Page 2 of Chaos & Carnage

I ran to her side, hearing that whimper again as I moved her to access the gunshot wound, pushing my t-shirt against it. She wriggled a little. Weak, unable to move from the extra pain, I thrust upon her, and my heart sank lower into my stomach.

Where was this vet? She said five minutes. It felt like twenty. And I was counting each fucking second in my head. Come on. Come on.

Footsteps in the darkness grew louder, hurried short steps moving towards me, the green blur of the clothes she wore becoming sharper. She moved straight to the door, fumbling with something, then pushing it open and turning around.

“You with the dog that’s been shot?” she asked, stepping towards me tentatively.

I didn’t blame her for her caution as I rose from my knees, half standing up, keeping my hands clamped to the wound in Kinobi’s abdomen.

“No. I just hang around half-naked, covered in blood in the middle of the night for fun. I thought you said five minutes?” I snapped, the dog wriggling again at the change in pressure.

The vet bit her lip and I wasn’t sure whether it was at being scolded by a half-naked, blood-soaked crazy guy or at the scene in front of her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I relented.

“The dog. Can you bring it in?”

“Kinobi’s ashe.” The vet bit her lip again, turning back towards the door she had left open.

“What about the pressure on this wound?” I asked, this time more gently. “What do I do?”

She stepped in closer, the white cotton sleeve under the green scrubs brushing my arm, peering into the van.

“Ok,” the command in her voice was back. “I’ll take over the pressure if you lift her.”

She looked at me, waiting for a sign that I understood. I nodded.

“On my count,” she continued, reaching into the car, her hand covering mine, fingers gently wriggling underneath, her palm pushing against the blood-soaked t-shirt. “Ok. I’ve got the wound. Take your hand away and get ready to lift her.”

Nodding, I shuffled back slightly to let her into the space a bit more as I reached around her, sliding my hands under the dog’s shoulders and pelvis. Kinobi whined. Quieter than before, barely audible.

“I know girl,” the vet’s voice softened, calm and gentle, and even I relaxed a little, the tiniest break in the earlier tension. “We’ve got you. You’re going to be ok. I need you to be brave for me.” She spoke to her like a toddler, and I felt the dog relax against my hands. Just a little, a little exhale of air, a little note of hope.

When she spoke to me next, the soothing was gone, the command in her tone returning. “Lift her up on three. But slowly, ok?”

“Got it,” I answered, taking a deep breath, worry filling my lungs.

“One, two, three.”

I locked my elbows, lifting slowly, Kinobi exhaling heavily as I raised her from the seat. Together we shuffled out of the van, pausing just so I could kick the door back into place, and then gliding towards the open door of the vet’s offices.

Inside, light flooded the white walls and squeaky lino floor, and the vet moved with me, stepping in unison, slow, long, urgent strides.

“Through there,” she lifted her chin and for a moment I caught the light blue of her eyes, as I followed her gaze to a door at the far end of the waiting area.

We backed into it, shrinking into the tight space the doorframe created, our bodies jostling together, her green scrubs rustling against my skin. Then, carefully, we continued.

“Far end of the corridor,” she instructed. “Back through the doors. They’ll open with a little push.”

I nodded, for a moment searching her face, looking for hope and confidence, and finding little other than freckles on young skin. Nothing that matched the control in her voice. She bit her lip, her teeth raking at one corner, the blue eyes gentle, but full of uncertainty, and it seemed to pass into me, deep into my core, dragging my heart further into the murky depths of my stomach. We were going to lose Kinobi. I could see it in her eyes. Yet we pushed through the doors at the back of the vet’s office, anyway, laying the dog gently onto the steel table that sat ominously in the middle of the room.

Chapter Two

“Ok,” I started, “I need you to take over the pressure on the wound.”

“Why? What are you going to do?”

His voice was heightened, fear and panic strangling his words.