“Son of a bitch, wake up.” Sam slapped Kristen across the face. He gripped her cheeks between his thumb and fingers and squeezed hard. He shook her face and slapped it again. She didn’t move. “I said to wake up, damn you!” When he let go, her head dropped to her chest. He felt for a pulse. She was dead. “You stupid bitch, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Sam kicked over the chair that stood in his way and checked on Bethany. Her head bobbled when he called her name. She gave a nearly inaudible moan. He slapped her inner arm to check for viable veins—they were almost invisible. “There’s no way I’m going to let you die before I get more blood out of you.”
Sam quickly set up the equipment. He wiped her inner elbow with a cotton ball dipped in rubbing alcohol and placed the empty transfusion bag on her lap. He connected the clear tube to the end of the bag. Next he tightened a rubber tourniquet around her upper arm. With a couple of snaps of his thumb and index finger against her skin, he was able to see a faint blue vein. He jammed the needle deep into the vein and taped it in place. With the end of the tube inserted in the needle port, he flipped the valve and watched as new blood seeped out of Bethany’s arm and into the bag. Sam sighed deeply then got back to work.
He cleared the area around the gurney. After he set up the collection jugs beneath it, he pulled the tape and ropes off Kristen. He carried her lifeless body to the gurney and dropped her on it. He had no idea how long she had been dead, but rigor hadn’t set in. He’d drain her blood. That was what he’d sell.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to transfuse a dead person’s blood into Mom. Kristen’s blood is what I’ll sell.
That thought reminded him that he needed to take a trip to the library. As soon as he had Kristen set up and her blood draining into the jugs, he’d head out to check for a response from Massimo.