“Shh,” she said, needing him to conserve his energy. “It’s okay.” She stayed calm because if she didn’t attempt to do this, he would die. And if he died while she tried, at least she had tried. With her hand still on his forehead, she closed her eyes and whispered a quick prayer.

Tadeas handed her a fresh pair of gloves, then rushed out of the room. She knew he’d gone outside to start the generator.

“You know, Ozzy, most people get on this table to deliver a baby. You’re not going to surprise me, are you?”

He smiled, but before he could reply, his eyes rolled back in his head.

Tadeas returned and washed his hands. As soon as he reached the table, Cynthia said, “I need light.” He adjusted the overhead light until she nodded her approval. Humming her favorite praise song under her breath, she began repairing the artery.

“Doc’s an actual doctor,” one of the men said. “He’s like a mouth surgeon.”

“Oral surgeon,” the soldier with the curly black hair and close-cropped beard corrected. He smiled with gleaming white teeth.

“We have a surgeon who comes through here monthly to do scheduled C-sections and tonsillectomies and what have you,” Cynthia said. “He usually stays three days then leaves. Anyone else who isn’t an actual emergency, we transport out of here.” Doing her best imitation of a surgeon’s knot, she snipped the thread and looked at the two men on the floor. “How’s it going, Grizzly?”

One of the men against the wall snorted, and the man on the floor looked up from taping the tube to his friend’s chest. “Was that meant for me, Doctor?”

Feeling a flush crawl across her cheeks when she realized what she’d said out loud, she looked back at Ozzy’s artery, trying to decide if she had the courage to release the clamp. “Your beard makes you look like a mountain man. Grizzly Adams was my first thought.”

He tossed the tools he’d used into a nearby basin with a little more force than necessary. “I see. It also makes my face unrecognizable to most facial detection software. My name is Captain Norton.” He gestured toward his friend. “Where do you want him?”

She released the clamp and watched as the sutures held. Silently, she thanked God for His guidance. “Tadeas will get a bed ready for him. I want to check him out first.” She dressed the thigh in a clean bandage, wishing she had blood to give him. “I saw letters on Ozzy’s boots. Is that blood type?”

“Yes,” Captain Norton confirmed.

“Are any of you also O neg?”

A man with light-brown hair and beard nodded and stepped away from the wall. “I am. Gerald McBride, ma’am. What do you need?”