If life had thaught anything to Zax, it was to not let events out of his purview bother him too much. He couldn’t control everything, but he could control how it affected him. And he had gotten pretty good at it. He didn’t feel jealous when he noticed someone with an interesting mutation, or forlorn when his last friend had left for a better future. Even when his first love had left, he wasn’t angry or bitter that she tried to leave without even a message. It felt bad, but he didn’t allow himself to wallow in it; lest he started down a slippery slope he knew he wouldn’t get out of.
It helped him move forward in life.
But because of that, he had no idea on how to handle the onslaught of emotions filling his mind. He was overwhelmed. His heart beat drowning every sound. The heat coming off his every pore. His own heavy breathing. His light-headedness. His muscles twitching and spasming in reaction to his struggle to control himself. He was lost in a roaring sea of unfamiliar sensations. His nanites picked up on his distress and helped in the only way they could: analysing and sorting information. On one hand, sorting the biological information live in place of the brain, on the other hand, memories.
Softly, slowly, random memories with happier, or at least more serene associations were pulled at the front of his mind. Playing with his friends as a child. Sex. A tasty new solution of meal. Studying a new type of mutation. Quinn’s smile-
Quinn.
Her memories felt good and bad at the same time, but she had a lot of tricks for self-control. It was just a fleeting thought, barely conscious, but it gave his nanites a direction to follow. They pushed that train of thought further, reminding him all her advices and methods. Most had nothing to do with the situation; ways to handle rowdy students, dietetic advices, mind games… but one stood out.
Zax had never been good at meditating, but the breathing exercises did help him relax somewhat. He latched on to the idea like a drowning man to a raft.
Breathe in one, two, three seconds.
Hold one, two, three seconds.
Breathe out one, two, three seconds.
Hold one, two, three seconds.
Again
His breath looked and felt more like irregular panting.
Again.
That’s what he forced his attention on.
Again.
One-two-three.
It took a lot less cycles than expected, but he managed to stabilise his breathing and his turmoil.
He hadn’t realised he had closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he was surprised at how little time had passed. Definitely less than a minute since he stepped inside, even if it had felt like an eternity. He quickly glanced around again, forcing his respiration to stay steady, still counting in his head. Then he went back to the trolleys, giving orders in a fast but clear voice as he moved.
“Cat, we saw emergency showers on the way, they should still be working. Grab her and bring her there. Her bones shouldn’t be mutated lighter, don’t hold back too much. Get her under cold water to snap her out of it. Then don’t touch her. If she wants to wash herself, let her. If she wants to be left alone, don’t. Turn around, but don’t leave her alone in a room. Don’t touch her unless she asks and initiates contact.”
By then he was back in the room with loaded arms. “Use that to help with her wounds.” He shoved a pack of haemostatics in the mutant’s arms, “Then cover her with that.” A medical cover followed. “Let her do it herself if she can, only touch her if it’s an emergency. When you’re done, come back. Let her set the pace. If she doesn’t want to come in, wait just outside and let us know.”
We may have to rush later, but no point in pressing now.
“Dog, use that and get him away. Outside but still within sight. He’ll bother us here.” Zax gave him Enforcer-grade strong handcuffs. Overkill for someone without enhanced strength, but he hadn’t found more standard ones. Didn’t look long either. Of course, the enforcers had focused their load on medical supplies, it was already strange that they put a single pair of manacles with the rest, let alone the three he found. “Try not to break any bones, we still need to leave ASAP. Then come back and help me stabilise the others.”
Fortunately, nobody contested his commands; they were relieved to not have to flounder around on their own. By the end of his instructions, Zax had already put his remaining load at his feet and used the medical scanner for a basic diagnostic of the all the victims. Now was the tricky part: to stabilise them. Those that still could.
[Others (7) – sort by / Priority
(1 – Tearful): Dangerously Injured (blood loss, bruises, fractures, internal damage, lacerations)/Distressed. Risk of activation: low.
(2 – Ram): Heavily injured (bruises, concussion, fractures, lacerations)/Unconscious (comatose). Risk of activation: Very low.
(3 – Dormouse): Heavily injured (bruises, fractures, inner bleeding, lacerations, punctured lung, slow metabolism)/Unconscious (comatose(?), hibernation). Risk of activation: Very low.
(4 - Canary) (outdated): Injured (bruises, lacerations, stress moulting)/Frenzy (panic, confusion). Risk of activation: Unknown.
(5 - Molester) (outdated): Healthy (bruises, light lacerations)/Distressed (confusion, fear, lust). Risk of activation: Unknown.
(6): Deceased.
(6 – Dog) (outdated): Healthy/Distressed. Risk of activation: Unknown.
(7 – Cat) (outdated): Healthy/Distressed (confusion, rage, stress). Risk of activation: Low.]
Zax started with Tearful. Needs to set bones and immobilisation for fractures, bandages for the bleeding, transfusion for the blood loss. Problem was the internal damages; the basic process is to put the victim in a good position and wait for emergency services. Talk to him to keep him awake.
Zax held back a swear word when he remembered he was the emergency services.
“Do fall asleep just yet, we are not safe yet.” Zax started making him talk, still planning his next move. He could at least keep him awake. “What’s your name?”
He conversed with as casual a voice as he could, not showing any sign of good or bad news. He had to more precisely diagnose the inner damages to see how and how much the victim could be moved. That was the priority, everything else could worsen it. He fiddled with the medi-scan in front of his patient’s torso and abdomen, half-listening to him.
Many bruises in the back but no spinal damage. Lungs, several perforations. By displaced bones. Digestive tract, battered but good enough. The thick leather on his back, the multi-layer of fat all over his body and his sheer size had probably saved him from a way worse fate.
His mutations seem focused on tanking damages, but why is his face only bruised? The rest of his body also had cuts and broken bones.
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He noted the strange way the wounds were laid out but banished the irrelevant thought away. With the most accurate diagnostic he could have in a short time, he went to see what the trolleys had to help with. Inner damages were always tricky to deal with and he only had experience with simulations.
“Don’t leave!” Tearful gurgled when Zax turned his back to him.
“Don’t worry, I’m just behind the door. I just need to take some supplies.”
Zax had to hand it to the enforcers, they were thorough even with the little time they had to prepare. He found what he needed and took more than a sufficient amount, just in case.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Dog burying his pleading prisoner’s limbs under huge pieces of rubbles, spread eagle. It was a good idea, without leverage even an advanced mutant would have a hard time moving, and even more so if they wanted to avoid being spotted. As long as the rubble didn’t crush the limbs.
The growl on Dog’s face and the way his clawed feet pushed more than necessary to keep the unresisting body pinned made Zax think that this was not his main reason, but he didn’t comment on it. He just reminded him of their priorities, and that they had a long path to go before getting back to the dot.
When he was back and tried to use them, he faced another problem: Glob – that was his first patient’s name – was way too heavy for him to move safely. He simply didn’t have the strength and leverage. The mutation that saved him was now turning against him.
Zax couldn’t treat the inner damage, nor access some of the wounds. He tried setting the bones of the limbs he could safely move, but he couldn’t even do that. They were too wide or slippery for his hands.
He had no other choice than to move to his second patient. Sleeper. He was luckier in a way, he had many bruises and a few broken bones, but only one dangerous wound. It was on his head, but his ram horns and the probably matching thickened skull had saved his brain from most damage, even if the skull and left horn had broken in the process.
Is his neck enhanced in some way too?
He still had a concussion though. It could be treated easily enough in a hospital, but Zax couldn’t do much here. He kept making Glob talk as he continued his work.
“He rammed into everything he could.” Glob lamented. His breathing was still swallow but less forced, so at least the painkillers were effective. Zax pushed him to elaborate. “When everything, flipped around, and we were bounced, against the walls, I grabbed everyone I could, to stay together. I’m pretty though, I wanted to, protect them. Got three people, in my arms. Couldn’t, see who. He was, among them. When he, saw something, flying to us, he headbutted it. Even walls. Almost fell, from my arms. Even when, his horn broke, he kept going. Protected us. We don’t even, know each other.” Sobs that had nothing to do with physical pain laced his voice. “Why? Why go that far, for strangers? When my own friend, did this? Why did, that happen?”
Zax couldn’t think of an answer. By then he was done with Ram’s treatment and was ready to move on to Dormouse. He would just have check regularly on the cold-pack fixated on his head wound, at least until the swelling receded.
“In your last moment, when nothing matters anymore, your true nature will be revealed.”
Dog’s voice took them both by surprise.
“I thought it was ‘Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely’?” Zax revealed his thoughts.
“What power? Being the only one who can move?”
“In that case, yes. But you’re right, your quote is more fitting. Now help me, I’m too weak to properly treat him.”
He came back to Glob and instructed the mutant on the right movements. Dog’s hands were not larger than his, but his claws and pads gave him more grip, and the patients skin was leathery enough in most places that he wouldn’t be easily cut. Without forgetting his superhuman strength, of course. It was slower than he would have wanted, but he kept monitoring their patient’s insides to ensure it went as well as possible.
While he was conducting, he didn’t forget to include Glob in the conversation, to keep him talking and keep his mind busy. Somehow, they had come back to the previous topic:
“Power doesn’t actually corrupt; it reveals who you are. Deep down. Who you always were.” Dog made a comment that smelled like personal experience as he immobilised a leg wider than his head.
“Well, yes, that’s what the quote means. The more influence you have, the more your moral compass diminishes. Cough. Less inhibitions and all that.” Glob followed.
He was talking more easily now that his ribs were not squatting in his lungs. The blood was still not fully drained, but Zax was working the pump they had connected to his torso. Dog had also managed to put him in a more comfortable position.
“I think it’s more about being held accountable for your actions. As long as there is someone who can stop you when you’re going too far, your own falling morals are not as much of a problem.” He continued.
“But then it gives power to that someone, so they become the corrupted one, and so on. Plus, how do you decide where is ‘too far’?” Zax added his two bits, slowly removing the pipe and spraying liquid band-aid to the incision they had made. “Done with the drainage.”
“I’m done too.” Dog called, checking that the two standard splints they had put together to encompass the wide leg would hold.
He was already impressed by Zax’s confidence... no, his steadfastness when they took care of the inner damages – he knew it was a first for all of them – but he was awed at how well he explained how to fix the bones too. The mutant knew for a fact that he would do more harm than good if he tried to fix someone, but it had almost been easy this time.
“How do you feel?” Zax asked their patient. There didn’t seem to be more to be done, but it was always good to ask.
Glob tried to take a long breath, but Zax stopped him:
“Don’t breathe too deep. We set your bones and sealed your lung, but they are still broken and punctured. Don’t strain them or they could reopen.”
“Pain everywhere, but if I don’t breathe too hard, it’s bearable. I still feel dizzy and exhausted. Can I sleep now?”
“Denied.” Zax was adamant. “The medicine we gave you will help with the effect of blood loss, but it’s not a miracle solution. No sleeping until we got you to a real medic.”
Even as he stated that, Zax was closing in on his next patient, the one he had dubbed Dormouse. Her wounds were a lot worse than the other’s, including Glob.
“For what it’s worth, your actions definitely saved the two of them.” Zax followed. “By the way, Dog, go check on the other guy please. I think he has a high healing factor. He could try to hurt himself on purpose to get free.”
Dog wouldn’t be able to tell when it had started, but deep down he trusted this human’s judgement. He went out without a word or a glance back.
The last patient wasn’t among those Glob had shielded with his body, so she had taken the full brunt of what hit them. Mostly the walls, roof and floor apparently. She had more broken bones than intact ones and multiple damaged organs. The only reason she was so low in the priority list was the same that saved her from sharing (6)’s fate: her mutation.
Zax wasn’t sure it actually followed a dormouse template, but it was definitely something that hibernated, and the ordeal had triggered that biological mechanism. The extreme slowing of her metabolism had saved her life, and probably her mind too; preventing the effects for blood loss, pain and counter-productive natural reflexes.
Her body still had a human anatomy, so Zax could stabilise the inner damages, set the bones and fix the splints relatively easily by himself. He still had Dog scan her head and vitals continuously when he came back, to not be taken by surprise.
“I already set the parameters, just keep pointing at the head and torso, one after another. It’ll beep if something changes.”
The most pressing worry was her brain, as the slowing of her metabolism also made it impossible to monitor any cerebral activity. If she was fine, she should wake up when her body was warm enough, for long enough, and either fed or hungry enough; but if not, it was best to not try to wake her up just yet. He wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of complications even with a better equipment.
“How did you know?” Dog asked once he got the hang of it.
“Hm?”
“About the healing factor. That… thing was tearing his own arms apart when I arrived. I had to stab a rebar between his arm bones to stop him.”
Zax froze for a second at the casual statement, but he answered naturally:
“He is the only one with a reptilian mutation. I saw scales before you put him away. And that heap in the corner looks like moulted skin, so probably his.” He nodded towards it. “And he was way too unhurt for someone that went through the same thing as the others. Even Ram, here, had more than a few bruises. Even discounting the major head wound. And with how hot and damp the air was when we got in, well, I thought there was a good chance that his mutation stress-forced a moult. Increase the metabolism and so on. Which also helped him heal. Which usually mean a basic healing factor. Not unusual among reptilian types.”
“I’ve known him for years and I never noticed.” Glob noted sleepily.
“You rarely saw him get hurt, I guess.”
“No…”
While the worked, he had Dog check on Ram’s head and remove the cold pack when needed, regularly check one everyone’s vitals, check on the prisoner, and prepare the trolleys in stretchers. They were missing one, but Zax could improvise a third when he was done. Lastly he asked Dog to push the filth on the ground to the side to let them move more easily. He hesitated and made a lot of disgusted noises, but with the most unfortunate victim’s shirt he managed to do a good job. It didn’t sit well with him, so Zax let his rest until he was done.
Among all that, Glob was nothing left to say, so Zax had him count per 7 aloud. The drawling voice was strangely smoothing, an ambient noise to chase the silence away and the tension with it. Dog and Zax made sure to keep him going if he seemed about to stop and sleep. Dog had fun saying random numbers to confuse him too.
Fixing Dormouse took longer because of the sheer amount of healing required, and because she was too small for several people to take care of her at the same time, but Zax was finally done.
Now to find Cat and Canary, and move on.