|The White Witch - Whisper Coming September 2018
| 01:01:10 17 August 2018
On forum: 02/20/2010
Message edited by:
The White Witch - Whisper Coming September 2018|
After we’d left the gate house I pulled out the binoculars and turned right, looking south and west down a rough, rutted roadway some 200’ long where I could see another roadway that intersected it running north and west to the right and south and east to the left. Judging that to be the easiest route against venturing straight south and east into the woods, I started us out down the road way.
We’d traveled 200’ and were at the T of the roadway when I just registered the first barks of the dogs behind us and hoping they were far away and uninterested in us, picked up our pace just a little anyway after turning left on the new rutted roadway that now ran south and east in the direction of Yanov.
We were another 360 feet down this new road when I heard the dogs again, closer behind us this time than last, still barking occasionally but hopefully not on our trail. We had come upon a clearing in the roadway that was packed with abandoned vehicles on both sides apparently driven off the roadway and parked at an angle, nearly door to door, hoods into the wooded area that bordered the roadway.
I was getting clicks on my PDA Geiger indicating radiation but nothing lethal yet so I continued on down the roadway and we were half way through this vehicle graveyard when I heard the dogs behind us begin baying and howling having caught on to our scent.
“Shit!” I spat out looking left and right for a defensive place from which to fight this new upcoming battle.
Alina, who had been plowing along hanging even more heavily on me snapped out of her stupor and groggily asked.
“What? What is the matter?”
“We gotta find a defensive point and fast Alina. There’s dogs coming up behind us and from the sound of it we don’t have much time.” I replied as calmly as I could under the circumstances.
“Where!” She asked, now fully alert and looking back over her shoulder.
“Don’t know yet Babe. Behind us and coming fast.”
“What do we do?” Now she was scared, her eyes huge and her scans darting left, right and behind us.
“This way.” I said as I headed toward a large bus I’d noticed, rusting just ahead of us.
We cut off the roadway down a 24” wide gap between the bus and a large panel truck and when I reached the rear bus doors I yanked on them discovering them solidly and frustratingly locked so we headed fast further up the gap till we got to the front door which I discovered still open.
I was helping Alina into the bus when I heard the baying and barking somewhere near the head of the vehicle graveyard, just seconds from being on us and after apologizing out loud, grabbed her back end and shoved her hard into the drivers side seat where she lost her balance and toppled onto the seat askew as I jumped into the bus myself and began yanking at the reticulating, door arm to close the door, finding it horrifyingly jammed open.
“Whut thu..!” I exclaimed as I leaned and slammed on the handle trying fruitlessly to get it to close as the dogs rounded the rear corner of the bus and started heading toward the door, now standing open, snarling and growling in anticipation of the attack.
“COME… ON… YOU… MUTHER…” I’d been leaning on the arm when it suddenly broke loose and the doors slammed shut just as the first dog reached it, stopping up short, standing just outside the door scratching, barking and snarling to get in.
“BITCH!” I screamed at it as I unsnapped my holster and drew the .45 out in one quick motion, holding off pulling the trigger just as I realized it wasn’t getting in and started to calm down.
With the door safely shut, the dogs climbing over each other in the narrow space outside, barking and snarling I began to collect my head and turned around to check on Alina where I found her scrunched up on the torn up, driver’s seat, knees below her chin, arms folded around them, eyes tightly closed and shaking so hard I was sure the seat was gonna break through.
“Relax Babe!” I shouted over the din of the ruckus outside. “They can’t get in. We’re safe in here for the moment.”
After a couple minutes she opened her eyes and seeing the dogs at the door across from her and behind me pawing savagely at the glass door, closed them again just as quickly.
I could now see she had a nasty gash on her forehead where she had apparently hit something when I shoved her inside. I could also see a large torn section of her pants still attached to one of the lower springs of the seat she was sitting on that exposed her naked right hip from the just below the belt line to half way down her thigh.
Well so much for guessing she has no underwear. I thought as I shifted my attention back to the dogs.
They were moving pretty quick out there but every now and then would stop to untangle themselves and seeing this, a plan began to form in my head.
Looking down the clear isle of the buss I untangled myself from the arm assembly and started down the aisle about half way where I stopped and climbed into the seat, rolled the shotgun around from my back and into my hands and after reversing the direction, raised the gun, butt forward and smacked it several times on the bus window till it broke completely out dropping glass fragments over the ground behind the dogs who now, hearing the commotion, had realigned their attention to jumping at the window.
Then I leaned back against the rear of the seat in front of the one I was kneeling on, aimed the shotgun out the window and down on the dos backs and after a brief moment, pulled the trigger, jacked a new round and pulled the trigger again, jacking another round and pausing.
One of the three went down out of sight and another went yelping up the narrow pass toward the front of the bus and the woods beyond. The third, followed it unharmed and out of my range unless I turned completely around and broke out another window, where it stayed snarling and growling as if taunting me.
Fighting the overwhelming urge to change direction of aim, I kept my position and waited. After another 4 minutes the third dog moved down the aisle under my sights and I pulled the trigger again, jacked another round and pulled it one more time, quickly jacking another round under the hammer and pausing.
My ears were ringing from the close range, closed area shots and Alina was screaming in horror from the front of the bus but there was no more barking or snarling that I could discern and after Alina finished her scream, there was silence.
“The dogs are gone Babe.”
“Where?” She asked.
“Will they come back?” She asked, eyes wide with fright again.
“That’s always a possibility.” I replied. “But doubtful. I got two and wounded the third bad enough that it limped out of her probably to die someplace close by.”
“You got all of them.” She asked, hope filling her voice.
“I got two. The third will die someplace close by.”
“How can you be sure?” She begged again.
“I know what I shot and I know how well the hit was. It’ll die sooner than later and not far from here. It’s probably bleeding out right now.”
“We will wait then? Maybe an hour to be sure?”
Her adrenalin had kicked in and she was pinging now like an over tightened guitar string. Fully aware and sharp. If we were gonna make any time at all, now was the time to move while she had the energy.
“No Babe. We gotta go, now. We can’t stay here, Gomer might come along and that would be bad.”
I felt a little bad about lying about the Gomer but I needed her moving willingly as quickly as I could get her going to take advantage of the adrenalin rush and I was moving up the aisle for the front door as she pleaded one more time to wait.
At the front I jerked the reticulating arm in the opposite direction and the door opened but not without a great deal of resistance.
With the shot gun raised I stuck my head out and scanned both directions but saw nothing other than the dead dogs laying between the two vehicles and a heavy trail of blood leading toward the front of the bus and into the woods beyond.
“Comon.” I said and stepped out of the bus, turned toward the rear and the roadway beyond and took one step when I heard her say.
“No. Please! We wait some more!”
I didn’t figure I had a lot of time here so I kept walking and simply said.
“You wait then. I’m gone.”
And was rewarded less than 5 seconds later by the sound of scrambling feet exiting the bus behind me, then the gasp of “Oh my God!” as she found the two dead dogs and finally her body slamming into my back as I neared the end of the bus and slowed to look out.
“You would leave me?” She accused, quietly but with great emphasis.
“No.” I replied as I scanned right then left and seeing nothing, moved swiftly out of the passage and turned left to regain the south and east trek as before.
“But you did.” She insisted.
“You’re here right?”
“That is not the point.” She followed up, warming to the fight.
I was about to shut her down again when I thought it might be more efficient to keep her wound up than to let her wind down.
“What point?” I started. “You are here. Not there. You came on your own.
Then as an afterthought I added what I knew, always sparked a woman up. “You are wrong about that.”
Sure enough, it fired her up and she started on a low level tirade that lasted another 500’ of un assisted walking and fuming till we came upon a new, asphalt cross road that went north, northeast to the left and south, southwest to the right.
Turning right I could see a small building about 200’ down the roadway at another T- intersection with some type of bridgework piping system crossing our roadway near it.
I started down the road while she stormed along behind me but I could already hear her losing steam and after we’d gone 100’ she was silent again, plodding along half aware of what was going on around her and I’d slowed up again to wrap my left arm around her waist as she wrapped her right over my shoulder.
The woods still bordered the roadway and as we neared the piping I’d seen earlier I could clearly see two, 10” dia. Pipes with some type of insulation wrapped around them and falling off in places, that exited the woods, turned 90 degrees up a rusting, steel bridgework structure, turned again level about 8’ high and traveled over the road then returned again to the ground and continued it’s path back into the woods disappearing after 8 or 10 feet, just beyond that lay the small building I’d seen earlier.
We needed someplace to rest and that shack that might just do it.
By the time we were passing under the pipes, about 25’ from the shack I was seriously considering the need to carry Alina the remaining distance but she made it on her own and after opening the door, .45 raised and ready and finding absolutely nothing in the room, I held it open for her and she plodded into the cool, dark interior, slid down to her knees and then her bottom exhausted.
The shack was a single room quarters about 8’ wide by 12’ long with a single door on one end and a small window on the other. There was nothing at all inside, the floors actually swept clear and that bothered me for some reason that I couldn’t put my finger on.
Probably used for storage at one time. I thought as I noted the still intact if dirty window in the opposite wall.
“Rest here a minute Alina. I’ll be right back.”
Upon approaching I’d noticed some type of antenna just 50 feet away from the building with a platform maybe 60’ up for observation or electronic work and I wanted to see if I could get up there to get bearings.
As I crossed the road I could now make out three, shipping containers at the base of it and slowed to approach a little more cautiously.
The tree line itself had grown around, up to and between the three cons and that suggested that no one was using them as a consistent habitat and as such, they were probably empty but that didn’t guaranty it and as I got within 30’ of them I heard the snorting and rutting noises of a group of wild boar and froze up in my tracks.
Boars were bad news. Definitely an animal to be reckoned with carefully.
Like the unaffected version of boar before the Zone, these animals hunted in packs of 3 or more, typically rutting for roots and vegetation but with a newly developed, cannibalistic meat is also on the dietary menu as well.
They increased in size and weight substantially reaching 48” at the shoulder and weighing in at nearly 500lbs. More the size of small buffalos they became highly aggressive by nature, known to charge a target 100' away and chase it till either they caught up and mauled it or lost sight of it, lost a great deal of their body fur and with a newly developed a carnivorous appetite combined with a physical shape change in the hoofs, resulting in a resemblance to claws. They have also grown an extra pair of tusks which are easily recognized and used effectively for mauling.
Zone boars resist radiation well, which allows them to spend long periods in heavily contaminated areas with little immediate effects and being territorial in nature, small groups have been known to defend their territory to the death. They normally attack by charging, ripping the victim to shreds with their claws and tusks and are especially dangerous when they attack as a group, surrounding their victim then using tactics similar to wolves.
While I had a pretty good view of the back of the three cons I had no view of any of the boars that I could now, clearly hear as my view of the area was still blocked here and there by the cons themselves and several small trees.
What bothered me most about this was that if one of the boars charged, I’d have a difficult time seeing it in this foliage until it was within 12 feet of me, vastly reducing my reaction time and effectiveness so I stood there quietly watching for what I could see, trying desperately to make out the boar.
After three minutes of waiting I was too impatient to go on. I wanted to get up in that tower for the view and I wasn’t gonna let some pigs stop me regardless of how dangerous they might be so I carefully made my way through the thicket to the edge of the first con and started down it.
I was about half way when I got my first glimpse of the boar. Just the back end when it swung its rear end around, and exposed itself in the front of the cons but it stopped me short and scared the hell out of me.
It was big. Maybe 250 lbs and from the looks of the beast, exposed hind quarters it had been its share of fights.
I had the shot gun up as I started creeping again and when I reached the front corner of the con, I could see a clearing area where a fire pit had been laid out with brick and a spit built into it. There were also several pots and pans, cans and other the remnants of cloth, maybe clothing scattered about the clearing too and as I got closer to the corner I was able to finally see nearly all of the one I was looking at before plus two more smaller ones, busy tearing apart what appeared to be the carcass of another boar in the clearing in front of the cons.
None of them had seen me yet as I stood there trying to decide how to handle the shooting part, and then the big one suddenly stopped chewing, raised its head up sniffing the air and then to my horror, turned its satanic gaze right at me and for a moment I thought it was smiling at me.
I was still sighting down the barrel of the shotgun into its face and when it looked like it had made up its mind to charge, I pulled the trigger, jacked another shell into the breach, re-aligned and pulled the trigger again jacking yet another round in as quickly as I could.
Neither of the two rounds had done much damage to the thick boned cranium of the boar but the two shots throwing 60, BB pellets at near the speed of sound had destroyed both its eyes sending it blindly and furiously raging off to the left, between the second and first con for whatever reason, leaving me to contend with the other two who were now both in the process of charging me from only 30’ away.
I knowing I couldn’t run, I was committed to engaging the minute the big one had seen me since they would chase me till I either found a tree I could limp to and climb fast enough to escape the charge or I got mauled to death so standing at the corner of the con I steadied the shotgun and calmed myself as much as I could, aimed at the face of the next biggest one and pulled the trigger again jacking a new round right behind it and scored a direct forehead hit, taking out both its eyes as well, sending it veering off to find the first maybe and leaving the third on its own.
I was realigning the third when it must have sensed the danger to itself and suddenly veered to its left, skidding in the dirt as it changed course and loped off some 40’ across the clearing before stopping and turning around to face me again.
At 40 feet I was still tempted to shoot but I knew It would have little effect at this range and unless I managed to get its eyes too, I be down to one or two shells left in the shotgun and forced to draw the .45 and that didn’t excite me at all so I stood there sighting it from across the clearing, listening to the other two howling in pain somewhere in the distance behind me and waited for it to decide what to do.
After what seemed like an eternity, it snorted a couple times at me, rutted the dirt in front of it then casually turned and lumbered off into the woods paying me or its companions no more attention.
Again, I was in no hurry to move, leery of some unexpected tactic so I stood there tensely, watching for anything it might try but after 4 or 5 minutes of nothing, I lowered the shotgun a bit and limped my way slowly into the clearing.
As I approached the fire pit I suddenly realized that what I had taken for the carcass of another boar was in fact the carcass of a man, the arms and legs savagely torn apart, mostly eaten leaving behind several bone fragments and clothing.
As I looked over the camp site I noted to my right, the remnants of a uniform shoulder patch and from the insignia determined it to have once belonged to a member of the wolf clan bandits. The scumbag had apparently been alone being as no other sign of anyone else was present and gotten ambushed by the three boars.
Forcing my attention away from the corpse, further examination of the camp site produced a prize I was surly not expecting. There, leaning against the wall of the first con I’d rounded, next to the doorway was an unfired, nearly pristine, American Remington VM tactical shotgun!
If anything could make my day, this find had done it.
I moved quickly around the corner and after leaning my Remington against the wall, scooped up the VM auto and after a brief inspection determined it to be in excellent condition and fully loaded.
The Remington VM is considered to be one of the most reliable, autoloader, 12 gauge assault shotguns available. This particular on was apparently customized with a picatinny rail, forward barrel-clamp side rails on it 22” long barrel with an extended magazine allowing 8 rounds in the mag and 1 more in the breach. This shot gun is great for self defense for any number of reasons not the least being that its recoil is like that of a 20ga gun and the ability to fire 9 rounds without pumping the mag.
Setting it down again I picked up my pump action, cycled the remaining three rounds out of the breach and magazine and after collecting them from the ground, put them into my vest pocket. Then I removed the sling from it and set the gun back down empty.
After picking up the VM, attaching the sling and slipping it over my shoulder, I stepped to the side of the closed door, covered it and turned the lever, pushing it open, ready for anyone who might be inside but when nothing happened outside of the door swinging shut again, I opened it again a little less cautiously and peered into the gloomy interior.
At first inspection two things registered clearly. One, it was obvious that there was no one inside since there was nothing in it larger than a chair that could be used as a hiding place so I stepped quickly into the con and allowed the door to swing shut and latch behind me protecting my flank from a sneak attack and two, that this can had until recently, been used as a living quarters for someone, probably the unlucky bastard outside from the bedding, nearly spent candles, small boxes of provisions and books neatly laid out.
It took me about 10 minutes to go over the entire stash but after I had finished I’d added another box of 12 gauge shells, 2 clips of 9-19 pistol ammo that Alia was carrying and several personal affects including a wad of money in both US and Russian currency, a sleeping bag, a bed roll and a half roll of toilet paper. Alia would appreciate that.
Retracing my footsteps back to the door I cracked it open and peered outside but seeing nothing threatening, I opened it fully and stepped outside with my new shotgun and quickly surveyed the clearing for anything new.
Finding nothing had changed I scanned the clearing again and looking up, found the tower I was heading for within the trees maybe 60 feet away from me and started to make my way toward it, stepping around the carnage, the fire pit and across the clearing to the woods on the opposite side.
I couldn’t hear the boars anymore so I assumed they were gone away and started threading my way through the wooded area in the direction of the tower.
I’d gone only a short distance when I walked out into another clearing, free of all but several young saplings with the antenna assembly sprouting from the center and a 6’ tall chain link fence around it.
Ahead of me I could see that the fence gate had been cut open and the bars that would normally prevent anyone from using the tower ladder had also been removed so I altered my course slightly and entered the fenced area.
As I passed through the opening I had a thought and stopping there, I pulled the gate shot then threaded a piece of chain through the gate and fence to secure the gate shut and moved on to the antenna.
The antenna itself was consisted of a 20” diameter, steel mast about 50’ tall with a metal ladder and circular climber cage welded to it that ascended to a steel platform mounted to the top of the mast. Mounted to the platform and braced by the hand rails were two, 40’ tall antennas with several 30” diameter dish antennas mounted below the platform as well.
As I approached the base it was apparent that I would need to abandon the backpack to fit within the climb cage so I shrugged it off and set it on the ground to the side of the mast and mounted the ladder to start my climb.
The climb itself was difficult with the brace. It had a tendency to slide on the rung if I didn’t pay attention to the placement of my boot but I made it to the top without mishap and after getting myself situated, I pulled out the binoculars again and started a slow pan of the area.
From this height I could clearly see the top of the Yaniv train station, east, south east of me and the reticule markings estimated the distance to be about a thousand yards away and that was too far for the electronics in the binocular to pick up any heat readings that would affirm people there.
I also noted that the terrain directly between the station and where we were now was heavily forested and that meant hard and long travel.
There were however, alternative routes I noted as I was scanning.
Heading directly south of us was a 30’ wide clearing cut into the woods that ran south, all the way to the tracks. The clearing had been maintained at one time for the now abandoned power transmission lines that ran south into Yaniv and north into Pripyat and although that regular maintenance had ceased many years ago, the clearing had only high grass and a few small trees it it. The walking would be difficult but doable.
There was also the roadway we were currently on that ran paved although broken, parallel with the tracks, due west into Chernobyl and although there was a separation distance of what looked like 400 yards of woods between this roadway and the station, it appeared that there was also some type of perpendicular road that ran due south through the woods to the north side of the tracks across from the station making it conceivable that we could use the roads then cross the tracks and be at the station far faster than trudging through the tall grass or the dense woods.
Either way posed threats and dangers but the roadway made swifter travel and for Alina, that was what mattered most.
With the route now determined I took a couple extra minutes to scan the rest of the area around us and although I found a couple signs of encampments trailing camp fire smoke, I saw no Stalkers in the open.
I also saw a group of flesh and dogs far east of us on the same roadway we were about to travel on but I put the distance at over 700 yards and I figured we’d be turning south before they got to the tower here and as such, didn’t matter much so I put the binoculars back into the case and turned to descend back down the ladder.
On the ground again I grabbed up the backpack and made my way back out of the enclosure taking care to reset the latch on the gate as I closed it, then through the short wooded area and back into the camp clearing.
When I got back to the small shed where I’d left Alina I started to turn the handle of the door and three shots from inside the shed tore ragged holes in the door, narrowly missing my BPV.
“Alina!” I called out as I jerked back and off to the side to avoid being shot.
It’s me! Bridger! Don’t shoot again!
“Oh my God.” She whimpered back.
“I’m sorry! I thought it was someone bad!”
“I’ve been called worse.” I said as I turned the handle again and standing again away from the center of the door just in case and pushed it open.
As I stepped into the shack and my eyes acclimated to the darkness I found her in the far corner getting up shakily and as I walked in she literally ran into me, embracing me and sobbing again.
“I woke up when I heard the shots and I, I thought you might be dead and I was too frightened to even look out the window.” She sobbed as I held her tightly.
“Then to make things even more bad I nearly killed you now.” And she sobbed even harder.
“Alina. Relax Babe. It’s ok.” I cooed as I stroked her hair and waited as she calmed back down. “I figured out where we are and how to get to where we need to be so we’re good now but we need to get going. Are you ok?”
“I am fine.”
“We need to head down the road here a ways, then turn right and about half again as far and we will be at Yaniv station.”
“That is good news. Why did you shoot?
“Pest control Babe. Don’t worry about it.”
“Right.” She said and smiled her mocking smile at me.
I chuckled and as I pulled the canteen out again, said. “First you drink some, then let’s get goin again.” And I handed her the canteen which she gratefully accepted and drank long on, finally handing it back to me when she was through.
“Ready?” I asked and when she smiled at me I turned to head back out the door.
Read the entire story...
Coming September 2018!
| 16:59:05 17 August 2018
On forum: 02/20/2010
Looking For Input|
I'm looking looking for some input on the believability/acceptability of this new, imaginary drug I've cooked up.
Any suggestions on tweaking it?
*** --- *** --- *** --- *** --- *** --- *** --- ***
We’ll let the saline run a couple minutes then I’ll give her some blood. Maybe an hour and she should be stable enough to transport again to the hospital at Saganaw.
When he mentioned the blood part I was surprised but when he said an hour to transport I was really surprised.
“That quick huh? I said. “I was impressed with your bag of tricks doc but where do you keep refrigerant to transport blood? Is it here?” I asked, looking quickly around the room.
“No. Sorry. I meant an HbMb blood sub.” He said as he started to clean and closely inspect the shot wounds.
“Ok.” I said, immediately curious. “So what is HbMb blood substitute?”
“It’s a synthetic, blood substitute. Complicated.” He replied absently, without looking away from his work.
When he said that I lifted my gaze, looked at him and said in a slightly irritated tone.
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t interested.”
At that he immediately lifted his gaze as well and matched mine for a moment then said.
“No offense meant Stalker. It’s just that most people get lost after I mention the word synthetic.”
“Try me.” I replied sternly.
“Ok.” He started and as he warmed up, returned his attention to the wounds.
“Let me know if I get too technical for you.”
“You’ll be surprised.” I replied coldly.
“The problem with field blood delivery is threefold.
1) It doesn’t last without cold storage, 2) it requires a donor not engaged in or about to engage in combat and 3) it requires a common blood type.
I’m sure you’re aware that makes it extremely complicated outside a hospital or M.A.S.H. unit?”
“Yeah.” I replied, familiar with this from my Afghan, triage experience.
“Well, this conundrum led to research into a non-biological replacement that could satisfy all the basic issues and then manage to bond with and transport enough oxygen, or O2 to be suitable for use.
Are you with me so far?” He asked.
“Yeah. I know about cold storage, transfusions and blood type compatibility.” I replied. “But what’s the quantity issue?”
“Ok.” He continued.
“O2 by itself, is only marginally soluble in any liquid. Only about 8 mg of O2/liter. Less than 0.0001 milliliters, in blood plasma at a physiological pH so if we had to rely on only the oxygen that dissolved in blood alone, as our only source of O2, we would only get about 1% of the oxygen that we need to function.
What we need is another mechanism within the blood that will attach to and transport greater amounts of O2 through the blood system than the plasma itself can alone and that mechanism is a protein known as hemoglobin, or Hb for short.
Our blood stream contains about 150 gigaliters of hemoglobin, which is so efficient as an oxygen-carrier that when the two are combined, hemoglobin and oxygen, the concentration of Hb-O2 in the blood stream can reach 0.01 milliliters, roughly a thousand times the amount and about the same concentration as air itself.
Then, once the Hb-O2 complex transported by our blood reaches the tissues that consume the oxygen, the O2 molecules are transferred to another protein, myoglobin or Mb for short, which actually transports the oxygen through the muscle tissue for use.”
“Still with me?” He asked.
“Yeah.” I replied again.
"Well, HbMb is a lot like a synthetic Lactated Ringer's solution, another isotonic crystalloid, myoglobin and polypeptide builder that also contains rich amounts of various other chems like Iron, B6, folic acid, vitamin B12, and C’s but comes in a dry form.
Its significantly different though, in that it’s, 1) synthetic and 2) compatible with all blood types.
It combines both the synthetic hemoglobin and myoglobin chains necessary to transport large amounts of O2 through the blood system to the necessary organs giving them a jump start of O2 that they’re significantly missing prior to administering it.
At that point he stopped and after a moment I said.
“Ok. So why aren’t we using this stuff outside the Zone? I sounds like it’s an amazing benefit.”
“Well, that where it gets a little sticky.” He replied.
He’d finished inspecting the wounds by then and after reaching around to the pile of med supplies, lifted a small spray can and handed it to me.
“Take this and spray the wounds lightly, then apply the balm and you can redress them.”
Then he returned his attention to the IV box.
I looked at the can and tube he’d handed me and after I read the labels twice I said.
“You know this is antiperspirant and lip balm right?”
He looked back at me, then smiled and said.
“Yeah. Oddly enough, the antiperspirant contains aluminum chloride that in addition to shrinking sweat glands, will constrict blood vessels and clot a nick and the ChapStick, I prefer Vaseline but I don’t have any right now, works like a seal. Plus it'll keep the wounds from forming unsightly scabs which I’m sure the lady will thank you for later.
While he was saying this he’d reached again into the IV box and retrieved another IV bag only this tome before hanging it, he also removed the small box I’d seen earlier and after extracting several tablets from it, opened the short tube on the top of the IV bag, inserted all of the tablets then after squeezing the bag to clear the air in it, closed the top again and began shaking the bag.
Then, to my amazement, after he shook it a couple times the clear fluid inside began to turn umber red.
“So what’s, sticky mean?” I asked to remind him he’d left my hanging there.
He turned again to look directly at me and after a couple seconds contemplation, he said.
“I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it and it isn’t available outside the Zone because it’s new and it’s Zone produced.”
“You have to dilute so you add it to an IV sac of a purified or distilled, saline water and you get field grade, synthetic HbMb blood.
It isn’t real and it won’t last much more than a couple hours at most but it transports well without cool storage and bonds well enough over the short term with all blood types that it works to keep you alive till you can get real blood.”
All this time he’d been preparing the IV and was now ready it administer the needle.
“You gonna have any issues with this?” He asked, poised to insert it.
“Why would I argue with a triage, med professional.” I replied, resigning myself to accept the possible dangers she might face over the immediate treatment she needed desperately and was getting.
He inserted the needle just as deftly as he had the other IV and then adjusted the valve to drip lightly.
| 17:37:19 22 August 2018
On forum: 02/20/2010
Rendering 3D Graphics|
I acquired a 3D software package and have been learning how to create 3D graphics.
Some of my early creations are on my website for those interested in seeing them.
My ultimate goal is to create a graphic novel from the artwork.
To do this though, I have to learn how to render 3D Props. Things like guns, knives, backpacks, etc.
A lot of the standard S.T.A.L.K.E.R. gear isn't available in 3D rendering yet so in addition to learning how to create the 3D characters, I'm simultaneously learning how to render new 3D items in a 2nd software package.
It's amazing technology and in my opinion, it's fantastically interesting.
| 17:51:16 17 February 2019
On forum: 02/20/2010
Whisper is coming along but on hold at the moment while I have been learning a new trick in entertainment.
I've been developing my abilities in 3D rendering with the notion of creating a "Bridger", graphic novel rather than a book.
Of late I've been working more on my Star Trek interests in this direction than on Bridger but it all works toward the same end.
As of this date, I have started a rough draft of a ST novel that with the help of a fellow graphics art colleague, I hope to have online soon.
The ST graphic Novel (GN) will feature the Garrett story on my website.
Shortly after I have that online and running I intend to start developing the graphics for Bridger and Alina.
Suggestions and comments are of course welcome and you can enter them through this site or directly through the blog on my authors site.
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