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Tell those on-coming sirens we need medic assistance immediately!"Rhys grabbed the kit and ran back to Michael. He started cutting away clothing to get at his wounds."Jeezus!" he exclaimed, seeing the thick coating of blood and mud all over his face, neck, hands, and the obscenely thick mat of blood plastering his hair down on his head. His clothing reeked of blood and urine. No matter! He forced his eyes to focus on the wounds, three of them visible to his trained eye.Shoulder wound, no bone visible, exit looks clean. Bleeding, but no arterial spurting.He sliced Michael's shirt open and peeled it away, rolling Michael gently to examine the exit wound where a bullet had torn through his side. More dark venous blood; we've gotta get a pad tight here, try to restrain the flow. Looks more like a glancing hit just above the lowest rib. Nicked a lung? Hope not.Just as quickly he sliced through Michael's trouser leg, down to the cuff, and laid the two halves outward to expose the entire. Jordan sits in the middle row. The lecture still interests him, but his eyes lose focus every once in a while as he switches positions. He’s being a good girl.One of the other students asks whether the air-conditioning is ever going to be repaired. I can only offer her a shrug and a commiserative smile. The superintendent has promised to take care of it but has idled by the overgrown orchard all day. Perhaps, if we’re lucky, the heat will bring thunder in its wake.If hotness makes me horny, a crackling storm is another story altogether. I’ve always been receptive to nature. Wild streams, skies full of lightning and high ocean waves make me feel small, yet strangely significant. They dominate my body and soul. Last year, my students must’ve thought me crazy when I abandoned them to run into the downpour. Then again, I am deliciously mad by most standards.The afternoon turns into an alleviating evening, but Jordan doesn’t come. At least not to me. I eat without looking at him and.
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