Fission

Chapter 6

Chapter six

Camila woke up with a jerk. She regretted the jerk soon after due to the pain that echoed through her body. Letting out a small whimper she did her best not to scream from pain. She was alive and on top of a moving cart.

"Morning miss." an older man smiled down from the handle of the cart. Camila's eyes went wide as she glanced around at her surroundings.

"Take it easy. You have been out for days. We almost lost you." The old man chuckled.

"Where are we? Who are you" she asked

"I'm Dale and that ugly fool is Russell." The toothless old man laughed.

"Don't worry, Russell was an old combat medic and he stitched up nice," Dale explained.

"Russell! She is awake." Dale stopped pushing the cart and waved for the other man to come over. Russell was also another elderly man. The two were dressed in old dirty clothes with scraggly beards. The basic hobo outfits you would see on homeless people. Russell walked over and smiled down at Camila.

"May I look at your wound?" He asked for permission before reaching out to lift up her shirt a little. The shirt she wore was not hers. It was two sizes too big. Camila allowed Russel to inspect her side.

"That girl you were with almost killed you. It took a lot of stitching. Also, you are lucky we were close to the hospital. I was able to give you the last of the blood they had on hand." Russell explained.

"Yeah, that hospital had been almost picked clean, but thank God they had the stuff you needed, especially these." Dale handed Camila a bottle of antibiotics. Camila took the bottle in her hands and glanced at the label. Russell handed her a water bottle.

"Tonight we will need to change your bandages. Take two of those pills twice a day, ok?" He explained.

"Thank you." Camila was grateful for the help, but still a bit unsure of the men. She didn't know them and the last time she trusted someone, they almost killed her.

"We can make camp here. Dale, cook or find us something to eat." Russel turned to speak to Dale.

"Why me?" He griped.

"Cause you are the better cook." Russell laughed.

"That is true! You couldn't cook a can of beans!" The two men laugh loudly and Camila couldn't help but crack a small smile. Russell wobbled off towards his grocery cart and began sorting through it as Dale came up beside the long Cart that Camila was on. It looked like one of those carts from a home department store that added on too.

"We are on the way to Houston. Heard there is a shelter there for people. We should be there in a few more days. Hey, I never got your name?" Dale asked.

"Camila."

"Where are you from Camila?" Dale asked.

"Oklahoma,"

"Oh really, what were you doing in Lake Charles?"

"Long story."

"I see, if you don't wanna tell me it is fine. Russell and I Have been living on the streets of Lake Charles for a few years. We had a spot in the homeless shelter but that one hurricane tore it down." Dale spoke as he began to build a fire.

"Who did you end up homeless? I am sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, it's fine. As I said, Russel was a combat medic in Vietnam. I had a problem with drinking and gambling. My wife left me and I lost my house back in the late 1990s. Russell and I met in the homeless shelter and ever since have been friends." The old man sat on the ground and began to put sticks on the fire. Camila felt a little better about the men after hearing their story. She then began to tell Dale her story. Her journey from New York to the current situation she was in. Dale listened intently as she spoke.