Read The McClane Apocalypse: Book One for Free Online Page B

done.
    There are two actual stab wounds, one near center mass and one over to the right lower quadrant of her abdomen. They are very slowly leaking blood, which is good. He must’ve sliced or missed a full on stabbing of her at least three other times from what she can tell, but those wounds are also still bleeding. Somehow there is a deep cut near her right shoulder blade, as well. She definitely doesn’t remember that even happening. But it is gushing blood and needs dealt with quickly, too.
    She unscrews the lid of an antiseptic liquid and pours it onto cotton pads, making quick work of cleansing her wounds through gritted teeth. This done, she shakily threads a needle and sets it aside. Then she unscrews the numbing vial and attaches a hypodermic needle with which to administer her own pain blocking shots. Without hesitation and with clear, concise ability she plunges the needle deeply enough to hit tissue that will take the solution. Instantly the medicine takes hold, enabling her to begin stitching. She makes a half-assed attempt at stitching her two stab wounds and gives up on winning any future beauty queen competitions. Her hands are shaking so badly that she has a difficult time of it. She’s a mess. It’s impossible for her to administer any stitches to her shoulder/collar bone area because of the difficult slant. It is near her right shoulder area and as she is right-handed, there is just no way that she can stitch it with her left hand. Reagan globs the clotting powder onto all of her lacerations, including over the fresh stitching. She finishes with applying bandaging as best as she can.
    Her hand is still covered in blood even after using the cleansing antiseptic, so she wipes it again. But then she notices that there are small incisions on her palm. Knowing that she’s right-handed, Reagan deduces that her hand is cut from her own knife which she’d used to stab her victim. It is likely self-inflicted from slipping in her grasp or sliding forward with the force of the stab. Working fast, she sprinkles on more clotting powder, presses on a gauze pad and wraps tape all around her entire hand so the bandaging doesn’t fall off.
    Satisfied with her work, Reagan takes the flashlight to search out her backpack. Giant Pupils had kicked it earlier and now she has actual need of the items inside. She spies it near a front row desk on the floor and retrieves it. She unzips it and pulls out a clean, long-sleeved, black t-shirt which she’d packed and had no intention at the time of ever needing. She’ll be cold, but she can turn on the heat in Dr. Krue’s car once she gets to it. She pulls it on overhead, careful not to disturb her newly applied bandages. She can see where some of the white pads are already spotting with red. Reaching into her backpack again, she pulls out three of the feminine napkins she had packed. She presses them to her abdomen under her shirt and tapes them down to further absorb the bleeding. Next she grabs clean underwear and gray sweatpants and pulls those on. Using the round ring, she hooks Dr. Krue’s car keys on her thumb and then re-zips the pack. Gun back in hand, Reagan opens a bottle of antibiotics and the pain medicine. She opens her one solitary bottle of water, wincing at the pain in her sliced hand as she does so and swigs enough to take the pills. The numbing shots have not yet worn off in her abdomen, but she knows they aren’t meant to last for more than an hour or so. Next, she puts all of the remaining medical supplies, pills and water back into the bag. She glances at her watch and sees that it’s 10:30 already. They should have left three and a half hours ago. Time is rapidly ticking along while the world is going to hell.
    Looking out the window for the first time since coming into this nightmarish scene, Reagan can see multiple buildings are on fire while violent bedlam is occurring everywhere. The sun has set completely, and she’ll need the flashlight just to