“That feels good,” Mr. Dupuis said as he raised the mask to cover his nose and mouth again.
“I don’t want to put too much pressure on your scalp in case it starts bleeding again.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m hoping the bunker has a shower.”
“Is that where we’re going?”
“Yeah.” He had no doubt he’d find it. “Once your stomach is more settled, I’ll give you some antibiotics.”
“You have antibiotics?”
“I was at a drugstore earlier this afternoon, and the pharmacist gave me a bunch of meds.”
“I’m glad I was found by you.”
“How does your head feel?”
“Awful.”
“I want to check the bugout bag for some ibuprofen.” He’d been so busy running from one place to another he hadn’t had the opportunity to examine what it held as yet.
“You have a bugout bag?”