Chapter 3

3:45 pm, Friday, September 24, 2021:

Ryan saw Deputy Sanders as he walked down the hall to the interrogation room. Sanders looked at him and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Sanders said, touching the brim of his Stetson.

“Hey, Sanders,” Ryan said, motioning for him to enter the observation room. Sanders followed and the two of them looked at Jeremy Rodgers, now sitting behind a small table, his hands cuffed and secured to the table.

“Nice job on the arrest,” Ryan said. “I watched the body cam footage. Good work with Mrs. Anderson, by the way.”

“Thanks, Sheriff,” Sanders said. “I’ve known that sweet old lady my whole life. Didn’t want her any more scared than she already was.” They looked at Rodgers and saw him squirming in the hard chair. “Hard to believe that boy killed Commissioner Higgins. Look at him. He’s shaking like a leaf in there.”

“Takes all kinds, Deputy,” Ryan said.

“Reckon so. Still, if you ask me, I’d say his bread’s not quite done, if you know what I mean,” Sanders said. Ryan nodded his head.

“You may be right,” Ryan said. “Not our call to make, though.”

“I suppose not,” Sanders said. “If anyone can figure this out, Detective Hale can.” Ryan agreed with Sanders’ assessment. The former NYPD detective had earned the trust and admiration of everyone in the department since coming to Hard Rock.

“I hear they got his van and all of his stuff out of her house,” Ryan said.

“Yeah, Ron and the boys are going through it all now,” Sanders said. Just then, the door to the interrogation room opened and a large black man in a dark suit entered the room. Ryan had tried to get Ray to adopt something more “western,” but Ray wouldn’t hear of it.

As they watched, Ray sat down, started the recording and opened his folder, putting pictures of Higgins and the crime scene on the table. Jeremy recoiled at the sight of Higgins’ body impaled by a spear. Ray looked at Jeremy for a few moments before speaking.

“I understand you’ve been read your Miranda rights. Do you understand those rights as they’ve been explained to you, Mr. Rodgers?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jeremy said.

“Before we begin, would you like to consult with an attorney or have one present during questioning?” Ray asked. Jeremy shook his head.

“I don’t need no attorney,” Jeremy said. Ray looked at Jeremy, examining his face for any signs of emotion or regret.

“You might want to reconsider,” the detective said. “I understand the District Attorney will push for the death penalty. For you, for Mrs. Higgins and ... for your sister,” he added, pausing for effect. Jeremy looked up at Ray, his eyes wide, but only for a moment. Then he broke down, sobbing.

“Noooooo,” he moaned. “You want to kill my sister?”

“I don’t want to kill anyone, Mr. Rodgers,” Ray said calmly. “But justice has to be served. The three of you took Commissioner Higgins’ life. And in this state, that often means the death penalty.”

“No! Not my Ginger! Please! I’m begging you. Kill me if you have to. Don’t kill her. I’ll confess to whatever you want. Just don’t kill my sister,” Jeremy moaned, hot tears falling down his face.

Ray sat back and watched Jeremy’s response before glancing at the observation window where he knew Ryan was watching. Then he turned his attention back to Jeremy. He knew he could easily wring a confession out of Jeremy, but he also knew how easy it was for a case like this to go sideways in court.

“I tell you what, Mr. Rodgers,” Ray finally said. “I’m going to go make a couple phone calls. You just sit here and think about things for a bit.” He paused the recording, gathered his folder and walked out of the room. He entered the observation room and spoke to Ryan.

“Something’s not quite right with that young man,” he said. “I’m especially worried about his willingness to confess to anything to protect his sister. That could taint everything else he says in court. I’m going to call Callender and see if he’ll take Jeremy on since he’s representing the other two. If he won’t, then I’ll have to call a public defender. I also want someone to evaluate Mr. Rodgers. Make sure he’s competent enough to stand trial.”

“You think there’s a chance he may not be competent?” Ryan asked.

“Personally, no,” Ray said. “I just want to make sure we’ve crossed all the t’s and dotted all the i’s. Last thing I want is to see a prosecution go bad because of some minor technicality.” He turned to Deputy Sanders. “Would you mind keeping an eye on Rodgers for a bit, Deputy?” he asked.

“Not at all, Detective,” Sanders said.

“Thank you,” Ray said. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He turned and left the room. Ryan and Sanders looked at Jeremy, who was now sobbing with his head on the table.

“You saw how he reacted when Detective Hale mentioned his sister?” Sanders asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Ryan said.

“You think ... he had something going on with his own sister?” Sanders asked. Ryan looked at Sanders and nodded his head slightly.

“I think that’s a very real possibility,” Ryan said. Sanders shook his head.

“That’s just sick,” he said.

“There’s all kinds of crimes, deputy. Some are worse than others,” Ryan said, patting him on the shoulder. “Keep an eye on him now, y’hear?”

“Will do, Sheriff,” Sanders said as Ryan left the room.

...

Ryan walked into the garage where Ron and his team were going through the contents of Jeremy’s van. He looked around and saw all kinds of electronic equipment. He found Ron looking at a box of documents.

“What have you found so far?” Ryan asked.

“All kinds of stuff, Sheriff,” Ron said. “Van is currently registered to Jeremy. Address on the registration is Clovis, California. There was a fold-down bed in the back of the van, and this was packed away underneath it. Cameras, computers, lights, audio recorders, you name it. Expensive stuff. The kind used by professionals. Found a box full of DVDs. You can guess what’s on ‘em.”

“Porn?” Ryan asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said. “Seems the Rodgers liked to record themselves. A lot. The bedding in there is loaded with DNA. I get the feeling they didn’t wash it very often. If nothing else, you have an open-and-shut case for incest.”

“No weapons?” Ryan asked. Ron shook his head.

“No, none,” Ron said. “We’re still going through everything. Could take some time, though. I’m sending these up to Ray,” he added, patting the box of documents.

“Okay, keep me in the loop,” Ryan said.

“Will do, Sheriff,” Ron said. Ryan nodded his head and headed out for a quick smoke before going back to his office. On his way, he ran into Ray.

“Join me for a quick smoke?” Ryan asked.

“Sure,” Ray said. When they got to the smoking area, Ryan offered Ray a cigarette and lit them.

“Talked to Callender,” Ray said. “He agreed to represent Jeremy.”

“Good,” Ryan said. “What else?”

“I spoke with the County Health and Human Services Commission,” Ray said. “They agreed to have someone speak with Rodgers and provide an initial assessment.”

“You honestly don’t think he’s incompetent, do you?” Ryan asked.

“Personally, no,” Ray said. “It’s just the way he reacted when I mentioned his sister ... Look, I know these assessments are usually ordered by the judge. I just want to head that off if possible.”

“Good thinking,” Ryan said. “I spoke with Ron. They’re going through Jeremy’s van now. He’s got a box of documents coming your way. You should know they found a lot of high-end camera gear and computers under a bed in that van. Also found a number of DVDs.” Ray closed his eyes as he exhaled.

“Do I need to ask what’s on them?” he asked.

“No, I think you’ve probably already guessed what’s on them,” Ryan said. “Probably should review them anyway, just in case there’s something we’ve missed. The van is registered to Jeremy at an address in Clovis, California. I’m wondering if we need to check it out. Maybe get a bit of background so we know what we’re dealing with.”

“By ‘we,’ I presume you mean, me?” Ray asked.

“Well, you ARE the lead detective on the case,” Ryan said. Ray laughed at that.

“What the hell. I’ve always wanted to see California,” Ray said.

“I’ll have Sgt. Bledsoe make the arrangements for Monday or Tuesday,” Ryan said. “I’d like you to be there for Commissioner Higgins’ memorial tomorrow.” Ray nodded his head. “So, when is the counselor going to see Rodgers?”

“Earliest they can get anyone over is Wednesday,” Ray said.

“You should be back from California by then. Unless, you plan to stay there,” Ryan said with a smile.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Ray said. “I like it here with you too much.”

...

Half a world away, Allison Gatsby opened up her secure video messaging application and saw the blurred face of the blonde woman at the other end of the connection. She shook her head and laughed before speaking. She already knew the woman’s real name and knew she was in Cancun.

“What can I do for you, AG?” the blonde asked.

“How long before you can wrap things up there?” Allison asked.

“At the earliest, maybe 10 days. Why?”

“I need you to go to Hard Rock, Texas,” Allison said.

“Hard Rock? What happened? Did your little experiment go south on you?” the blonde asked.

“Something like that,” Allison said.

“And you need me to clean things up for you? Again?”

“I need you to do a recon. I need to know what’s going on,” Allison said.

“A recon? What happened?”

“Let’s just say things didn’t work out as well as I had hoped,” Allison said. “Higgins and her contractors have been arrested. For murder.” The blonde woman sighed heavily and shook her head.

“What do you know about this place?” the blonde asked. Allison shrugged her shoulders.

“Not much. It’s just a tiny dot on the map. Nothing important. Why do you ask?”

“So, you don’t know anything about the place? You just made assumptions. You know what they say about assumptions and fuck-ups, don’t you?”

“I’ve heard what you’ve said about them, yes,” Allison said. “You sound like you know more about the place than I do.”

“Yes, I do,” the blonde said. “Specifically, I know who the sheriff is.”

“Oh?” Allison asked. “Who?” Allison watched as the blonde did something on her computer. A few seconds later, she saw a picture on her screen of a large man with a full beard, a jagged scar and a patch covering his left eye. He looked ... scary. The image made Allison wet between her legs.

“Before you start frigging yourself,” the blonde began. “His name is Ryan Caldwell. He’s been the sheriff there for about a year. After his first wife left him for Jacob Knight, he became a mercenary. Did that for about 10 years before settling down in Hard Rock.”

“Knight? The oil tycoon?” Allison asked.

“Former oil tycoon,” the blonde said. “He assumed room temperature while taking a crap in the courthouse. Rumor has it Caldwell led a raid against a compound the company owned in southeastern New Mexico.”

“Really?” Allison asked, her excitement growing. Finally, a man worthy of her, she thought. “Any survivors?”

“No. Word is they had his daughter and grandson,” the blonde said.

“Then why wasn’t he arrested?” Allison asked.

“Officially, the FBI determined the raid was conducted by a drug cartel from south of the border,” the blonde said. “Caldwell was made sheriff of Hard Rock shortly afterward.”

“Is he married?” Allison asked. Another picture popped up, this time of another blonde woman.

“Yes,” the blonde said. “Her name is Beverly. She’s a local girl. Most people refer to her as the ‘egg lady.’ She keeps chickens and sells the eggs they produce.”

“I ... see,” Allison said, the wheels in her head turning. “She seems a bit ... traditional. Unenlightened. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Don’t even think of it,” the blonde said. “From what I hear, Ryan and Beverly are extremely devoted to one another. If anything were to happen to her, he would tear heaven and earth apart to rescue her. And trust me, you don’t want to see that happen.”

“Oh?” Allison asked.

“From what I heard, he cut Elmer Jenkins’ head off and tossed it in a burning fireplace. It wasn’t a pretty sight,” the blonde said.

“Elmer Jenkins?” Allison asked, her stomach churning just a bit at what the blonde woman told her.

“The former Chairman of the Board of Directors for Knight Petroleum.”

“Damn. Why is it you know so much about this man?” Allison asked after a few awkward moments.

“I’ve seen him in action before,” the blonde said. “It’s not something I want to experience again. Personally, I think I’d rather try to skin a live wolverine,” she added in a perfectly flat, toneless voice that gave AG a shiver. “I kept a loose tab on him, just in case he went back into business. So, tell me, did you send the termination messages?”

“I did,” Allison said. “I only got one response back. From Higgins.”

“Nothing from the contractor?”

“No, not yet,” Allison said.

“I see,” the blonde said. “It’s a good thing Mona isn’t around to see this. You know what she would have done, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” Allison said, grateful that she had enough foresight to have her implant removed before leaving the States. “But that’s irrelevant now. I need eyes in Hard Rock, right now.”

“Ten days is the earliest I can get there,” the blonde said. “In the meantime, monitor the situation as best you can. Don’t do anything until you hear back from me. And hope they don’t manage to link you to the Higgins woman. Understand?”

“Yes,” Allison said. “I’ve got it under control.”

“I doubt that,” the blonde woman said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have contacted me. I’ll be in touch. Goodbye.” The connection ended and Allison thought about what the other woman said. She was right. If Mona or anyone on the original leadership team had still been alive, chances are she would have been terminated for this.

But they were all dead now. For all intents and purposes, Allison was the one in charge, despite what the arrogant blonde woman intimated. She resolved to wait the ten days, but not much more. She turned her attention to the picture of Ryan Caldwell and slid a finger in her pussy, fantasizing what it would be like to get fucked by someone like him – a REAL man, someone not afraid to do what needs to be done.

...

11:30 am, Saturday, September 25, 2021

The football stadium at the edge of town was filled to capacity as the locals came out to pay their respects to Bertram Higgins. Every seat in the large stadium was occupied and hundreds of fold-out chairs occupied nearly half of the area inside the stadium to accommodate the overflow.

Ryan and Beverly made their way to the group of chairs on the raised platform at one end of the football field. Ryan wore his dress uniform, his polished stars gleaming on his collars and his shoulders. Beverly wore a tasteful black dress. Even dressed like this, Ryan thought she was the most beautiful woman in the whole stadium.

The other county officials joined them on the platform. Two very large photos of Bertram were positioned in front of the platform. They stood for the national anthem, performed by the high school band, then stood for the Marine Corps hymn, in recognition of Bertram’s military service.

They sat and listened to one speech after another, as politicians told personal stories and paid homage to Bertram’s service to the community. Ryan had his turn at the podium and spoke highly about Bertram, praising him as a man who supported law and order. He ended his speech with a promise to see justice done. That promise elicited a standing ovation from the entire crowd. He sat down to see Beverly gleaming with pride.

The memorial, which lasted for nearly two hours, was broadcast live by the local television stations. Trudy Higgins, still in her one-person cell, was forced to watch it on the monitor attached to the wall. A female guard eyed Trudy with disgust as one speaker after another heaped praise on Bertram. A tear fell down Trudy’s cheek as she thought about her late husband.

They married young and were so much in love. When Bertram went into the service, she promised to wait for him, no matter what. She kept her promise and was so proud of her husband when he returned after spending four years in the Marines.

They were so happy in those early years and made love as often as possible. Bertram worked hard to build upon the already-successful family business before going into politics. Their son was born a year after they married and went on to become a star player on the high school football team. Both Trudy and Bertram were so proud when he was chosen for the Air Force Academy.

She never cheated on Bertram in those years, and she never thought her husband would ever cheat on her. She knew his work sometimes required him to stay late, and she also knew he sometimes had to take trips out of town.

She accompanied him on as many of those trips as she could, and tolerated the late nights and phone calls that never seemed to stop. It was all just part of being a county commissioner, she told herself. It was even harder when he ran for re-election. The calls and meetings seemed to be never-ending.

But she realized that his work was important. After all, he was the one who managed to entice businesses to set up shop in Hard Rock. Because of him, more people would be able to get good, full-time jobs with benefits.

Then one night, she stopped by the county administrative building and happened to look up. There, standing in a window, was Bertram. One of his assistants, Sheila Robertson, jumped up and hugged him tightly. To Trudy’s dismay, he hugged her back.

She felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach. Never in her life would she have thought that Bertram would betray her like this. How could he, she asked herself. Wiping a tear from her eye, she slowly made her way back home and waited for Bertram.

When he got home, he smelled like steak. He threw his arms around her and told her that a new mall would be coming to town. It was something he had been working on for some time.

“Where were you?” she asked him.

“We went out for a steak dinner,” he said. “I tried calling you to join us, but got your voicemail.”

“And just who was with you?” she asked.

“Sheila, Andrew, a couple others,” he said. “Why? What’s going on?”

“You tell me,” she said in a cold tone of voice. He looked at her, confused.

“Look, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but there’s nothing going on,” he said.

“So, you always hug Sheila at work?” she asked.

“Not always. We hugged each other when we got word the deal had been approved,” he said. “Wait, you think I’ve been having an affair, don’t you?”

“Well, what would you think?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You know I love you, don’t you? I’d never do anything like that to you.”

“I’d like to think you love me,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, taking her in his arms. “You’re the only one for me. You always have been. And you always will be.” She let him make love to her that night, but kept an eye on him from that moment on. She heard what he said, but didn’t believe him.

One day, not too long after that, she was surfing the Internet when she saw a pop-up ad from a company known as the Mutual Marital Assurance Society. The ad read, “Is your husband cheating on you? Would you like to put a stop to it? Let us help you.” The ad gave a website address and a toll-free number.

She called the number and spoke to a woman who seemed to understand what she was going through. After visiting the website, she signed up for a weekend “spa retreat” in Austin. Bertram didn’t say much when she told him she was going, but she followed the script given to her by the woman on the phone, and he acquiesced.

She learned so much at the retreat and the women who ran the event seemed to know exactly what she was feeling – the pain, anger and humiliation. They also helped her devise a way to punish Bertram so he would never cheat on her again. Sure, he would be in pain for a while, and he would feel a certain amount of humiliation. But it would be nothing compared to what she felt.

The women at the retreat also taught her how to take control of her marriage. They informed her that the modern concept of fidelity was outdated, a male construct designed to keep women enslaved. Men, they explained, are a dime a dozen. It’s natural for men to be used and discarded once their usefulness was over.

If Trudy had been thinking straight, she would’ve seen through the hypocrisy she was being fed. But thanks to the chemicals and the hypnosis they used on her, she wasn’t thinking straight. By the time she left the retreat, she was a completely different woman. An empowered woman, in charge of her life and her marriage.

Bertram didn’t like the woman who came back from Austin. At all. She had become hard, bitter – a shrew who belittled him at every turn. Then she started cheating on Bertram. First, with the gardener and the pool boy. Then she started with some of the ranch hands.

Her husband noticed the snickers and the little jokes being told behind his back, and confronted her. But she just smirked and dismissed him like a school-boy. He threatened divorce, but she quietly informed him that she would ruin him both financially and politically if he filed against her.

She was happy when she saw the first “invoice” from MMAS, and set it on his desk, hoping it would get his attention. But he simply chucked it in the shredder. The same thing happened to the next two invoices they received. No more invoices appeared after that, and she began to wonder why. She called the number she had been given at the retreat, only to find that it had been disconnected.

About nine months after the retreat, she and Bertram were invited to attend a big Party function in San Antonio. Party officers and elected officials from around the country were expected to attend, and she wanted so much to meet them.

That’s where she met Nancy Garrison, the rich wife of the senior senator from Wyoming, Franklin Legstrom. Legstrom encouraged Bertram to run for federal office, but Bertram liked where he was and had already pledged support for the incumbents. He also didn’t like the idea of being just one representative out of more than 400 others. He would be a small fish in a very big pond.

As the two men talked, Nancy explained to Trudy that things had changed a lot since her retreat in Austin. The corporation known as MMAS no longer existed, Nancy explained, and something newer, a “sisterhood” more powerful and effective than the old organization, was being put into place. Nancy gave her an email address of a woman to contact for more information, and suggested she use secure email, something that could be encrypted.

“I’ll be in touch,” Nancy told her the day they left the convention. “Keep doing what you’re doing, though.”

As promised, Nancy stayed in touch with her, giving her suggestions on how best to control Bertram. Trudy also contacted the mysterious “AG” and received a curt response: “Don’t contact me. I’ll contact you when the time is right.”

Things got worse between Bertram and Trudy. He got to the point that he no longer slept in the master bedroom. The tipping point was when Trudy tried to make him lick her pussy after she had just screwed one of the ranch hands.

When he realized what she was trying to do, he threw her off of him as hard as he could and reared back to punch her in the face. He stopped when he realized what he was about to do, got out of the bed and went into a guest room. He had never struck a woman before and wasn’t about to go to jail for hitting Trudy. She just wasn’t worth it. Trudy got off the bed and chased him into the guest room to confront him.

“What’s the matter?” she chided him. “Can’t handle a real woman?” When he turned, she saw the murderous expression on his face.

“If you ever touch me again, cunt, I’ll fucking kill you. Understand?” he growled.

“We’ll just see about that,” she hissed when she collected herself.

“By the way, I want a divorce,” he told her before slamming the door in her face.

“In your dreams,” she said. But Bertram never heard her. From then on, Bertram wore a pistol strapped to his waist whenever he was at home, and made sure she saw it. She was under no delusions – he would carry out his threat if she ever attempted anything.

She was shocked the day she learned that Nancy and a number of her accomplices in Washington and New York had been arrested. Making matters worse, she learned that Sen. Legstrom had committed suicide. Two months later, she received a message from “AG.”

“The sisterhood needs you now. Two contractors will be dispatched to Hard Rock. They will contact you when they arrive,” the message said. Trudy knew better than to respond with anything more than a basic acknowledgment, so she sent a short message: “Received.”

She waited for the contractors. After a month went by with no word from them, she considered contacting “AG,” but didn’t. A couple weeks later, she received a call from someone named Ginger Rodgers. She had just opened an erotic boutique in a strip mall by the freeway and wanted to speak with her about developing business locally. Trudy nearly hung up on her, but didn’t when Ginger said, “AG suggested I contact you.”

“I’ll meet you this evening,” Trudy told her. While Trudy met with Ginger, Bertram finally managed to hack into her secure email. He had been trying for months, but had been unsuccessful. Once in her email, he began to realize the full nature of Trudy’s betrayal. He knew he had to speak with Sheriff Caldwell about this, but he also knew he had to be very careful.

A couple nights later, Bertram and Trudy went to a county dinner. Bertram planned to corner Ryan and tell him what was going on that night. He did speak to Ryan, but was unable to tell him what he had learned. He promised Ryan he would see him later, but that never happened.

Trudy watched him like a hawk. What he didn’t know was that two contractors – Ginger and Jeremy Rodgers – were waiting for him at his home. When he opened the door to their home, Trudy walked in first as he turned off the security alarm. Once he closed the door, the two contractors pounced, injecting something into his neck.

They carried him into the master bedroom. As Trudy watched, the two contractors stripped Bertram naked and tied him to something that looked like an “X.” They attached a chastity device to his penis – one Trudy had selected specifically to ensure maximum pain. The man – Jeremy – operated a camera as Ginger slipped into a strange outfit that covered her entire body, even her face. They put a ball gag in Bertram’s mouth and waited for him to wake up.

When he woke up, he realized what was going on and began struggling, but to no avail. Trudy walked up to him and spit in his face.

“Now, you’re going to get the punishment you deserve,” she hissed. She turned to Ginger and nodded. The young woman began beating Bertram severely, striking his entire body, including his testicles. He screamed as best he could through the ball gag, but his screams fell on deaf ears. Finally, he passed out from the pain.

Ginger untied him from the frame and they put Bertram’s unconscious body on the bed, propping his ass up with a pillow and tying him so he couldn’t move away. Then Ginger put on the longest strap-on dildo Trudy had ever seen. They waited for him to regain consciousness, and that’s when Ginger began shoving the monstrous dildo up his ass.

Trudy laughed maniacally as he screamed in pain and thrashed back and forth, trying to get Ginger away from him. After she finished with him, Ginger removed the ball gag and replaced it with the dildo she just pulled out of his ass. He nearly threw up, but Ginger slapped his face, hard. When they finished, Bertram lay on the bed, staring at Trudy and the two who just assaulted him.

“I ... am ... going ... to ... fucking ... KILL ... all of you,” he hissed through his pain.

“I don’t think so,” Trudy said. “If you do or say anything, a video of tonight’s fun and games will be sent to every member of the commissioner’s court, along with all of your friends. They’ll have a whole different opinion of you. You can kiss your political career goodbye. From now on, you’ll do as I say, when I say it. Any deviation will be dealt with. Harshly. Do you understand, or do these nice young people need to explain it further?”

“You win, for now,” Bertram finally said. “But this isn’t over. And you’d better watch your back from now on.” Trudy laughed at that.

“Yeah, right. You just keep telling yourself that,” she said. The three of them laughed and gave each other high fives. Ginger and Jeremy took the ropes off Bertram and helped him into the guest bedroom. He reached for his pistol but Jeremy stopped him.

“You don’t want to do that, old man,” Jeremy said. “Besides, we took out all the bullets. And hid the rest.” They all had a good laugh at that. “Now, you be a good boy and do as mommy says, otherwise we’ll be back. And we won’t go so easy next time. Trust me, my sister’s an expert in dishing out pain.” Bertram looked at them in shock. Trudy closed the bedroom door as she left. She didn’t even bother to check his wounds or put anything on them so they could heal. He eventually passed out from the pain.