By Barb

Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something skitter across the baseboard of the floor. 'This must be some kind of warehouse' she surmised as she looked for a place to drag him for cover.

Barely conscious, Harm mumbled and groaned from time to time assuring her he was alive, but worrying her she hadn't much time to take proper action. Grabbing him by his belt, Mac dragged him to a flat, clear area under a large
work table. She spotted some fabric draped across some chairs as a paint drop cloth and rolled him onto it.

Hearing no sign of those who were looking for them before, she got up and opened the door a crack to spy if the coast was clear. Satisfied that it was, she returned to what she knew was going to be the hardest job she ever did.

Looking further, she found a half filled flask of whiskey sitting near the painter's tools and knew that would come in handy. Quickly, she set out to find as many clean or nearly clean rags as possible.

In a darkened office, she spotted a first aid kit, of all things and pried it open. Inside there were bandages, butterfly closures, and a thermometer, but not much else. Grabbing an ashtray, she went over to a sink and washed it out then went back to Harm's side to assemble her tools.

Extracting his knife from his boot, she laid that with the other supplies. Fortunately, the first aid kid contained a pair of latex gloves, and she slipped them on as fast as possible. The cover of the kit she tore away and poured about half of the whiskey into it and over the tools for quick sterilization. With the cotton balls, she swabbed his shoulder, cleansing the area around the wound and then took up the knife.

With the sharp point she drew a line where she wanted to cut and took a deep breath...

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