“High councilor.” He nodded in respect. “We have one dead, three on their way to death, and the remainder have injuries that are not life-threatening. Unfortunately, our probes and scanners can’t fix the severity of some wounds.”
“Something’s wrong. She’s bleeding profusely!”
We turned toward the shout. Another man knelt before the injured woman. “It just started and I can’t get it to stop. The ReGen wand doesn’t work!” He was panicking, his eyes wide as he watched the blood pump from the wound in her thigh. The man waved a small device over it, but there was no blue light this time, and I noticed no improvement.
“That’s an arterial bleed. I have to help.”
A hand on my arm stopped me.
I looked up at Tark. “You can spank me all you wish later, but I need to help. Now. She will be dead in a minute if it’s not stopped.” I tugged at the grip.
“The severe cases can be taken to the med unit,” Tark said.
“They will die before they arrive and there are no revitalization pods,” the man countered. Had he even seen an arterial bleed before?
“Fark,” Tark whispered.
I yanked even harder at Tark’s hold as I watched the blood begin to soak into the sand beneath the injured person. “I can help, you idiot mate. I’m a fucking doctor. It’s my job to help.”
“You?” the other man asked, stunned.
Either Tark loosened his grip or I’d been able to break free. I didn’t respond to the man’s remark, but instead said, “She needs a tourniquet immediately.” I dropped to my knees in the sand assessing the injury. I didn’t look up when I called out, “Find me some simple pliers and a needle and thread.”
The three men paused briefly.
“Now!” I shouted.
“Get her what she needs,” Tark commanded and they moved to do his bidding.
I grabbed the long hem of my robe and tore a strip from the bottom. Pushing it beneath her leg, I wrapped it around her thigh above the large gash, blood spurting from it. How she’d survived since the attack, I had no idea. My only thought was the woman had been injured further in rough transit. Yanking on the strip, I made a tight knot above the cut, the blood flow tapering off.
“Her femoral artery has been nicked. Perhaps moving her made it worse and it tore.” It didn’t matter how it happened, it just had to be fixed. I was thankful for the short length of the customary slip dress she wore, this time the lower half covered in blood. The robe on top was similar to mine, but did not cover her, instead was spread out beneath her on the ground.
I stuck my fingers into the gash and quickly found the nicked spot. “Get me the pliers.” I looked up and Tark was above me, shielding my eyes from the sun. He was a dark silhouette above me, but I knew it was he. “Pliers,” I repeated. “Some kind of clamp or a way to hold the artery closed while I sew up the hole.”
Before he could move, the man who’d met us came running up and handed me something similar to pliers. “This should work well.” With slippery fingers, I clamped off the artery. “I need someone to hold them.”
Tark knelt beside me, our shoulders bumping, and held them in place. “Keep them closed.”
“Needle and thread?” I asked.
It appeared to my left, the needle already threaded and ready to go. Leaning forward, I carefully and methodically sewed up the small hole. It only took a few stitches, but those small knots were the difference between life and death.
“Release the clamp, but don’t remove it. I need you to be ready to put pressure on once again if the sutures don’t hold.”
Tark loosened his grip on the clamp and we watched as the stitches held. I knew men stood above us, but I was not interested in them, only that the woman’s artery would hold.
“Can she be repaired with that… wand thing in the med unit?” I asked, my hands directly above the gash, ready to add more sutures if need be.
“Yes, now that the blood has stopped.”
I didn’t know who spoke, but he stood to my left.
“Use the ReGen Wand on her here before you try to move her. Get as much healing done as you can so there’s no chance it will open again. Only when the artery itself is repaired can you remove the tourniquet. But be quick, or she’ll lose her leg.” I waved my bloody hand in the air. “Either heal that artery, or be very, very careful when you take her to the pod thing you talked about.”
Several men took my place beside the patient. It was only then that I saw her face—that I paid attention to something besides the dire wound—and recognized Mara. I was covered to my forearms in her blood. I was glad to see she would make it. She might have been a total bitch, but that didn’t mean she deserved to die.
I turned away from her since she was stable and being tended. “The patients have been triaged, so who is next?” I glanced up to wait for the answer. When no one responded, I looked at the other wounded. “Who will die if they aren’t treated immediately?”