1We Are The Hollow Men
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
-Stanza 13, lines 72-76
"You worked as a medic in the Cloverfield incident, correct?"
The man nods. His jaw clenches slightly – like the girl, he doesn't seem comfortable remembering it.
"And you were in charge of dealing with bites?"
Medics, as a general rule, are fairly unflappable when it comes to diseases. Nonetheless, he doesn't look as if it was an experience he's likely to forget. He nods again.
"Tell me about the bites. Tell me about the medical centre you were part of. How hard was it to deal with?"
The man thinks for a bit, and then starts to reply slowly.
"I've been…
…I've been a military medic for quite a while, so I know how hard it is to work when war is striking on every front. When everywhere around you, all you see is death, and the cost of it.
But Cloverfield…the Cloverfield incident was new. Unbelievably new. I just…
I was the one the girl told about the bites.
(the official hides an ironic smile)
I've seen people bleed from the ears and nose. I've dealt with that. People dealing from every bodily orifice is just…it was…it was like their blood was being forced out in any way it could and…
(the medic looks faintly sick here)
Sometimes there's nothing you can do. God, the number of times I just wanted to do something to stop…
Euthanize?
I'd never even really considered euthanasia before. Or, at least, not in that kind of sense. Even with the worst wounds I've seen, it's never occurred to me that…
They were going to die anyway. Expand and explode. It was just…
Just?
The way they would scream. And it wouldn't just be blood coming out of their eyes – when they realized what was happening, they'd scream and cry. I know that if they'd had time, they'd probably beg for something, anything to stop…to stop the way…
I have nightmares. Nightmares were I find myself expanding. And I feel the pain…but in a not-pain sort of way. A sympathetic pain almost, and it's that which wakes me. Just as I get too big…
How many bites did you get?
Too many. We ended up setting up four or five bite tents.
You wore hazmat suits. Why?
We didn't know exactly what the residue would do if it got into your blood system somehow. We decided it would be better not to take the risk and to cover up everything.
But the girl who told you about the bites?
She was covered in blood and poison. We washed it all off, pumped her stomach, got any trace of it we could out of her. Nothing bad happened, but we kept her under close surveillance, in case…in case she started to explode.
Did she?
(he knows the answer, but he wants to see the reaction)
No. She was lucky. But she was completely hysterical for the rest of the incident. I don't think I ever actually saw her not crying.
Was there any action? Did anything manage to get in?
If it did, I never saw it. But…I couldn't relax. I couldn't feel safe. Not when the smell of dust and destruction was still in my nose. Not when I could remember seeing the Clover, the nightmare thing the…the…
It's burned in my memory. The Statue of Liberty – the Brooklyn Bridge – everything just falling and falling…
All I've ever wanted is to help people. But that day…
It was as though the world fell apart around my ears.
That's all the official really needed to know – he was only there to find out how dangerous the camps had been. Knowing that it had been at least relatively safe meant that, if another Cloverfield happened, they could rely upon the military.
The official turned to the mirror and nodded.
The interview is over.
The medic is escorted out, but pauses in the doorway. He turns, as if to say something to the official…but changes his mind and leaves.
The official sighs. These interviews are not going the way he expected. He hadn't been in New York; he knew little to nothing of what it had truly been like. Hearing their stories is…
Harrowing, to put it lightly.
"Send the next one in," he says. The door opens.