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Post by storyteller on Oct 21, 2008 2:24:14 GMT
"He's got a long chuck o' flesh from his knee down gone." Mike replied, looking up at Clint, then looking back. "Damn... didn't I just declare your old truck irreparable? You go through 'em quick, Clint. I've got gauze but no other splint material in here." At the news of a few people dead, Mike looked a little more grim. "Crap... the Ambulance is on its way, might be an hour or so though. Mart boy-" He looked to the AmericaMart employee. "-help Clint here find everything he needs, and quick. Don't bother ringing it up." "Well this time there aint no damned deer sending me into gator infested bayus. I'll see what I can do about your buddy over here." he said to the only man he trusted to work on his trucks beside himself. Turning to the young kid beside Mike he kicked his head back. "Come on boy lets go, I'm gonna need some gauze, cleaner, oxygen peroxide, tampons...for the bleeding ya know, and as much beach towels as you can get. Staples and a staple gun. Bring me lots of the medical supplies, and get one of your buddies inside to bring out loads of beach towels...." he said as he was approaching the entrance to the store, his head bleeding lightly, but his mind working just fine. "Damn it! Come on boy! People are bleedin'."
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Post by FC4 on Oct 22, 2008 19:28:36 GMT
"Name's Mike. I'm a mechanic." Mike replied to the soft inquiry of the victim, continuing his wrapping of the leg wound. "Your leg was sliced up good, and you might've hurt yer head. I'll take care of ya till the pros arrive." He explained slowly, finishing the bandage.
"What's your name?" -------------------- If the car wasn't a burning wreck, it was sandwiched between two other vehicles. If it wasn't either of those, it was near the edge of the crash and sustained little damage.
If the vehicle was the semi, it was salvageable, but likely junk now. Tipped on its side the trailer leaned against several cars, looking ready to crush them and any occupants inside without warning. Groans of strained metal furthered this doomsday message, and a few of the braver folks worked to get victims out before the trailer crushed the cars.
The truck itself was suspended above the ground; the smashed front wedged into the hood of a Ford truck, and the hitch of the semi barely connected to the trailer, holding the back of the truck above the ground. It was slanted nearly forty-five degrees from the front, and the driver's side door was open against the ground.
Three civilians moved towards the truck, one of them bending down to look into the cabin. The driver was smashed up against the large steering wheel, one arm hanging towards the door. The force of the crash had jammed the wheel into his sternum and face, and broke the wheel off, so he lent on the dashboard and window awkwardly.
"Is he alive?"
"I doubt it... looks like he got crushed by the steering whe-ugh!" The man grunted as the body slipped out of the truck and slammed into him, both bodies loudly hitting the inside of the door, and then rolling onto the ground. His two comrades got the body off him quickly, moving the now blood-smeared 'rescuer' away from the truck. The body remained face down... or as face down as possible when propped up by a steering wheel.
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