I ground to a stop, my feet sliding on the dust. My hands shoot out, and I catch myself before my face meets the floor. It’s like a bloody jungle gym. A trail of blood leads into a room on my left. I peek in. My hearing’s starting to clear up when I see his face.
Bill kneels on the floor near the entrance. He shakes his head, his hands trembling. His eyes bulge, and when he motions me to come in farther, I notice his hand’s covered in blood. My heart stops.
I don’t want to see.
I hear more shooting in Cole’s direction, and the urge to run comes over me.
“No! Don’t leave,” Bill says sharply. His rigid posture and trembling lips tell me something more is going on in the room. “You gotta help me.” Locking my eyes onto his face, I step in.
At first, I only see a foot.
A hand.
Oh my God.
No.
With each step, I get a clearer image of what’s going on.
My throat tightens.
I cover my mouth with one hand to crush the scream that burns inside my throat.
No, please, God. No. No. No.
Grace lies on the floor, blood slowly amassing around her tiny frame.
My legs give out, and I fall to her side, dropping my gun beside me.
She whimpers with each breath, tears streaming from her eyes.
“Oh my God. Grace, no.” I shake my head fast. This is not happening. I fling my backpack off and unzip the top zipper. My hands fumble until I find the medical kit. I’m shaking so much Bill has to open it for me.
“Lusty, what do we do?” he asks. His face radiates pain. “You’re gonna help her, right?”
I nod my head and use the scissors to cut away her bloodstained shirt. There’s a bullet hole on the right side of her chest right below her bra. Blood’s bubbling out of it. Oh, Grace. I pause. Hold on. Please. Just hold on.
My eyes snap to Bill, who is blinking rapidly, holding back tears. My mind spins; I don’t know what to do for her, other than pack the wound with gauze. But what good would that do? Using the stethoscope, I listen to her injured lung. Nothing. No air moving in or out. I’m guessing her lung’s collapsed. Without medical intervention, she’s going to die, and we have nothing here to help her. No doctor. Nothing.
My heart races so fast, it pounds in my ears. A shooting pain runs down between my shoulder blades, and I bite down on my tongue. My shoulders slump forward, and I look into Grace’s eyes.
“How bad?” she asks. “It doesn’t hurt; it just burns.”
The words stick in my throat. I can’t cough them out. The last thing I want is to tell her the truth, but what choice do I have? I glance down at my hands quickly, noting the blood covering my fingertips, and attempt to steady my breathing.
“I’m not going to die, am I?” She takes a deep breath and coughs a few times. “Lexi, say something!” Her question stabs my core, smashing it with a hammer. “Lexi?”
“Grace … I think the bullet … went through your lung.” My chest shakes because I can’t hold back my emotions. My friend is dying, and once again, I can’t do anything about it. “It’s collapsed.”
Hopeless.
Worthless.
That’s what I am right now.
Her breathing picks up pace, and she asks, “What does that mean?”
“It’s not working.”
Why her? It should be me, not her. She has everything to live for. A baby. A new life.
I wipe tears with my forearm.
“Hey, it’s okay, I still have another one … right?” Her eyes search mine, flitting back and forth between them. She’s making jokes, trying to cheer me up even now.
“Yes, but … ”
“Oh, dear God in heaven … I’m dying, aren’t I?”
I swallow hard and choke out, “No! You’re not!” I gently hug her. “Just hang in there, you hear me?”
She rubs the back of my head and says, “Okay.”
“I’m sorry, Grace; this is all my fault,” Bill says, his voice cracking.
“No.” She gasps. Tears spill over her eyes as she takes a few more gasps of air. “This wasn’t your fault.”
Bill looks frantically through the medical supplies as I hold pressure to her wound.
“What about this needle thing?” he asks, holding it in front of me.
“I don’t know … I’m not a doctor, Bill.”
Useless.
Failure.
Taking Grace’s wrist into my hand, I feel her clammy skin and take her pulse, but it’s so rapid, I don’t even bother trying to count, and that’s when she starts the dry, hacking cough.
Her chest rises and falls faster each passing minute. Oh my God, please help her. Help me. I don’t have time to find help. She doesn’t have much time.
“Grace, look at me.” I take her hands in mine, and her chin trembles. She bites her lip and shakes her head. There’s no holding back my tears. I’m losing her. I gag on my words, bury my face in her hand for a second, and kiss her cold skin. I swallow hard, clear my throat, and glance at her. Already the skin around her lips is turning bluish.
“I need to get you to Bruno, right now. And you need to tell him.”
“I can’t … ”
“Yes, you can. You’re a strong woman, Grace.”
“Lexi, whatever you do, protect my baby. I don’t want to lose him.”