8/2 4:38pm

8/2 4:38pm

Turns out James is a doctor. He has medical training and everything. He is, however, almost completely useless.

By the time I returned to the other two, Dave was holding his Leatherman multitool, pliers out, toward James. James’ face had turned broiling green. “You’ve got to be off your bleeding rocker! I have no training whatsoever to do that!”

Dave, whose eyes were closed, spoke with steel in his voice. “Goddamnit. You said you were a doctor. Pull the arrow!”

“I was studying to be a rehabilitative podiatrist! Not some godforsaken trauma medic! I can’t stand the sight of blood!”

The old vet threw the pliers at him, then cracked open one eye. “You. Are a doctor. Pull the arrow.”

James picked up the pliers, gulped, and carefully went to work.

By the time it was done, we had used the rest of the flask of hard liquor Dave had been saving, and James was ready to retch.

Thank God Dave knew to keep his mouth shut through the whole arrow pulling operation. If he had started screaming, rather than whimpering loudly into a rolled rag, we would have been dead. Even so, a moaner heard the noise and began pounding the door.  The dull ka-thump, ka-thump stretched on underneath Dave's slow, heavy breathing.

We slept the night through up there, and have (very quietly) gathered everything useful from the hotel floor we're on. It’s not much. I returned to the place my opponent had died, room 216. James was standing in there, staring at the corpse. “How long was he here?” James asked. “How long does it take for a sane, normal human to go crazy? How much of this blasted moaning does it take for someone here to lose themselves?”

His eyes, haunted by images of the room and the city, told me he wasn’t just thinking about this man. He was wondering about the condition of someone else, someone much more important to him than a lunatic with a hunting crossbow. Suppose she’s alive. Suppose she’s a crazed animal. What do we do then?

I know my answer. Looks James finally realized he needs to take a hard look at his. This world’s gone medieval. Time we do the same.