One Second After [32]
Still silence. John looked at the others lined up. Several turned and fled. One woman was shaking her head.
"Is this how you treat strangers in this redneck town?" she snapped. "I'll be damned if I ever stop here again."
She stormed out.
He recognized one of the men. Pat Burgess, a Baptist minister, part of his Civil War Roundtable club. Pat nodded.
"Good work, John. Sorry, but with my heart, I'd most likely pitched a coronary if I had taken him on."
It snapped John out of the momentary haze, the shock, back to the reality of where they were and what had to be done, for that matter what he was here to do.
"Pat, can you see to him? Get a belt or something and tie his hands first. Maybe somebody can look at his face and see if I cut his eye."
"You did, you goddamn bastard. I can't see! My lawyer's going to rip you an extra asshole!"
The man started to scream again and John tapped him with his shoe. He cringed, falling silent.
John leaned over.
"Listen to me. You threatened these women. One more word and I will cut your eyes out," John said, and the man fell back to crying, clutching his face, blood leaking out between his fingers.
John looked back at Liz, then stepped around behind the counter.
"Liz, can we talk for a moment?"
"Sure, John."
He motioned to the back corner of the pharmacy area and the two went into the locked area and half-closed the door.
"Thank God you came in, John," Liz whispered hoarsely. "I've had three like that already. We bluffed the other two out, but that guy was crazy. Most likely addicted. Doesn't travel with any in case he ever gets stopped, and his supply is at home."
"Look, Liz, I need a favor."
Liz fell silent, the look of gratitude disappearing.
"I think we got a bad situation," Liz said quietly. "Don't we?"
"I won't lie to you. I think we do."
She looked back towards the counter, the line of customers, more coming in and queuing up.
"I've been here all night," she said wearily. "I live in Asheville, nothing was moving, I was hoping Jim might come to get me, but he hasn't shown ..."
Her voice trailed off.
"How long before the electric comes back on?" "I don't know." "How long?"
"A month, maybe a year or more." "My God," Liz sighed.
"Exactly, and you know what I am asking for."
"John, I have exactly forty vials in stock. There's one other kid in this town with the same thing your girl's got. Over a hundred adult diabetics with varying degrees of insulin needs.
"I've had four folks down here this morning already asking for extras. I can't give them out, John. I'm responsible to everyone here, not just Jen...." She hesitated. "Not just you, John."
"Liz, we're talking about my daughter, my little girl," and his voice began to choke.
She pointed towards the neatly arrayed cabinets with medications.
"John, I've got hundreds of people I'm responsible for, and if what you said is true a lot of them will die, some in a matter of days. We just don't keep that much inventory in stock anymore. None of the pharmacies do; we rely on daily shipments."
"There won't be daily shipments for quite a while, Liz."
"Then my patients with pancreatic enzyme disorder? They don't take their pills daily they die. If what you told me is true, Mrs. Sterling will be dead within a week...." Liz's voice trailed off and she stifled back a sob.
She took a deep breath and looked back up at him.
"Severe hypertensions, arrythmias, we got five people on antirejection drugs for transplants. Jesus Christ, John, what do you want me to do?"
He hated himself for doing it, but now started he couldn't stop.
"I lost Mary already, Liz. Please, dear God, not Jennifer, too. Not that."
He lowered his head, tears clouding his eyes. He wiped them away, struggling for control.
He looked back into Liz's eyes, shamed ... and yet, if need be, determined.
Liz