Get Out of Denver (Denver Burning Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

shooting up the Capitol, and fighter jets launching. This city isn’t safe anymore.”
    “But this neighborhood should be okay. Nobody has any reason to come here except for those of us that live here.” Carrie looked to McLean for some comfort.
    “For the time being,” he said, shrugging and refusing to elaborate.
    “Hold still! I got two little pieces of metal out of here. There might be more, but if I dig any deeper I’ll probably reopen the bleeding. I’m going to bandage it up and you’ll have to get it looked at by a doctor later.”
    “Thanks. You’re quite a surgeon yourself.”
    “Two years of nursing school, thank you very much. And I help the physician’s assistant that serves in our rescue mission with basic wound care sometimes. But this is actually the first time I’ve ever treated a gunshot victim.”
    “I’m not a gunshot victim. I got dinged by some shrapnel, that’s all,” McLean snorted. “Those might be fragments of my truck, actually,” he added, peering at the metal bits Carrie had dropped into the bloody water bowl on the table.
    “Well, here you go,” she said, smearing what felt like half a tube of antibiotic ointment on the wound and plastering his shoulder with gauze and medical tape. “I’ll leave you some freedom of movement with this tape, but try not to rotate your shoulder too much, it might start bleeding again. What hospital or clinic do you go to?”
    “Haven’t been to one in ten years, and I certainly won’t be starting today,” McLean replied.
    “That’s a little risky,” Carrie said. “Don’t you think--”
    “Not nearly as risky as going to one of those places right now,” McLean said. “It’ll be utter chaos at every medical facility in Denver right now. And anyway, we have some work to do. I think we should fix a few things up around here to make this place more… secure for you.” He had almost said ‘defensible’, but didn’t think Carrie needed to consider that possibility just yet. One could always hope that the violence remained downtown and didn’t spill into the residential areas. But he wasn’t going to bet Carrie’s life on it.
    McLean spent the next few hours preparing Carrie to shelter in place. He scrounged some supplies for her from a gas station nearby that was still conducting cash transactions. He shut off the gas and electric lines to the apartment, got what water he could from the pipes, which were already losing pressure, and covered the windows with thick blankets that would insulate the interior and prevent candlelight from acting as a beacon to anyone who might pass by.
    He also reinforced the front door with a makeshift cross bar made from a coat rack and two L-shaped pieces of a disassembled nightstand. He had to borrow some tools from the neighbor downstairs, the only other guy that was home in the six-plex. Carrie and her roommate were apparently more into cooking and art than woodworking and didn’t have so much as a screwdriver. The guy downstairs was pretty skeptical when McLean told him what he wanted the tools for, but McLean noticed him pulling his bike inside later and reattaching a ‘Beware of Dog’ sign that had fallen in the grass by his patio fence.
    The news of the extent of the day’s attacks would soon spread by word of mouth, McLean knew, along with a lot of inaccuracies and rumors. But he didn’t say more than necessary to the neighbor or to the gas station attendant. People would soon be desperate for news, advice, and conversation, but he wanted to fly as low under the radar as he could for as long as he could. There was no upside to being known as the knowledgeable guy, not at the moment anyway.
    “Thanks again for all this,” Carrie said as McLean came back from returning the tools. “It was really sweet of you to stay and help.”
    “I couldn’t turn my back on you,” was all McLean could think to say. ‘Sweet’ wasn’t the word he’d have used. They were way beyond sweet now; on