Page 24 of Collapse

“Mmm,” Evans managed while swallowing the last of her beer. “What are you doing?”

“Calling it in.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because we have five dead bodies here, four which are our responsibility.”

“They had it coming,” she growled, her eyes seemed even darker than usual.

“I’m not arguing with you on that point.” I meant it. I wasn’t even that surprised by it. I felt no sorrow for those men’s deaths.

“Good. Then stop talking gibberish and put the phone down.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Oh my God, you’re impossible.” She put down her empty bottle as well and snatched the battery out of my hand, before stuffing it into her jean pocket.

“Damn it, Evans. If you think I won’t…” My voice trailed off as I leaned toward her to take the battery back, and then noticed the bright yellow dishwasher gloves lying next to her. “What are those for?”

“You need to listen to me,” she said, giving me a stern look. “I’ve already called the right people. Help is coming.”

“With what phone? If we’re not using cell phones, that is.”

“The landline, smartass. To a burner phone that’s already been disposed of.”

“Wait…what?” Her words were suddenly starting to get through to me. Was she insane?

She grabbed the gloves and got up. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

I sat in stunned disbelief as I watched her go inside, pulling the gloves on. This was so beyond my life it took me a few moments to realize what was going on. Therightkind of help?

Shit.

I scrambled to my feet and went inside as Evans came back out from the kitchen and headed into the den. She had a few knives, scissors, and a pair of kitchen tongs with her. She pointedly didn’t look at me as she passed me and knelt down beside the kidnapper I had shot.

As she began cutting the man’s t-shirt I knew what she was up to. I wanted to ask her anyway, probably because that’s what you do, but I didn’t. Only watched as she cut open enough of the fabric for it to reveal the bullet wound. This little gaping, dark wound. Darker than the surrounding blood that had poured out of him.

After that, she grabbed a big sharp-looking knife, and then simply sat there. It took me a moment to realize she didn’t want to do this. The woman who’d thrown herself through the air with no hesitation, legs wrapped around a man’s neck so it broke. She was controlling her breathing now. Psyching herself up. Then she nodded decisively to herself, inhaled deeply, and made the first cut. She was going to get that bullet out, despite her aversion to what she was doing.

I felt numb. Stopped thinking about how we’d had different outcomes in sight for this mess. I walked into the kitchen with calm steps, found an unopened packet with a pair of dishwasher gloves by the sink, and grabbed them. Then I walked back and knelt down on the other side of the body as I pulled the gloves on. She looked at me with surprise, but it didn’t last long. Instead, she kept at it, as I helped, trying to give her room to get the bullet. At least it made it easier for her than using the kitchen tongs. She tried to cut her way straight in at first, but the bullet had entered at an angle lodging itself under the clavicle bone. It must have nicked an artery at some point. He’d died fast as blood gushed out of him.

At some point during this horror, I heard cars approaching. As this didn’t seem to bother Evans, I remained where I was.

“Pull this aside,” she said, her voice low, unusually weak.

I did not want to know what I was pulling aside, but as I did it I saw the damn bullet in there, wrapped in blood and tissue.

Voices interrupted the silence of the house. I saw several people enter the hallway, the large frame of Gerard first. So, she’d called her Community. I could see Rob following him, as well as Gary from the auto shop and his mechanic Alan. Two other men and two women I had not seen before also followed in behind the big man. They all stared at us a moment–me, for the most part, I guess. When they realized what we were doing, they didn’t seem to care.

Evans was concentrating on getting the bullet out, the gloves a couple of sizes too big for her. There was no point in us switching, though. My hands were too big to twist under the bone and into the little opening.

“Okay, guys. Spread out,” Gerard began. “Which rooms, Maggie?” he added, though sounding like he didn’t want to disturb her.

“Mostly here and the hallway, barely in the kitchen and the basement. Entrance outside,” she managed, breathing hard.

I hardly noticed as they dispersed, getting equipment from their cars and coming back in.

“I got it,” Evans finally said. “Wait…something else.” She strained her arm and then exhaled as she pulled out her hand, the once yellow glove, bright red up to the wrist now. She looked at the bullet and then sighed. “That was lucky.”

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