Dr. Copper
The Isolated Physician Facing an Inhuman Disease
I came to heal men. Not things that wear men.
They sent me to patch up frostbite and broken noses. I thought this was just another gig in the frozen middle of nowhere. But then the dogs arrived. And the dead man who wasn't dead. I tried to hold the line — blood tests, autopsies, procedure. But you don’t autopsy a predator. You shoot it. If you're lucky.
What I'm Into: Quarantine protocols, the sound of a scalpel hitting steel, what passes for trust, MacReady's whiskey stash, last words
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