Page 47 of G8
He noticed Chief Adams jump into action, sending his men in to try and douse the fire. But it was quickly evident to all that this would be one event that would have to burn itself out. Realizing the futility of the situation, the fire department shifted their attention to the surrounding landscape to prevent the inferno from spreading.
When he determined it was safe enough, G8 sat up and pulled the piece of wooden shrapnel from his leg. Ingrid threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself close to him as P8 and F8 also embraced each other in the aftermath. They continued to watch the flames shooting out of the structure. From where they sat, they could feel the heat coming from the blaze.
“What…the fuck…just happened?” Sheriff Biggs numbly asked, coming over to join them.
P8 pointed toward the conflagration. “If I were to make a shrewd evaluation, I’d say the powers that be wanted to make certain nothing would ever be recovered from there.” He peered over his shoulder at G8. “Looks like you got your wish, big guy. We’ll never have to come back here again because there’ll be nothing left to do but sift through burnt rubble and ash.”
“I guess we’re all wondering now what was in those lower levels they didn’t want us to find,” Ingrid remarked.
“Not me,” F8 whispered. “I’m wondering whether they waited until we had all left the place before they pressed the button…or if they’d already pressed it but we’d managed to get out before they were aware we were gone…and spoiled their plans.”
22CELEBR8
It wasSheriff Biggs who finally broke the silence after they continued watching the seemingly never-ending flames spouting from the building like some giant campfire. “Might as well shuck those hazmat suits. Looks like we’re not going to need them anymore. And while I’m thinking about it, we’d better go eat before those hamburgers get too cold.”
P8 chuckled as he removed his gloves. “It’s not like we haven’t had cold hamburgers before.”
Regardless, they took their time getting out of their suits. G8 made sure to keep the bloodied side of his leg out of sight. It wasn’t until they all got to their feet to make their way over to the tent that Ingrid noticed G8’s slight limp.
“Why are you…” Peering around him, she spotted the blood droplets in the dirt. “Oh, geeze! You’re injured! Someone quick! Go get one of those paramedics to come take care of this!”
“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt that much,” he tried to assure her, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
“I thought I smelled blood,” F8 stated. “Why didn’t you tell us you were hurt?”
“A piece of something fell on us when the labs erupted,” G8 explained. “It’s no biggie.”
“No biggie?” Ingrid slapped him on the chest and glared at him. “You were hit by God knows what when you were saving our lives, and you claim it’s no biggie?”
Biggs ordered one of the other deputies to fetch an EMS tech. The man soon returned with a slender female who hurried up behind him with a kit. G8 saw the deputy say something to the sheriff.
“If you need me, I’ll be over helping the firefighters,” Biggs informed them before dashing away.
“Sit down,” the tech ordered, dropping to her knees in front of him.
G8 took a seat on the ground as there weren’t any chairs. F8 ran over to the tent and reappeared with a bottle of water to hand to him as the tech scissored away the leg of his jeans to expose the puncture wound.
“Do I drink this or pour it over my boo-boo?” he quipped.
“Drink it,” the paramedic told him in a no-nonsense tone. “Hold on. This might sting a bit.” She reached into the kit and withdrew a semi-transparent bottle with a squirt nozzle. Twisting the top, she squeezed some of its contents over the bloody spot.
G8 immediately hissed between his teeth as he involuntarily jerked his leg out of the way. “Shit! What do you mean by ‘a bit’? What is that stuff? Acid?”
“Plain ole alcohol,” the paramedic replied with a hint of a smile. “Now, hold still while I make sure you don’t have any splinters still inside.” She withdrew a black headband that had a small eyepiece attached to it. Sliding it over her head, she turned on the attached light that threw out a pinpoint beam. Retrieving a smaller object wrapped inside a white paper envelope from the kit, she tore it open to extract a pair of tweezers.
For the next few minutes she gently prodded and pushed inside the skin and muscle, extracting a couple of tiny wood slivers, until she was satisfied. After which she squeezed an antibiotic gel into the slit before wrapping his calf in a tight bandage. “Try not to run a marathon for the next couple of days and you should be fine,” the tech announced, giving his knee a pat. “If you start to experience a fever, or if you notice the wound feels hot to the touch, go get it checked out with your local doctor. Got me?”
“Yes. And thanks.”
He remained sitting on the ground and watched as the paramedic packed up and left. Once the woman was gone, Ingrid walked up to hand him a paper plate with a hamburger and potato chips.
“I don’t know how you like your burger, so I put the lettuce, tomato, and a slice of cheese on the side. There’s also dill pickle slices and onions back there, if you want them.”
He glanced down at the plate. “Thanks. This is good.”
“Do you like mayo or mustard on it? Or maybe you’re the kind who likes ketchup?”
He glanced over at where F8 and P8 were sitting and eating. “To be honest, we’ve never had our burgers with anything other than plain meat and bread.” Lifting the top of the bun, he stared at it for a moment. “What’s this?”
