Monday, February 23, 2009 12:28 AM
Chapter Seven: Meet Carrie
Finally. The elevator doors split and revealed well furnished room. There were quite a number of people gathered here - some huddled around a desk; there was one girl just curled up in a corner and sobbing. One lady, in about her mid forties, was desperately trying to get the phone to work.
The land lines must have been cut too. Frustrated, she slammed the phone on the ground. It shattered into a thousand pieces. I stepped out of the lift, and suddenly I could feel everyone’s eyes staring at me. I was feeling quite uncomfortable. I could see that most of their eyes shifting to the deep wound on my shoulder – which I almost forgotten all about. My left arm was still numb. I could move it slightly but I thought it was best not to aggravate the wound any further. “Is Carrie here?” Mary asked a man in a blue shirt. He pointed over to a dark corner and walked away. Shrugging her shoulders at me, she brought me over to meet her friend.
“Hey Carrie, I need your help for a while. James here was attacked by one of the screechers, could you help him dress his wound?” Mary asked, in a rather casual tone. “Oh my! We should get that cleaned up right away. It might get badly infected.” Carrie said. She got up quickly and pulled me over to the pantry area. Over the sink, she washed my wound with antiseptic. It stung really badly but I tried to keep my yelps from escaping. She looked at me and saw me gritting my teeth really hard. She flashed a gentle smile at me and carried on working on my wound.
After about 10 minutes and a few muffled screams later, she was done. My left shoulder was bandaged and my arm was in a sling to prevent movement which might aggravate the wound. It looked professionally done. I thanked her and she smiled and went back to doing what she was doing before I appeared. I looked around, not knowing what to do next. The clock showed 21:00. Had it been that long since I left the house? I decided to rest until the next morning before deciding what to do next. Then, as though it was a sign, my stomach began to grumble very loudly. Mary heard it and giggled to herself. “Hold on a second,” she said. She disappeared into the pantry and reappeared with a loaf of bread and some lunch meat. “Help yourself. There’s plenty more where that came from.” Feeling rather embarrassed and knowing that there was probably a limited food supply in this building. I settled for just two slices of bread, hoping it would keep me full until the next morning.
