“People use antibiotics too often,” she said.  “I try to make a point of using them sparingly in my clinic.”

Yes, but now is not the time to worry about that.

Seriously?  “I think situations like this are the exact right time to use antibiotics.  These people have open wounds, they’re undernourished, dehydrated, stressed, their immune systems are probably shot, their environments are filthy, there’s probably countless other reasons.”

Exactly – people do use antibiotics too much, but that’s because using them too much for lesser things eventually makes them useless, preventing their use for more major injuries as the bacteria evolve to develop immunity. This is absolutely the sort of scenario where it’s justified.

She said something, sounding even more irritated than before.  I think it was a repeat of the question from earlier, about my credentials in medicine.  I wasn’t listening.

Yeeah, time to tune her out.

The paramedics hadn’t come out of the ambulance in several minutes.  A check with my bugs found them lying on the floor of the ambulance.  No blood, as far as I could tell.

…

Well, this doesn’t sound like a positive development.

In terms of protecting these people, I spread my bugs out over every surface, until a potential threat wouldn’t be able to take a step without killing one.  It would serve as advance warning in case any members of Hookwolf’s alliance came through to make trouble.

Nice!

I spread out some flying insects to try to detect airborne threats like Rune.

Most of the flying bugs, however, I was using to sweep over my surroundings, checking buildings and building interiors.  I wanted first aid kits, anything these people could use to clean their wounds.

Just about anything useful would be good to have.

Noting the lack of suture threads, I had my spiders start using their silk to spin something long, thick and tough enough, threading it through the holes of needles for their use.

Oooh, nice.

It would slow down my costume production a touch, but I could deal.

How long does it take these spiders to produce their silk?

“That doesn’t look very sterile,” a woman said, from behind me, as I checked the length of the thread one set of spiders had produced.  It was the pinched, gray-haired woman from just a little bit ago.

The last sentence came as no surprise. I figured it was her before I even read “woman”.

She does have a point, though.

“More than you’d think.  I raised these little ladies myself.  They live in terrariums.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s clean enough to thread through someone’s open wounds.”

True, but it’s probably the best you’ve got, at least if the lack of thread was counting whatever the paramedics have left.

“No,” I replied, feeling a bit irritated, “But in the absence of good alternatives, I’d rather use this and then supply everyone here with antibiotics at some point in the next day or so.  Which they probably need anyways.”

Yeah, there’s a good chance of that.

She headed for a group of people and knelt by one of the wounded who was lying on a sheet.  I could see her posture and expression soften as she talked to them.  So she wasn’t like that with other people.

Ahh. The villain effect, huh?

Whatever.  I’d been prepared to be hated when I committed to villainy.

That’s good, because that’s really something you should be able to see coming.

I gathered all of the supplies I’d brought and sent more bugs out to scout for more.

What I wouldn’t give for a working cell phone, to find out about how Tattletale was doing, even to ask after my dad.  But cell phones had computer chips, and computer chips had silicon.

Called it!

There’s also the issue of the screen, but that’s more survivable for the phone’s functionality, and some phones may have plastic screen covers instead of glass.

Everything that was electronic and more complicated than a toaster was probably fried, with exceptions for some tinker-made stuff.

Hm, interesting. I guess some tinkers use super advanced computer chips that don’t use silicon.

There was no use dwelling on the fact that two people I cared about were gravely hurt.  I couldn’t do anything about it now, and time spent wondering was time I wasn’t protecting and helping these people.

Yeah, probably best to focus for now.

I reached out my hand, and a portion of my swarm passed over it.  Thanks to the fact that many of them were in contact with the bottle, it was easy enough to position my hand and know when to close it.

Oh yeah, I suppose a couple of the things she mentioned earlier were disinfectants. Like the iodine?

The bugs drifted away, and I was left holding the three-inch tall bottle.

My theatrics didn’t seem to impress her.  Her tone was almost disparaging as she said, “Nobody uses hydrogen peroxide anymore.  It delays recovery time.”

Huh, interesting.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” I said.  “If the wounds heal over embedded glass, it’ll be that much more unpleasant.”

That is a very good point.

“Do you have medical training?” she asked me, her tone disapproving.

A tiny bit, yes.

The wording does make it sound like she’s implying that she does. That ought to come in handy if she does.

“Not enough, no,” I said with a sigh.  I had the swarm pass over my hand again, picking up the hydrogen peroxide and depositing another plastic bottle in its place.  “Iodine?”

“Thank you,” she said, in a tone that was more impatient than grateful.  “We’re going to need more than this.”

I’m not so sure she can produce more. Maybe if she sends the bugs into other houses, someone’s got iodine in their cabinets? But how would the bugs open the cabinets? Better get lucky and find someone who’s left it out, and even then there’s the issue of identifying the bottles.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I told her, trying not to sound exasperated.

Yeah, this might not be so easy.

I followed the mass of people into the defunct factory that was next to the ambulances.

Sheets and cloths were pulled from machinery and laid atop boxes and on the ground, so people had places to sit and lie down.

I guess the factory functions as a makeshift hospital.

Gradually, people set about the process of marking the types of wounds and the presence of glass, buried or otherwise.

“Disinfectant?” a woman asked me.

Oh yeah, got any of that in the Hive?

I turned.  She was older, in her mid-fifties, roughly my height, and she had a pinched face. “What about it?”

“You’ve been pulling things out of the clouds of flies,” she told me, “Can you produce some disinfectant for us, or are you limited to art supplies and candles?”

Hah, I was right about how it looked! And it’s sort of backfiring. :p

I got the impression of a strict schoolteacher from her.  The kind who was a hardass with even the good students and a mortal enemy to the poor ones.

Eesh.

I’m just gonna go ahead and headcanon that she’s also the founder of a wrestling club, based on one of the hardass teachers I had.

It took some time for everyone to get moving, but they did.  My bugs passed me some candles and a lighter and I started handing them out with the pens and markers.

And then they went into the factory, set down the candles, used some chalk to draw on the floor, and summoned a demon who promptly destroyed them and all of Brockton Bay. The end.

Worm was a good story, guys! So let’s see, where do I find Ward…

He nodded and took the pen, turning to the not-quite-as-old man beside him.

Good luck!

I addressed the crowd, “Remember, dotted line around the wounds if you can see the glass or if you’re absolutely sure there’s no glass in there, circle if you can’t tell.  Once you or someone else has drawn the dotted line, you can take out the glass if it’s smaller than your thumbnail.  If it’s bigger, try to leave it alone!”

Sounds reasonable. Glass that’s smaller than a thumbnail probably doesn’t go much further than the skin. Though there is the risk of long pieces that look small on the surface.

“We need some elbow room,” the paramedic told me.  His blue gloves were slick with blood.  People were standing within two or three feet of him, watching what he was doing, trying to be close enough to be the next to get help when he was done with his current patient.

Skitter: *brings down an enormous swarm of flies over the paramedics, causing the crowd to back up*
Skitter: “Better?”

“They probably haven’t,” I replied, using my swarm to augment my voice, but not to carry it to the crowd.

“Probably not.  But we have to ask, and time we spend asking is time we could spend helping them.”

Exactly.

I grasped the hand of a grungy old man who stood next to me, stretching his arm out.  “Have you had your shots?”

He shook his head.

I used the pen to draw a ‘T’ on the back of his hand, circled it and drew a line through it.  I pressed the pen into the old man’s hand, “You go to people and ask them the same question.  If they haven’t had their shots, draw the same thing.  If they have, just draw the T.”

Seems like a good pair of symbols to use. Quite straight-forward.

I saw a glimmer of confusion in his eyes.  Was he illiterate?  I turned his hand over and drew a capital ‘T’ on his palm.

Huh. Alright.

“Like that, if they have had their shots” I said, raising his hand for people to see, then turned it around.  “Like that if they haven’t.”

And by doing this, she’s ensuring that people know he’s coming and what to expect. Good. 🙂