Christine entered back into the room holding a rope and pair of zip ties she’d fetched from the car.
"He's been fine, just moaning," Stuart stated as Christine marched back into the room.
She nodded and took a moment to observe. Michael was calm, not quite relaxed, but calm. She knew the worst was yet to come for him. "Here take these," she handed Stuart the zip ties and a rope. "Bind his ankles together, then tie this around his ankles beneath the bed. Make sure it's tight. He's going to squirm. Left-arm to the post. Leave his right arm down, he can't move it anyways."
"Why do you have this?" Stuart smirked.
"The Company uses it to torture people." Christine stated bluntly, "Now, do it."
Stuart obliged, strapping Michael to the bed. Christine stepped to Michael and pulled the edge of the zip ties hard, cutting into his skin. "There." She said, "Now, I need you to lay across him to keep him still."
Stuart looked at her in disbelief but begrudgingly climbed on top of him. "Keep him still, and this will be fast."
Slowly Christine removed the wrap and pulled off the cloth. The wound was still damp, but not oozing out as it had been when she'd first removed the bullet. "This is going to hurt a lot." She warned, lifting the spray to the wound.
She sprayed two quick squirts of alcohol directly into the wound. Michael let out a blood-curdling scream that pushed the rag from his mouth. The cry was piercing as Stuart fell off the bed. Christine grabbed the cloth and did her best to shove it back into Michael's mouth, dampening the noise. "Hold him down, we need to do that one more time." Michael shook his head no pleading with his eyes. "This one won't hurt as bad, I promise," Christine said truthfully, spraying before Michael knew it was going to happen. "There." She said, "You can get up now, Stuart."
She walked to the restroom and grabbed a hand towel and wet it with warm water. She rubbed I gently across Michael's bare arm, wiping away the excess blood.
"Someone's outside," Stuart said suddenly.
"What?" Christine whipped her head around to seeing nobody.
"Someone just walked by the window, I saw someone." His face was tense.
"It was probably just—" Christine's words were cut short by a loud knock on the door.
"Go, get in the bathroom." She whispered to Stuart. "Get in. Just leave him and go!"
She cautiously walked to the door and peeked through the peephole. She flicked off the lights.
"May I help you?" she cracked the door open and looked down at the overweight desk worker, "Your name was Richard, right?"
"We've had some noise complaints about this room." Richard stated, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his flat nose, "Two guests said they heard screaming. Like a man was suffering?" He looked down at a tiny notepad to make sure he'd stated the facts correctly, "I heard something too, but it was quiet because my desk is all the way down there." He pointed without looking.
Christine let out a devious giggle. She cracked the door a bit wider and flicked the light on and off real fast, allowing Richard to catch a glimpse of Michael tied to the bed, "Just passion Richard."
Richard blushed, "They said it sounded like—" He looked back to his notes.
"Would you like to join?" Christine offered.
Richard nearly swallowed his tongue, visibly flustered. "I…umm..sorry.." He paused to gather himself, "Yes, please." A small grin stretched across his puffy face.
"Another time." Christine slid his hand off the door, smiled and closed it. "Goodnight, Richard." She said. She watched through the peephole as Richard stared at the door. He raised his hand to knock again but put it down. He stared a bit longer then wobbled back down the sidewalk.
Once she was confident he was gone, she turned to go back to the bed.
"What was that?" Stuart's eyes were wide as he stepped from the restroom.
"Need a cigarette?" Christine replied. "Grab another towel and get it wet, need to clean him up again."
After wiping the blood, she grabbed a needle and thread. Carefully she pushed the needle through the split skin and stitched the wound together. "There," she sat back. She wiped over the stitches with the towel cleaning it the best she could. It wasn't the best stitch job, but it'd work through the night. She grabbed the scissors and cut Michael from his bonds.
"How'd you know how to do this?" Stuart asked.
"Why don't you know? You work for a company that might kill you at any time," She replied, turning back to Michael, "Tomorrow, we'll get you to a real hospital. Tonight's going to be awful, but once again, it'll all be over soon."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. After fiddling with the device, she held up the screen so Michael could view a photo. The image was a man appearing to be in his mid-twenties. He had long, dirty blonde hair, droopy eyes, and patchy facial hair. His body was strapped to the bed very similar to the way Michael's had just been.
"Is this Gary?" She asked.
Michael took a long look at the photo. The man appeared a bit younger than he assumed Gary to be. The eyes seemed to match. Gary had long brown hair too.
"Is this Gary?" She asked again, "This is the man that was following you. He's already confessed, I just need you to identify him."
"Yes, that's him," Michael said weakly, "That's the guy I met."
Christine smiled, "Good, now get some rest. You need to stay upright, though, to keep the swelling down." She turned to Stuart, "Get some rest as well. We're leaving early tomorrow."