"FUCK—FUCK—FUCK IT!" Lloyd still squeals.
"Calm down—it's only iodine," Matt says.
"It's fucking molten lava!"
"It's working, then." Matt applies a new dressing to Lloyd's shoulder and tapes it up. He reaches into the medic kit and takes out a large triangular bandage. He places the sling around Lloyd's neck and supports his arm. "You're done—no charge."
"What about the bullet?"
"Came out the side. You're lucky it turned right instead of left or you'd be lying down next to those two." Matt nods over to Nevada and Rita.
"Whoopee fucking do, aren't I just blessed?" Lloyd looks over at Sophia. "How much longer you gonna be?"
"Why—you got an appointment with someone?" Sophia asks.
"Yeah, he's called Mr Some—Where—Fucking—Else!"
"Well, you'd better tell him you're gonna be late because I'm still working down here." Sophia sticks another suture into Books' face. "So take a seat and cut me some slack."
Lloyd sits down against the container, scowling.
Sophia doesn't look up as she works. She yells out, "Hey, Cutter?"
"Yeah?"
"You, Jim, and the kid start loading that Humvee with anything you think we need to get out of here. We're going as soon as I'm done. Understand?"
"Okay."
Sophia nods over to Matt. "You stay with me. I'm gonna need some help finishing off here."
"Sure thing."
Jim and Jedi head into the container and bring out boxes of provisions and tanks of fuel. They pass the supplies to Cutter in the back of the Humvee.
"Wait a minute," Jedi says, and hops into the front of the Humvee. He searches through the various small compartments and equipment lockers. He finds what he's looking for, a notebook and a pen, then returns to help Jim and Cutter.
Cutter spots the notebook. "Writing a diary, kid?"
Jedi jots down the first set of code numbers he's just input into the remote. "Nah—it's just a habit. You know, helps me free up my mind, then stuff just kind of comes together." He turns and looks out toward the wreck of the Japanese Humvee, then at the position of the container. He writes down more notes. "You should try it sometime."
"I would if I could write me something," Cutter laughs.
"For real?"
"Never had the time. That's what happens when you're always running—a lack of inclination to educate." Cutter opens up and rummages through various compartments in the back of the Humvee.
"It's not so hard, Cutter," Jim says. "I could help you." He passes a box of ammunition to Cutter. "I've helped lots of people who missed their chance at school."
"Appreciated, teacherman."
Jedi looks up at the sun, then over at the digital clock on Jim's collar. The numbers count down: 07.45.39, :07.45.38, :07.45.37. He makes some final notes.
Cutter lifts up one of the long bench seats inside the Humvee. "Hello, what's the go here?" He picks up an orange case. He puts the case on the floor, kneels down, and opens it. "Holy shit!"
Cutter pops his head out of the rear of the Humvee and shouts again, "Holy motherfucking shit!"
Sophia still attends to Books. "Hey, I'm trying to fix things here. Keep it down."
