Hours before the alert, Libby’s laundry had finally dried. Cale had walked out about fifteen minutes before. She wondered if he had been single, if he would have talked to her. Probably not. Libby loaded up her clean laundry and proceeded back to her CHU. Her roommate was gone, as usual. Jack, an unusual name for a girl, was always in her boyfriend’s room. They’d been fortunate enough to be deployed together. Libby’s own relationship ended because her boyfriend, James, wasn’t sure if he could do the, what did he call it? Long distance thing? That’s right. It wasn’t until a week later that she learned he had gotten back together with his ex, with her bottle blonde hair and huge boobs. James had always complained about her.
“She’s a dumb ditz,” he would say. “I couldn’t even hold a conversation with her. Not to mention her voice, that nasally whining she does.”
He must not have disliked it that much. It hadn’t even been a day before they were back together. Libby hated thinking about him. She had more important things to do, like get ready for her shift at the aid station. Libby was a combat medic, and this week she’d drawn the short straw, the night shift. It would be 2000 to 0600 hours. That meant she’d be reading all night. She was only there in case of an emergency, but with all the convoys being grounded for the time being, she would have the night to herself. She got dressed in her ACUs and walked to the aid station. The medic attending the desk looked relieved to see her.
“Oh goody,” he said.
“Busy?” she asked.
“Yeah. A couple of guards at the south entry point got into a scuffle with a local national who tried to get in. He bit them, and then wandered off into the desert, probably coked out of his mind.”
“Wow. Really? Where are they?” she asked.
“One is in exam room one and the other is in five.”
“When did this happen?”
For them to still be at the aid station was weird, especially for bites.
“This afternoon. The Doc says he wants them to stay overnight, something about weird test results.”
As medics, they didn’t really do anything in a clinic setting. The doctor would only step in if the illness or injury was serious enough, but they’d handle initial checkups and vital signs.
“Awesome,” Libby said sarcastically.
The other medic packed his things quickly. He was married, but he wasn’t like the guy at the laundry facility. Last week he’d made a pass at Libby. They were alone in the aid station and he just flat out asked her.
“You want to go fuck in exam room four?”
She had to admit, she was kind of flirting with him but wasn’t aware she’d given him the signal. Even though she was taken aback by his bluntness, she still managed to answer with a quick ‘no.’
* * *
He’d looked disappointed by her answer. This tactic had worked with a few of the female medics. It was almost too easy. A little flirting, the occasional light touch, follow that up with just outright asking, and voila! Their panties were around their ankles as he bent them over the exam table. He always picked exam room four, because the counter was the perfect height to set his camera on. Set it to video mode and he was a porn star. He recorded himself fucking every girl he’d taken in there. Who cared what his wife thought? He knew for a fact she was fucking his brother, because his brother got drunk and told him once. His marriage was only for convenience. His wife and he had both agreed to it for the money the army would pay him.
“You sure?” he persisted. Maybe just one more push.
“Definitely not,” she answered.
“Well, if you ever change your mind—” he said, trailing off.
“No thank you,” Libby said sternly.
Tonight he just seemed anxious to leave. No flirting at all. Or at least that’s what she thought.
“What do you say, you and me go into exam room four?” he inquired.
“Still a no,” she replied.
He didn’t even try to be charming this time. The pleasantries were over.
“Fine,” he said.
It had been some time since he’d last gotten laid. For now, he’d just have to go back to his CHU and masturbate to one of his videos. It was a shame; a red head was all he needed to complete his set, and Libby was an exceptional looking red head. “Or were the Iraq goggles affecting his vision?” he pondered.
Thirty seconds later he was leaving, and she sat reading her book.
* * *
The doors to both exam rooms were closed, and the lights were out. It was starting to get dark when the soldier in exam room one stumbled out. His shirt was covered in vomit, and his skin looked pale. The gauze covering his hand had been scratched off. He slumped in the doorway, not looking up.
“Are you okay?” Libby asked, as she got up to help.
The soldier only moaned quietly. As she approached him, she could smell that he had soiled himself as well as vomited.
“Great,” she said aloud.
She attempted to assist him back into the room, and help him lay down. His skin felt cold and clammy. He was clearly disoriented; his full weight bore down on her as she moved him to the exam table. Just then, he seized her arm and bit into her flesh. White-hot streaks of pain shot through her body, and she pushed him to the floor.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she screamed at her patient.
He only whimpered. She closed the door, and locked it on her way out. She cradled her injured arm, careful not to disturb it.
That fucker just bit me! she thought.
She opened the emergency medical supply box mounted to the wall. She removed a bottle of alcohol, some gauze, and a role of medical tape. With her back to the exam rooms, she laid the supplies on the desk and grabbed a white cotton towel out of a cabinet.
“First things first. I have to stop the bleeding,” she said aloud, as her medical training instantly came to her.
She applied firm pressure to the bite with the towel. The pain was beginning to subside now.
Then sirens began blaring outside. The patient in exam room five was coming out now, probably to help her. She could hear him getting closer. Just as she’d turned around to talk to him, he barreled over the desk and tackled her.
“What the fuck?” she yelled.
Libby managed to turn and face her attacker. His skin was pale and he had vomit on his PT uniform. Her arms were pinned to her body, with his full weight on her. His teeth kept chomping. He leaned into her neck.
“Maybe I should have gone with him into exam room four. Then this wouldn’t have happened, “she thought, as her patient sunk his teeth into her neck.
His bite was deep, and she knew immediately, by the way her neck gushed blood with every beat of her heart, that she was going to die. She could hear the big voice, “…PERIMETER BREACH! ALL PERSONS REPORT TO ASSIGNED…” as she bled to death.
Today really wasn’t Libby’s day.
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