Alive on Arrival: Chapter 20

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20

“You,” she says, her grin disappearing. “Next stop is Harry’s bathroom. There's a first aid kit in there and that bandage needs changing. Last thing you need is an infection, Les.”

“And some Advil if you got it,” I said. “My fucking head hurts.”

“No more booze for you,” she says walking the length of corridor to my son’s old bathroom. “I should not have allowed you to drink what you have already.”

“Hey, I needed it,” I say. “The police could be on their way right now. Somehow I doubt they’d be into stopping at the stop n’ rob for a sixer on the way to the precinct.”

I follow her into the bathroom. She instructs me to sit down on the lid-covered toilet. She opens the drawer under the sink and pulls out a large, white, tin first aid kit with a red star painted on the front. It appears professional grade to me. Setting the kit onto the sink, she opens it and pulls out some surgical tape, gauze, and a pair of heavy-duty plastic surgical scissors. Placing them on the edge of the sink counter, she washes her hands, dries them, and then approaches me.

“Don’t move,” she says. “This might sting, Les.”