Finding Forgiveness

“Shit,” I cursed.

Andrea began barking orders to the men in fast, deep Spanish as they brought the casualty who I could now see has a gaping wound on his side to the kitchen table. Blood gushed out and had instantly covered the table the floor and I could see that Andrea’s shirt was already entirely red.

“Move the plates, Blanca,” he said to me and I only had a few seconds to get mine and Chico’s plates out of the way before the man was laid down on his back on the table.

He let out a deep groan as people rushed around him.

A bucket of water was brought over and a pile of rags which Andrea held on the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

I watched dumbstruck as his shirt was cut off him and his head lolled backwards.

“What happened?” I asked.

“He was shot,” Andrea replied lifting up the rag to look.

“Don’t do that,” I said quickly. “You need to keep the pressure on it or he’ll bleed out in minutes.”

He looked up at me briefly before nodding and putting the rags back down.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Push down hard to stop the bleeding,” I said. “But try not to crush the ribs because they’re right there,” I added pointing to just above the wound. “And that could cause internal bleeding.”

He nodded again and did exactly what I said.

“The woman is in charge,” he told his men. “La Mujer esta a cargo, si?”

They all looked from Andrea to me hesitantly but nodded, knowing better than to question him.

“I need a clean cloth,” I added looking at the man’s paled face. “And somebody put some antiseptic or salt in that water.”

Andrea repeated in Spanish and his men began scrambling around and soon enough I had a new cloth in my hand and the water was being sterilised.

I brought my ear to his chest and listened to his heart and then his breathing.

“Fuck,” I cursed.

His head was flopped to the side and his eyes half closed as he let out a hoarse croak.

“What?!” Andrea said.

“He’s stopped breathing,” I replied tilted his head back.

“Then do something-” he began stepping forward.

“You just keep the pressure on the wound and let me deal with it, I know what to do,” I shouted.

He immediately shut up and just held the rags on the man’s side as I glanced down his throat. As far as I could see, there was nothing so I brought my mouth to his and began to breathe for us both.

Andrea watched as I inflated his lungs three times before listening to his chest again and repeating.

“Is he conscious?” he asked.

I shook my head, “He’s lost a lot of blood and has been starved of oxygen.”

“Will he live?” he questioned.

“I don’t know yet,” I replied.

The fourth time I gave him mouth to mouth, his chest finally contracted and he took a huge breath of air.

I allowed my self to let out a sigh of relief for a few seconds but my work wasn’t done yet.

“How much blood did he lose?” I asked.

“The back of the car is drowning in it, the kitchen looks like a massacre scene,” he replied. “He’s lost gallons.”

“You’ve got to take him to a hospital,” I said. “He’s gonna need a transfusion and stitches.”

“And sentence him to the rest of his life in prison?!” Andrea asked. “He stays here.”

“And dies on your kitchen table?” I asked. “What’s worse?!”

“Do everything you can to save him,” he replied.

The next hour was terrible. I could practically feel this man’s life fading in my hands. Only the faintest heartbeat and weakest breaths reassured me he was still alive as I worked tirelessly to keep him that way.

He still lay entirely still but the wound had atleast begun to clot and when I ordered Andrea to slowly remove the pressure, we were met with only a slight oozing of blood.

“Chico, get the surgical thread and needle,” Andrea ordered

Chico nodded and disappeared and opened a drawer in the kitchen and pulled a box out which he then handed to me, inside was a real of blue sterile tape and a needle still in its clinical wrapper.

“Did you steal this from a hospital?” I joked.

Andrea looked at me blankly and then I remembered who he was and how obvious the answer was.

I then dipped the cloth in the water and cleaned the wound.

“The bullet is still in there?” I asked.

He nodded.

I turned to the medical kit beside me and dug around for a pair of tweezers.

“There might be two,” Andrea added as I brought the tweezers to the wound.

“If he wakes up now, somebody knock him out, okay?” I said looking up to the men. “I need him completely still.”

They all nodded and I began to search through the blood and tissue for the bullet.

It wasn’t long before I felt something that definitely wasn’t human body and pulled it out revealing a huge metal bullet. Right next to it, was another.

“Will you thread the needle, please Chico,” I said. “But disinfect your hands with the gel first.”

He obeyed as I retrieved the final bullet before handing it to me.

I took a deep breath and pulled the bright lamp one of the men had set up on the table closer to the wound.

“Have you done this be-” Andrea began.