Paterson, December 24th, 2000
The walk back is just as cold, but more fragrant. He has the scent of dirt and rot about him. More delousing and cleaning. Joys.
I radio George we're coming in and to have the civies away from the door we'll be using. No need to worry them any more than they are. I leave our latest acquisition in Doc's caring hands. She'll call when he's ready.
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"Major, I've got him in restraints. He wouldn't calm down, so I dosed him with a light sedative before conducting my exam."
"You got him to take a pill?"
"No, put it up the other way." Ewww. "once it took effect I conducted my exam. Kat, he's not talking because he doesn't have a tongue."
"What?"
"He's got a ragged and infected stump. From the state of the wound it's no more than three days old. I've started him on a regimen of anti-biotic and pain relief." Her glare dares me to comment on her expenditure of limited resources. This changes things. He's looking more like a victim than a enemy.
She rubs her forehead. "I haven't cleaned it out yet. He won't want to communicate after I clean and abrade the stump. I have shaved and cleaned him. He's ready when you are."
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We've got him in medical four point restraints in an interior room with the ceiling lights on. Let's them know that civilization is back. Even with the sedatives he tests his bonds and is raggedly breathing. I check with Doc and she nods a go ahead.
I set an alphabet board on his bed beside his hand. It has the alphabet, numbers, yes, no, and a few other symbols for communicating with patients who are cognizant, but have lost speech. there's a notebook and crayons on the bedside table for later.
"I'm Major Paterson, US Marines. I'm in command at this facility. Do you understand?" He nods points, YES.
"What's your name?" T O M
"Good, we've given you medication for your tongue." He flinches. "And pain relief. Are you still hurting?" YES.
I pull out the pain chart. "Point at your level of pain." There's a set of faces from smiling to bawling tears. He points at the crying face.
"You're in the worst pain you've ever felt?" NO.
Twenty questions. I try to get him to give me a pain level, but he keeps pointing from the crying face and tug at his cuffs.
"Your cuffs hurt?" NO
Tears run down his cheeks. G O. N O W. N I G H T.
"It's still afternoon. You're too sick to let out." P L E A S E. he jerks his arm and makes a shaking motion with his thumb, index, and forefinger together. "You want to write?" YES.
I place the paper pad beside him. "I'm going to remove your restraint and give you a crayon. Don't try to remove any others or we will lock you back down. Understand?" He nods slowly.
Yeah, victim for sure. The first think he scribbles is a crude man shaped figure with a long tube for a nose. He makes three stick figures below it. "'Eee," he forces out while pointing at one. "'On, ffff!"
Block letters fill the margins. I WATCH, IT COME NIGHT.
"You were watching when you saw it come?"
He points at I WATCH, scribbles FOR ARMY. He points at IT COME, scribbles EAT THEM.
"You're watching for us." Nods. "If you're not there at night it will kill the two. Your, son and wife?" YES
I point at the thing figure. "I've killed these things before. I want this one dead too. We'll get them back. Write out everything you remember." He scribbles.
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We live north. Scavange/trade.
Late, late. Hear man screem.
Went to him. He hurt. Take him in.
Wake. cant move. Is IT not him.
IT tells/shows/screams.
I watch or IT eat wife/son.
take me to road. leave me there. I watch.
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As he nears the end Alphabit comes into the room with water and soup. Rex follows at his heels.
As 'bit sets the meal down Rex leaps up on the bed. He sniffs at the man and settles near the foot to begin grooming. Tom smiles down.
I try to get him back to the writing while 'bit wheels out a bin full of Tom's rags. As the rank bin rolls past Rex starts and arches while glaring.
"Donald!"
"Yes, Major?"
"Leave that just outside. Stay with it."
He looks puzzled, but 'yes, ma'ams' me.
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"He's a little fogy on time, but I think he was grabbed in the wee hours of the 22nd. The same night our people were killed. The thing comes to him at night and questions him about the day's events. It doesn't talk. It screams in his head."
"Sounds like the Word of God," mutters Root.
"More like nails on the blackboard. But the point is, it'll be back tonight."
"Good, I'm going." Root making a statement not a request.
"Yeah, you, me, Leo, and Doc. Ed, Alphabit you're our backup. Stay here in case it does an end run."
"Right." and "Yes, ma'am."
"I don't want to take him, but I think we'll need Tom to lure it out. Doc can you put him to sleep? I don't know if him thinking about us will scare it off or not."
"Sure can."
"Good, we'll need to get moving soon. We've got to get there well before dark and prepare our positions. Oh, we're taking Rex too." Questioning looks. Doubting my sanity again?
"That cat's our early warning system. He twigged to whatever Jones was doing and freaked at the scent on Tom's clothes. The outermost layer had a barely detectable odor, like the reptile house. I'll take him, but he's coming."
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