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thought."
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The Lonely War
by Alan Chin
The fear in Clifford's voice brought Andrew close enough to
peer into his face, which was now devoid of color. "What's
wrong?"
"W-w-we're too late."
Andrew inspected the wound and fought off the urge to
vomit.
"Do your best, Cliff."
Clifford removed the scalpel from the hot water and
meticulously carved away the putrid and rotting flesh, probing
deep to insure he removed it all. Andrew wiped the sweat
from Clifford's forehead with the towel. Minutes ticked by. He
was amazed at how much flesh was sliced away. The
procedure seemed to take hours, and by the time Clifford
glanced up again, the towel in Andrew's hands was entirely
damp and smeared with makeup.
Clifford dropped the knife into the water, then
painstakingly washed the wound. Once it was clean, he
sprinkled sulfa powder over the entire area and rebandaged
the leg.
"Cliff, are you Tottori's lover?"
"W-w-when I first came here, he couldn't keep his hands
off me. M-m-my blond hair and white skin drove him crazy.
B-b-b-but when I became a woman, he lost interest. Y-y-you
see, he's already got a wife, and he doesn't want another."
"He's married? How can he be that way with me if he likes
women?"
"H-h-he pledged to his wife that he would never take
another woman. B-b-b-believe me, he keeps his promises. H-
h-he told me that a samurai gives his word once, and lives or
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The Lonely War
by Alan Chin
dies according to his word. Y-y-you understand? H-h-he's like
Master Jung-Wei."
Clifford finished wrapping the leg and tied the bandage.
"Th-th-that leaves only two options go without or do it with
boys. H-h-he wouldn't dare corrupt a Japanese soldier, so
that leaves the prisoners. I-I-I'm the only prisoner he's been
with, but I knew he'd go for you because you have Asian
beauty. H-h-he's a tender lover, which seems strange for
someone so masculine."
Andrew felt heat flushing his face. Embarrassment
prevented him from speaking, but he remembered the
softness of Tottori's lips and those sensual caresses. Yes, he
thought, very strange.
"N-n-now pay attention, because you may have to do
this." He took the hypodermic and filled it with medicine. He
pointed the needle up and thumbed the plunger to release
any air bubbles then held Mitchell's arm and found a vein. "I-
i-it's got to be intravenous. Stick the needle right into the
vein, and pull some blood into the syringe, see? That way you
know you hit the vein. Then slowly push in the antitoxin."
He removed the needle and pressed a wad of cotton over
the puncture hole.
"H-h-he needs an injection every six hours until the serum
is all gone. Th-th-that should take two days. W-w-we clean
the wound, reapply sulfa, and change the bandage every
day." He placed the instruments, bandages, and towels into
the haversack. "H-h-he'll probably have a violent reaction
vomiting, fever, God knows what else. S-s-stay with him until
we can move him."
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The Lonely War
by Alan Chin
"Will he be okay?"
Clifford's face took on an aura of doubt. He said, "W-w-
we'll know in three days." Andrew's eyes grew large, so he
quickly added, "L-l-look, baby, we've done all we can. I-I-I
made the first dose a heavy one. I-I-I think he'll make it, but
I'm not sure. Y-y-you stay with him until he wakes. I-I-I'll
return before dawn to help move him."
Andrew hugged him. "I love you."
"I-I-I know, baby. I love you, too."
* * * *
An hour before sunrise, Mitchell woke from a terrible
nightmare and leaned over the bed to vomit. Andrew held his
head with one hand and a pail in the other. He handed him a
water bottle, and he swished his mouth clean and spat into
the bucket.
"How do you feel?"
"Like the room is spinning and I'm going to be sick again.
My leg?"
"We treated it with medication. We're going to save it."
Mitchell lay on the pillow, visibly struggling to understand
this new turn of events. Andrew explained about the
treatment and what had to be done.
"But, where did you get the medicine?"
"In Asia, there's a black market for everything, even in this
place. It's a way of life. You just have to know who to
approach and what to offer." Andrew took a cloth and wiped
the beads of sweat from Mitchell's forehead. He told him it
was not over yet, that he was still in danger. Now it was up to
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The Lonely War
by Alan Chin
him to fight with all his will. He adjusted the pillows so
Mitchell was propped up. He took an English cigarette from
his pocket, one he had taken from Tottori, lit it and placed it
between the officer's lips.
"We need to move you out of here. If the doctors see you,
they'll know we have the medicine, and they'll take it. We'll
hide you in Hut 29. Clifford will tell them you died in the night [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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