to. I think he said he tourniquetted the limb, and did the bandages, of course. But he wasn't a doctor, if that's what you mean. Still, otherwise I'd be eaten or bled out by now." She paused to catch her breath. It was awfully hard to breath and move at the same time, especially in this heat. She hoped the hotel was close.
Zane paused and looked over his shoulder while Penny lost her breakfast--or at least the most recent burger she'd eaten. He smirked to himself and waited for her to finish and rejoin them. "Alright?" He still remembered the first time he'd vomited in med school while helping in the emergency room. The victim had been in a nasty car crash and hadn't made it. "He probably saved your life," the blue-eyed man commented about her friend as he tightened his grip on the girl and half lifted her along to hurry them out of the street. The last thing they needed right now was a monster to show up. With Penny still looking queasy, he'd probably be forced to drop this girl and try to make it to his gun in time.
He breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped through the main entrance of the hotel. Zane continued on through the lobby and into the dining area next door. He set the girl down in a chair and began pulling tables end to end to make a longer surface. "I need to look at your wound," he explained. He glanced around, his blue eyes finding Penny. "Vegas, could you see if there's a first aid kit in the kitchen?" Hopefully there would be something usable in there. "And some water?" He offered his hand to the girl to help her onto the table before going to the sink and beginning to scrub his hands under hot water. "What's your name?" he asked her, trying to recall bedside manner, something he'd struggled with in school.
"I'm fine, get her inside," Penny insisted, waving her arm at him and trying to get on the defensive again. She hadn't heard or seen anything unusual- or rather, threatening, since everything now was unusual. Or was it now that the unusual was usual? Penny shook her head; now was not the time to be getting introspective. She followed them inside and then nodded at Zane, putting her gun back into her waistband before running off to the kitchen, thankfully not that far away. She appreciated him not ragging on her for her moment of weakness, instead distracting herself by bouncing around the kitchen, trying to find what she needed.
First aid kit, first aid kit, first aid- got it! She smirked triumphantly as she backed out of some random, corner cabinet, grabbing a bowl from off the counter and filling it with water. Penny grabbed it up and started to head back before pausing and going back into the center of the kitchen, grabbing a clean towel before heading back to the lobby, offering the gifts up to Zane.
Charity simply grunted at Zane's comment about the Father. Sure, he'd saved her life. But she was also the reason he'd been killed. At least no one was asking why he wasn't with her anymore, but then again, they'd probably all suffered some loss or another. She let herself be mostly carried along, figuring that this was no time to be prideful. She looked up sharply a couple times, when she heard things that might be monsters or might just be her imagination. But nothing came charging after them, and before she knew it her feet hit the floor of the hotel. Slumping a little against the man supporting her, she let out a relieved sigh.
She slumped down into the chair that Zane offered, absently plucking at the tattered remains of her jacket's left sleeve. She'd have to sew it up, when she found thread. Worrying about the coat was easier than thinking about the torn flesh underneath. "Charity. Uh, Charity Rose." She watched the other woman head into the kitchen and come back out, trying to stay focused as the adrenaline that had kept her running this far leeched from her body. Damn, she could practically taste the water from here. "How about you? Your names, I mean. Damn I'm fucked up." She let out a short, humorless laugh and started to shrug off her jacket.
Zane continued to scrub his hands for longer than any normal person would have thought necessary to get them clean. In his head he was ticking off the things he would likely need for Charity, and then reminding himself that he had almost none of them: no large overhead light, no scalpel, no anesthesia, no bone saw. None of it. He dried his hands and grabbed a bottle of water from behind the bar and a garbage can, carrying both over to the table where the girl sat.
"I'm Zane. This is Penny," he introduced, gesturing to the blonde. He opened the water and handed it to Charity before turning his attention to the first aid kit. He dug around inside finding antiseptic, scissors, and bandages and laying them on the table. "Do you have any other medical issues, or take medication?" Zane asked, pausing in his search to look at the woman. "I'm going to need you to at least take your arm out of your sleeve; and I don't have anything to numb you." So hopefully she was tough or her nerve endings were dead. Zane turned his attention to Penny a moment, raising a brow at her. "Are you going to be okay when I take this bandage off?"
"I'm fine, Dr. Zane," Penny said, watching him with something akin to shock. He honestly sounded and looked like he knew what he was doing, not like he had picked this off a show of some sort. Zane, a doctor? In some ways that made sense and made absolutely no sense. For her, being a doctor seemed like you needed to at least, you know, be some sort of optimist and like people... which was the complete opposite of how she thought of Zane in her head. Then again, doctors were rich and usually liked power, which seemed like it could jive fairly well. But there she was, judging him again, and Penny shook her head enthusiastically. "I'll be okay. We have booze... somewhere, I'll go bring some back. In the mean time..." She stripped off her shirt and handed it to Charity, smiling weakly. "Feel free to bite on this. I'll be right back."
She jogged off to the bar, keeping an arm over her chest as she did. The morning of... The Incident (it seemed like a good, cryptic, horror novel like name), she had pretty much come home from the strip club and fell asleep, and she hadn't thought to pack other bras when she hurriedly packed some clothes together before leaving her apartment. That meant she had been stuck in her showy, shimmery, definitely-only-worn-by-strippers push up bra for four days, and that was not made for running, no matter how much of an overactive imagination one may have. Still, she kept her mind focused on her task, and when she reached the bar she searched under it until she found a bucket, and put in the first hard liquors she saw; vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila... Penny grabbed one more bottle of each, since there was no accounting for taste, and then headed back, fixing up the cups on her bra as she walked so that she wouldn't give Zane quite the free show yet. Although normally that would be fine, she didn't exactly want to distract him at this moment.
"Here, take your pick," she grunted, putting the bucket down next to Charity's good arm.
"Zane, Penny." She acknowledged each of them with a little nod, carefully peeling the jacket back and off the ruined stump. She'd made a point of not looking at it too closely before now, and even though it was still under bandages the wound made her shudder. "No and no. I'm healthy as a horse, usually. You're actually a doctor, then?" How goddamn lucky of her. Charity practically snatched the bottle from his hand, gulping half of it down without bothering to wait for his response. The water hit her throat and gut in a wave of relief, and she relaxed into the chair almost immediately. "Well that's a damned sight better. Thank you." She accepted Penny's shirt solemnly, twisting it up a bit and biting down before she tried to work the stump out of her shirt sleeve. With a fair bit of twisting and some muffled swears to help her along, she managed to get it out without jarring it too badly. Of course, she'd already been running about in the streets with it like this, so perhaps she was just getting used to it.
While Penny was off getting the only substitute they had for painkillers (and boy was she grateful they even had that), Charity watched Zane go through the first aid kit and organize everything he thought he would need. The next hour or so was likely going to be hell, but now she almost looked forward to it. She was alive, and somewhere with food and water and other survivors, and that meant she was going to stay alive, dammit. Her torn and bloodied t-shirt was half off, the left side pulled up onto her shoulder so he had free access to her arm. There were a few cuts and scrapes along her torso as well, but they were a far less pressing matter, and not really deep enough to be any real danger. She raised her head when Penny came back, flashing her a grim smile. "Fuck, please tell me that's whiskey. You got a bottle opener?"
"Technically," Zane said, glancing over at Penny. His eyes raked over her shimmery bra, his brow raising. So she went from only a shirt to no shirt at all? "Yes, I am a doctor. I have my medical degree and got my license but I didn't do my surgical residency." He turned his attention attention back to Charity. "I still have experience with patients, though, and I'm probably the best you've got right now." Slowly, he began unwrapping the bandages, the smell of puss and decay greeting his nose. Yes, she was definitely infected. "How are you feeling otherwise? Any nausea or chills?" He threw the first crusty brown and yellow bandage away and grabbed the towel Penny had brought, placing it on his lap before unwrapping the second. "Just tell me if you need to lay down at any point," he told Charity.
The second bandage came off to reveal a mangled limb. Even though he'd been expecting it to look like meat from a grinder it still surprised him, along with how well Charity was doing considering. None of this showed on his face, however; his training had already kicked in. Zane picked up the scissors he'd found, swabbed them with antiseptic and began poking Charity's skin near the wound. "Can you feel that?"
"Feel free to stare after, doctor, I'll even make a nurses hat for you," Penny joked solemnly, paling again when she saw the full extent of Charity's wound, the smell assaulting her senses. She was determined not to get sick again, however, but nonetheless she felt her knees go a little weak. She hadn't even finished high school, let alone done any sort of medical studying; she was in no way prepared for this, and in fact had gone out of her way not to see the destruction the monsters had caused a few days ago. Still, she would be a good girl, she couldn't just bail now. She squatted down so she didn't flash Zane and distract him any, opening up the whiskey bottle and putting it in Charity's hand. "Lemme know if you need anything," Penny mumbled, looking up at Zane but meaning it for both of them.
"Hey, you won't hear me complaining about your credentials. Anyway, I don't exactly feel like eatin', y'know? But it's not like there's anything on my stomach to be nauseous over." Charity turned away quite quickly when the smell hit her, and a cold sweat broke out down her back. She wouldn't lose her cool, not now. "I've felt like shit, but I can't tell you if it's the lack of food and water, the blood loss, or what. This easier for you if I'm sitting?" Taking the whiskey, she whispered a hoarse thanks to Penny before she took a long draught. The alcohol hit her system hard, and almost immediately. "Thank God... I mean, no, I can't actually. Oh, wait, ow. Ow! I feel that!" She winced as Zane moved the scissors farther from the wound, but a good bit of the end of the stump was simply dead; a small blessing, as far as she was concerned. The sailor stared very intently at the opposite corner of the room, head turned as far from Zane as she could get.
"Just try to keep her distracted right now," Zane told Penny, nodding toward Charity. "And keep your cleavage to yourself," he smirked. Medical experience or no, he was actually glad she was there: it would make things easier on him. He poked his way further up Charity's arm until she cried out and then lifted it to get a look at the bone. He couldn't see it past the flesh so he put her arm down again and began searching the first aid kit for some gloves. He really didn't want to dig in to her infected wound with his hand. He found some and pulled them on before pressing his fingers into her tissue and feeling for the bone.
"No chills or nausea is a good sign," he explained to Charity as he located the end of her bone. It seemed like it was just short enough he wouldn't have to worry about some way to cut or file it down. He picked up the scissors and began cutting away at the dead tissue, dropping it into the garbage can. Throwing away what were once parts of a person still had a strange feeling to it. "I'm from Detroit. Vegas, here, is from Vegas." He nodded to the blonde. "And I've yet to determine exactly what her sense of style is but it seems to revolve around missing clothing." He raised his brow, his blue eyes meeting Penny's, amusement on his face.
"That seems to be why he would call me Vegas," she snorted, sticking her tongue out at him, although she enjoyed taking the bait. "What can I say, when you're a stripper on and off for ten years missing articles of clothing seems natural. Just as I'm sure saving the day is natural for you, Mein Herr," she teased, winking at Charity and looking around. Seeing a box of tissues at the front desk, she went up and grabbed it, using them to gently pat away the sweat on the suffering womans' forehead. "I will have you know I have not lived in Vegas for five years, so suck it," Penny added with a smirk, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder.
"Can't promise how long it'll last..." Charity was already feeling rather more ill, with him poking around in her flesh like that. Boy that wall was interesting. "I'm from Port Huron, actually. Swung down here on a bit of a vacation to catch up on friends. Guess I didn't get very far, huh?" She let out a short, harsh laugh, not noticing that the nearly-empty water bottle by her feet jumped a bit as the contents sloshed against the side of their own accord. Instead she just took another gulp of whiskey. "Fuck. Wonder if back home's gone to hell, too. Should at least try to call the Boss." She smiled a little at Penny, feeling a bit too miserable to thank her just yet, but appreciating it all the same. "Sounds like you've had quite the life, though. I'll try to keep your shirt in one piece so you can have it back when we're done."
Penny was a stripper, huh? Somehow that didn't really surprise him. Her being a teacher or a nun would have surprised him. "You can try to call, if you can find a signal. My phone is dead now and I couldn't reach anyone." The words came out bitter and Zane scowled as he concentrated on slicing off a large piece of flesh. When his phone had first died he hadn't cared much: believing his father to be dead had little affect on him. The man had been an authoritarian ass and Zane wouldn't miss him in the world. In fact, there were very few people Zane figured he would miss, though he'd said goodbye to them long ago. It wasn't until the day before, when he'd seen the young man with wings and his little sister that the idea Ali was still alive had occurred to him at all. But what to do about it? His father had always claimed not to know her whereabouts, not that Zane had believed him. "It appears in the meantime you might be stuck at a hotel for a vacation in the middle of the Apocalypse." He glanced up at the two women. "So, Vegas, did you have a stripper name?"
"My phone still has a little bit of battery left, if you want to borrow it." Penny lifted a brow at Zane, noting the bitterness in his voice, wanting him to know she meant that for him, too. She flashed back to when they first met, how he had been calling someone over and over, and wondered who in this world Zane could want to contact so badly. Perhaps family, since he hardly seemed like the type to worry this much over friends... and she highly doubted he had a girlfriend. "Who needs a stripper name when your name is Penny Lane?" she pointed out, smirking a bit. "I worked at a small little joint, very low budget in comparison to some of the places in Vegas, but I was the highlight of the night. They'd announce Penny Lane and I'd come out and dance to some random little old school number, usually from the sixties or seventies, and the guys would go nuts." That story was mostly for Charity's benefit, trying to keep her distracted. "Lots of boys on vacation used to pop in, although I'm sure they wouldn't have minded getting stuck in a strip club during the Apocalypse. Neither would I, actually. They probably have more booze than we do," she winked.
"Penny Lane? No joke?" Charity tried to chuckle, but it came out a little strained. Even if it didn't hurt, exactly, she could feel how Zane was cutting into her, and it was beyond unsettling. "Damn, wish I had some of the Beatles here. Or Cohen. I was raised on that stuff." She listened to the story, but stayed focused on the far wall and her drink. "I'll, uh, borrow that after Zane's finished. I was stupid enough to leave my phone in the motel room when I left. And I don't want to scare anyone more than they already are by screaming in the middle of the conversation." The comment was punctuated by another wince and a sharp gasp as the prodding came a little too close to living tissue. The water bottle at her feet shuddered suddenly, then burst open with a small pop, showering them all with the remaining water. It was lucky Charity was rather too exhausted to jump, but she did start a little, staring dumbly at the other two. "What the hell was that. I'm not hallucinating, am I?"
He listened while Penny talked about the strip joint she worked at, almost with a loving tone. He knew guys who loved strip joints--he'd been to a few himself--but he'd never heard of the girls working there talk about them with such tenderness. It went far to explain her seeming love of removing her clothing, along with her forwardness with him to night they'd met.
Zane closed his eyes as the sprayed water dripped down his face. He twitched to move his hands to wipe it away and then remembered he was in the middle of someone's arm. He squeezed his eyelids to push the water out and then opened them again. "People have powers now, apparently," he explained to Charity. "It will sound crazy and I thought the people I came in with genuinely were, but I have since found I can turn out the lights with my mind, so to speak. Perhaps you have some ability with plastic or water?" He turned to brush his face on his sleeve, an attempt to remove the water still sitting there. "Vegas, you figure out yours yet?"
"No joke," she laughed, smirking a bit at her. "My mother was a bit of a Beatles fanatic, she couldn't pass it up." And then... water. That was weird.
The moment the water stopped spraying, she grabbed a few tissues and jumped up, going to wipe it out of his face so he could see properly. "Do you feel like a real professional now, Herr Doktor?" Penny whispered in his ear, teasing him a bit before leaving him to go clean off Charity. She didn't care so much for herself; she wasn't that wet, and she was neither the one operating nor being operated on. "I'm probably the only person in the post-Apocalypse world who is powerless," Penny shrugged, sitting back down and grabbing another tissue, patting herself dry at last. "It'll probably show up in something random someday. Maybe procuring your Beatles music, although that really shouldn't be that hard. I'm sure they have music here somewhere, or we can get some."
"Powers?" Her mind drifted back to the Father, and the things he'd said about how the Lord provided... Charity's gaze drifted up thoughtfully to the ceiling for a long moment and she felt the way the water sat on her skin, how it trailed and moved, like it was alive. "Beatles. Yeah, you'd be surprised the songs you learn on a boat." But her voice was far away. Then dark spots exploded behind her eyes and she swayed dangerously in the chair. "Oh, uh, Zane? Lying down sounds real nice right about now." Exhaustion swamped her, stronger than it'd been even a moment before. "Uh, booze musta gone to my head faster 'n I expected." She'd do more thinking about this whole 'powers' business when her head stopped spinning.
Zane raised his brow at Penny. He appreciated the water out of his face, but not as much being called Doctor. "Not really," he answered. "I don't want to be a Doctor, which is why I didn't do my residency." Plus given his facilities and tools he felt as far from a professional as was possible, and more like a back alley hack. "Maybe you can use your mind to make people strip," Zane suggested to Penny, figuring at least something like that would line up with her career.
He snipped off more tissue, finally get close to the living stuff when he saw Charity raise her head to stare up. Zane's eyes followed hers, wondering for a moment what she was looking at. The ceiling? Then when she spoke he could hear the floating cadence to her voice, and realized what was happening. "Tough it out," he told her firmly, though he was peeling off his gloves a second later. He hooked one arm around Charity's back and the other under her legs, lifting her off the chair and down onto the table top. He pushed the tools he'd laid there out of the way and helped her to lay down. "Penny would you elevate her feet?" He pulled the gloves back on a moment later and began working faster to remove the dead stuff. As much as it would be a kindness to her if she passed out, Zane didn't want to have to fix her arm and somehow monitor her breathing at the same time.
"If that were true you'd be naked five times over already," Penny deadpanned, scowling a bit as she saw Charity start to slip. Still, hearing the request to grab her feet, she was confused. "Her... feet...?" But she wasn't the one with the medical degree, so she got up and went to hold her feet up, not quite sure what the point was to the exercise. Maybe getting the blood in her feet to rush towards her head or something? She had no idea. "Well, you did drink quite a bit on an empty stomach... We'll just keep an eye on you."
Penny looked over her feet at Zane, lifting a brow. "So why'd you quit being a doctor, then? You got far enough, you said you had your certificate, you seem like you're doing pretty well... What happened?"
Charity clung to consciousness, letting Zane lift her onto the table without protest. The whiskey bottle dropped from her hand and she instead clung to the little carved cross that hung around her neck. It gave her something solid to think about, and if the doctor said not to pass out, dammit if she wasn't going to listen. She'd been lucky enough to never get seriously ill or injured on board the ships, but she'd seen it happen to enough to her friends and crew that she knew you damn well listened to the person taking care of you. And right now there wasn't the option of calling in a 'copter if she got bad enough.
"Not gonna pass out - shit." She winced a bit as Zane started moving faster. Okay, that fucking hurt. But if she focused on the ceiling and the conversation it wasn't so bad. At least, that's what she tried to convince herself of.
"Only five times? I must be losing my touch," Zane returned, though it was clear his focus was not on his banter with Penny. His brows furrowed, his face a sight of intense concentration. The sooner he was done digging in Charity's arm, the sooner he could check her other vitals. Surgery was much easier when there was equipment to tell him how a patient was doing, and when there was an experienced surgeon standing right there to tell him what he was doing correctly or incorrectly.
"I quit being a doctor because I didn't want to be a doctor," Zane answered, simply repeating what he'd said moments before. A few clinks sounded as he dropped pieces of bone into the garbage can and then went back to removing dead tissue, separating it carefully from the living. His gloves had turned bright red and the towel in his lap was spotted with blood now. "What did you do in Port Huron, Charity?" he asked, trying to give her something more to focus on so she might stay conscious. He then glanced at Penny. "Do you know how to take a pulse?" He didn't wait for her answer before explaining: "Just find it on her wrist and tell me if you feel closer to one or two beats per second."
"Considering this is only our second time hanging out, the first time of which I was focused on food and right now we're in the middle of surgery, I'd say you have a pretty good tally there," Penny mumbled, holding both of Charity's feet in one arm as she maneuvered her way over to Charity's wrist, holding it between her fingers as she tried to find a pulse. Her own heart was racing, so she imagined that hers would be too, but distressingly it seemed rather slow. "One," she said, starting to get worried, and poked her in the side. "C'mon, Charity, stay with us.
"That's a bullshit answer and you know it," Penny told Zane, lifting a brow. "You were in med school pretty much the whole time, why just suddenly decide you no longer want to be a doctor?"
"Freighter captain. y'know, the big cargo ships on the Lakes. The Fitz and all that." As if they all knew the story of the Edmund Fitzgerald as well as she did. Where other children had gotten horror stories about strangers with candy, she'd gotten Gordon Lightfoot. "Family business, y'know. Dad was in the navy... oh, don't lose my jacket!" It was old, and now rather torn up and bloodied, but it was hers. She shook her head slowly, to keep it from spinning to hard, but she seemed a bit pale. "I'm here. Uh, kinda. I'll try to warn you if I'm gonna pass out." Though she felt rather like she was going to any second, so whether she'd get the warning out on time was anyone's guess.
Zane shot Penny a dark glare over Charity's slipping form. "I'm not discussing that with you, Vegas," he returned. Bullshit or not his personal choices in life weren't her concern. One more chunk of dead tissue was removed and then Zane began peering further inside to see if there was any he had missed. He didn't want to sew her up only to find he had to open her again later to take out more dead tissue. "I'm almost done, then I just have to sew up," he told the woman. At least she was holding on, despite the fact it sounded like her pulse was slow. It was very possible she was going into shock.
"I didn't know women could be freighter captains," he baited, trying to ensure she was paying attention to what was going on around her. He had found that women in traditionally male lines of work tended to jump quick at any suggestion they were incapable of doing their jobs simply because of their gender. He took his fingers out of her remaining flesh and picked up a small sewing kit. Not ideal, but like the rest of what he had, it would have to do. He removed a glove and got out the biggest sewing needle before digging in the first aid kit, hoping for some fishing line or at least something stronger than thread. There was none. "Do you have any other injuries?" he asked then, figuring it was best to know just in case she lost consciousness.
Penny just lifted a brow at him, not wanting to get into it now, since this was almost over and Charity seemed to be on a bit of a downturn. Instead she just focused on getting the job done, tucking that nugget of information in the back of her head for later. He wasn't getting off that easy. "No thread?" she asked, noting the sewing needle in one hand and his searching with the other. Well, crap, what were they gonna close this with, then? She looked around anxiously, still keeping one hand on Charity's wrist as a measure and the other supporting her feet. There had to be something around here they could use to sew with...
Charity's eyelids fluttered and for a moment she didn't respond. Then she seemed to shake herself and blink up at the ceiling. "Huh? Oh. Yeah I was a fuckin' captain. Got my license in my pocket 'n everything. Damn good one, too, 'f I say so myself. Uh. 'less my crew's all dead now. Then I'm pretty much awful." She took a couple deep breathes to try and revive herself, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "The whole left side there's kinda cut up." The stump twitched as she tried to gesture, and she bit out a couple choice swears. "Sorry. They all got cleaned out pretty quick and weren't real bad. But you're the doctor, an' all." The words came out fast and mumbled as she clamped her eyes shut, fighting to calm down as her stomach lurched beneath the wave of pain the small movement had sent through her. Bitter bile rose in her throat for a moment, but she managed to keep it down. There wasn't much besides booze to come back up anyhow.
"There's some thread but I wanted something stronger." He dug once more through the bag before settling on the fact he would have to use sewing string. "Any port in a storm.." he muttered, placing some blue thread through the eye of the needle. He spent a moment positioning the extra skin to see how he wanted to place it, and then pressed the needle through her flesh, doubling each stitch to try to make sure it held. "Penny, give Charity a few aspirin and see if you can unwind some of the bandages." He glanced at Charity to see if she was still conscious. So far so good. "I'll check the other cuts but if they were cleaned out, they're probably fine." He passed the line through again and again, working his way slowly around what would now be her new stump. "You're almost done," he told her.
"Um... right." Slowly putting her feet down, Penny went into the first aid kit, grabbing out the aspirin and nodding, pulling out three. She was sure that wouldn't make much of a dent, but it was better than nothing. Looking around, finding nothing but the booze, she went over and grabbed some whiskey before going to stand behind Charity. "Lift your head," she said slowly, putting the aspirin in the woman's mouth before holding her head steady, slowly dripping the whiskey into her mouth. Lingering a moment longer to make sure Charity swallowed it without choking, she put the whiskey down and then went back to the first aid kit, grabbing out the bandage roll and starting to unravel it, making sure to put the pin aside.
As Zane started sewing, Charity choked a bit and grabbed at the table with her remaining hand, screwing her eyes shut. Oh, fuck, that was almost worse than the cutting. "Yes, aspirin please." It wouldn't help with the sewing, but it'd give her something to do. She choked down the pills as best she could, gasping a bit after she swallowed the aspirin. "Goddamn." Her head was swimming again. "Okay, I'm... just gonna pass out now, kay?" She squeezed her eyes shut and gulped down air, trying to stay still, at the very least. Wouldn't do to rip everything open.
"Okay," Zane told her, glancing at her without stopping in his stitching. He was nearly done and even if it was still better for her to be conscious right now, it was bordering on torture. She'd been tough and earned a few moments of being numb. "I'm going to let Vegas slap you awake after, though," he warned. Whether or not that would stop her slip remained to be seen, along with whether or not Penny would actually smack the woman.
His furrowed his brows deeper, closing in on the last few inches of ripped flesh. "Penny, clean off the wounds on her side with one of the antiseptic wipes," he instructed as he tied off the thread and cut it with the bloodied scissors. He wiped over the whole area to clean it off and then examined his work.
Penny nodded, studying Charity with concern before ripping open an antiseptic wipe, gently going at the wounds on her side, checking up every now and then to see what her reaction was. "So I'm officially Vegas now?" she asked, lifting a brow a bit, still checking on Charity. "I guess you don't have to be clever to go to med school." She sighed a bit, going over them one more time for good measure (after all, who knew where she had been the past few days?), before tossing the wipe out. "Do you think she'll be okay?" she added on a whisper, staring at the stump of Charity's arm.
She hardly heard Zane's warning about slapping her awake - Charity sank into unconsciousness quite gratefully, her grip on the table loosening as the pain faded into the background. She was a tough girl, sure, and took pride in the fact. But there was only so much she could handle. Her breathing evened out slowly as the tension in her body slowly eased. It was something of a release. She hadn't felt quite safe enough before to let herself entirely pass out before, but now it'd probably take something a bit more than a gentle snap to shake her out of it.
"Until I think of something better, you're Vegas," he told the girl, watching Charity's form go limp. He sighed and reached for her wrist, putting his fingers on her pulse point and staring at the watch on his right arm. For one minute he was silent and counting. He laid her arm back down and gathered up the bandages Penny had prepped for him. "I don't know if she's going to be okay," he admitted. "She might have a systemic infection, and I can't do anything about that." He glanced back at the woman as he began wrapping the wound.
Once everything was wrapped tightly and Zane felt satisfied with what he'd done, he pushed all the used supplies into the trash can, and then pressed his hand against Charity's forehead, trying to get some read on her body temperature, but he couldn't tell enough to be sure of anything. At least she wasn't burning up. "Would you grab another water and get doors for me?" he asked Penny as he pushed his arms under Charity's limp form, pulling her up into his arms. "We need to find her a room to lay in."
Penny shook her head a bit, digging in her pocket and glad she still had her lockpicking tools in there. "There has to be a pharmacy near here somewhere, right? They'd have antibiotics. Once she wakes up we could find out if she's allergic to anything and then you could just give her some, right?" She was anxious, and it showed in her voice, as she went to the kitchen to grab some water, grabbing her shirt along the way and tugging it on. She had never assisted in anything like that before, never had even been within arms reach of something like that before, and the experience disturbed her. How did people do that on a daily basis?
Correction, how did they.
She shook her head again, trying not to dwell on that as she jogged back into the lobby with a couple of water bottles in her hand. "I think there are some rooms open on the sixth floor," Penny mused, pushing the call button for the elevator and smiling softly as it opened straight away. She took a step in and held the open door button for him, working her lip. "Should one of us stay with her, make sure she's alright?" She'd feel horrible if this woman up and died on them now, after all this.
"I was serious about you slapping her awake," Zane told the blonde as the elevator door closed and the tug on his insides told him they were rising. At least the electricity was still on. "As for antibiotics, I'm already waiting for Terry to come back. I'll talk to him about it." And inform the man of his medical knowledge. It was bound to spread now anyway, but Zane figured if someone was hurt and needed help. Terry was the most likely person they would go to, so it was best he knew where to turn if it was something life threatening.
Zane shifted Charity in his arms, her limp body growing heavier the longer he stood there. He was already tired, having spent more than five hours the day before running around the ruined streets and then being awake too late in Paige's room overnight. He closed his eyes, the lights in the elevator dimming down, and found himself feeling recharged. When the elevator opened he stepped out, peering along the closed hall full of doors. "What are you doing with those tools?" He nodded toward the items he had only just noticed her holding in her hand.
She scowled at him, shaking her head as they stepped off. "You had to do that on an elevator? If I hadn't known that was you I would've been scared to death." Penny shook her head and snorted a bit, looking around the hallway before just going over to the first door, kneeling down. "What's it look like I'm doing?" she mumbled, sticking them into the lock and turning them partway around before the door clicked open. She stood back up and held it open for him, looking around the room briefly. It didn't look like anyone had stuck claim on this room, so it seemed alright to stay here.
"It was that or drop her," Zane shot back. "I didn't realize were so damn paranoid about the dark." He stood in the hall while Penny picked at the lock with her tools. "So you pick locks?" he asked, brow raised though it was obvious that she did, in fact, do so. He stepped inside the room past the girl and went to lay Charity down on the bed there. Once again Zane checked her pulse. It felt good. "Alright, wake her up." He gestured toward the unconscious woman.
"During the Apocalypse when the power could run out at any moment and we're in an elevator? Yeah, I'm pretty paranoid," she snapped, rolling her eyes and tucking her tools back into her pocket. "I should use these on you and smother you with a pillow," she added under her breath, sighing and resting the water on the nightstand, looking down at Charity. "Charity, wake up," Penny said softly, shaking her chin a bit. "Charity..." She tapped her lightly a few times on the cheek. When that clearly didn't wake the woman, she reached back and slapped her pretty harshly, saying loudly, "Charity, wake up."
Charity's eyes flew open before she properly woke up, and for a moment, the room spun sickeningly. She shut them again pretty quick and groaned. "'m alive." The mumbled comment might have been a statement or a question, it was difficult to tell. "Feel like shit." She took a moment to come back to herself, though the alcohol and painkillers on an empty stomach were making everything exceptionally difficult to focus on. She did notice that she was on something soft, rather than the table. And the ceiling seemed different. She cracked open an eye to be sure - yep, had to be a different room.
Zane stood back while Penny slapped Charity awake, his arms crossed over his chest. He had only a slight concern that she might not come around. "Nice arm," he told the blonde.
"Yeah, you're alive," Zane confirmed, grabbing one of the waters and opening it for her. He handed it to her. "Try to drink that." He looked her over again, wishing there was some way he could see what was going on in her veins, whether or not further infection was really something to be concerned about. "Your arm is cleaned out and closed up. You might occasionally feel like it itches or tickles, on the part that's not there." He locked his eyes on hers, trying to judge if she was able to absorb all the information. "And if you feel sick at all, you need to tell me right away."
Penny nodded, staying by her side, making sure she was able to drink the water on her own. "If you need someone to stay with you I'll stay," she said softly, watching the woman as well, judging her as only a woman could. A doctor Zane may be; a people's person, he was not.
"Right, uh, thanks." She took the water and stared at it a moment, trying to shift a little. "I'm... gonna need someone to prop me up. Can't drink lying down." And she couldn't exactly prop herself up with her stump. "Don't feel great, doc. But, uh, booze and pain and shit." She certainly wasn't at her most eloquent. "Wouldn't mind some company for a bit. Not sure how coherent I'll be, though." She tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.
"Don't call me Doctor." Zane pulled Charity up and pushed some pillows behind her back. "I'm going to go get you something to eat and see if that helps you feel better," he told her. Booze, pain, and aspirin would make anyone feel like hell, not to mention dehydration and some shock. He nodded to Penny and then left the room, making note of the number on the door as he went.
She shook her head at Zane's insistence that he wasn't a doctor, and sat down gently on the bed next to Charity, helping her up so she could drink. "You'll be feeling better in no time," she soothed, keeping an arm around the woman's back to steady her. "He did a good job." Not that Penny would actually know for sure, but he had seemed confident and like he knew what he was doing, so that was good enough for her. "This'll be your room now, I'll go down and get your key for you later."
She gulped down the water, trying to pace herself, but it was rather difficult. The water bottle was empty before she pulled away. "Ugh. Uh, yeah. I'll try to keep some food down. Not sure I can, but I'll try." Charity nodded a little at Penny. "Our own rooms, huh? Guess there aren't... too many of us, then." More out in the city, maybe, but how big could the hotel really be? Granted, she hadn't looked at it too closely when she was being carried inside.
Leaving the two women to themselves, Zane made his way back down to the dining room. First, he cleaned up the mess they'd made, putting the tables back as they had been and wiping everything down with cleaner. Then he scrubbed his hands again before going into the kitchen to look for something to make for Charity. He combed the fridge and cupboards and finally settled on preparing a plate of eggs and sliced fruit--cooked food and fresh produce would soon be long gone anyway. He grabbed a glass of juice and made his way back up to the sixth floor, where he knocked before pushing his way into Charity's room.
He set the food down in front of the woman and took a seat on the edge of her bed. "Did you two have a nice girl talk?" He smirked.
"Just eat slowly, you'll be fine," Penny smiled at her, rubbing her back a bit in encouragement. "You have all the time in the world, right? I can only imagine it's been forever since you ate. Like I said, you have this room all to yourself." She shrugged a bit, tilting her head in thought. "I'm not sure, actually, I haven't met everyone. I'm a bit of a night owl, although I'm trying to change that. The hotel is decently sized, though, not too small. We could fit quite a few more groups of people here if we had to, before we even had to start doubling up." Penny kept a firm eye on her, not looking at Zane as he re-entered the room. "It was excellent, we were just guessing how large your penis is."
"All the time? Probably not. I imagine if I don't keep something down soon I'll very well starve... but if I can handle whiskey, I s'ppose I can handle most solids." She considered for a moment, the water having revived her some. For the moment. She did not want to try moving much right now. "Guess I'll meet everybody when I... meet them. I'll be out and wandering soon as I feel up to it, I expect. Don't like sitting around doing nothin'." She looked up as Zane walked in, then made a rather odd choking sound at Penny's comment, covering it with a rather fake cough as she looked away. "Dammit, don't make me laugh! Everything fuckin' hurts."
"I'm sure that was a rousing conversation," Zane deadpanned, raising his brow at Penny. Somehow he couldn't quite believe with the world having fallen apart that would have been their topic of choice. "I hope you like eggs," he said, turning back to Charity. "I can't stay much longer. I just want to make sure you get some food down and then I need to go wait for Terry to return. We have things to discuss." He eyed the bandages on the end of what was left of Charity's arm. So far they weren't seeping blood, which meant his stitch job hadn't been trash. "And I'll need to change your bandages a couple of times a day until I'm sure the infection is gone."
Penny smirked wickedly, rubbing her back again as she choked. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. Although I was wondering," she added, turning to Zane with a mildly amused brow lift. She would find that out later. She waited until Charity started eating to get up and draw Zane to the side, a nervous look on her face as she wrung her hands. "So what- what do I do?" Penny asked softly, nervously, eyes flashing towards the poor woman quickly. "What if she takes a turn for the worst? What if she wants to sleep?" She did not want this woman dying on her watch, and she knew that after a major surgery in a less than sterile environment, anything could happen.
Charity nodded and took the plate. "Hell, I'd probably eat anything right now." Though she took this slower than she had the water, eating in tiny bites and pushing the food around. She was so hungry right now that she rather didn't feel like eating, if that made any sense at all. "And you're on your own there, Penny. No offense." Sex was honestly the last thing on her mind, between the world ending and her injury. Not that she was terribly promiscuous in the best of times. "Where'll I find you, if I need to? And, uh, there any of that aspirin you can leave here? Unless others need it... shit, I'll just take the booze, I guess." She couldn't be the only one who'd run afoul of those... creatures.
Zane glanced over Penny's shoulder at the woman while she ate. "She should sleep," he told the girl, who looked out of her element while wringing her hands. She'd done nothing but ooze confidence every time he'd seen her so the change was a surprise. "If she starts vomiting or breaking out in chills or sweats, come get me. I'll be checking on her in a few hours anyway." He raised his hand as though he was going to touch Penny on the arm, but then thought better of it and dropped it to his side again. "You did a good job today," he told her as he stepped away and back toward the bed.
"You should take aspirin," Zane told Charity, his voice back to its normal volume now that the conversation with Penny was done. He pulled the bottle out of his pocket and set it on her nightstand. "Leave the booze for someone with a headache. It's not going to help your body right now." He hadn't really liked her drinking whiskey while he was operating to begin with--it could increase blood loss--but she'd needed something to help with the pain. "My room is 404 but I'll be in the lobby for the morning, and I'll be coming to check on you throughout the day," he told her as he stepped to her side and took her wrist again. Her pulse was still good. Then he felt her forehead: a little warm, he noted, but not enough to concern him. Yet. "Ladies." He nodded to them both and then stepped out the door, making his way back to the front lobby.