“I wounded him. He fired back at me, then ran off,” Debbie said, sounding a little winded.
“Hell.” Allan got on his knees in front of Tara. “Hope you hit him somewhere that’s going to slow him down and force him to seek medical attention.” Better yet, that would kill him. Tara’s heart was beating way too slowly, and she was bleeding from three bullet wounds. All the wounds had evidence of burning. Silver rounds. He yanked out his cell phone and said to Debbie, “Get a blanket for her, will you?”
He called Paul and told him the emergency. “One of our wolves is wounded. Shooter’s gone but could still be in the area. Debbie says she thinks she shot him.” Allan gave him the location.
“Lori told us you might be in trouble. We’re already on our way. Where’s Debbie?” Paul asked, his voice dark with concern.
Allan knew what he was worried about—the wolf dying and turning human in front of her.
When Allan didn’t hear Debbie leaving to get the blanket out of his vehicle, he glanced back at her. She was sitting on the snowy beach now, blood soaking her pant leg and dripping onto the pristine snow.
“Hell, Debbie.” Allan realized then she was in shock. “Debbie’s been shot. Leg wound, it appears. She saw the red Camaro up on the logging road and called it in to Rowdy’s office.” Allan pulled out his knife. “No telling who’s going to be up here and when.”
“Okay, we’re on our way. We’ll have to salvage the situation the best we can. Out here.” Paul ended the call and Allan knew he’d get hold of their EMTs and doctor, and the alert roster would be notified. They had to get Tara out of here ASAP.
He was afraid he was losing her. He had to remove the rounds quickly and ensure she wouldn’t die. She was so sweet and innocent. He’d never heard her say anything bad about anyone. She was meek and mild mannered, a real beta wolf. He couldn’t imagine anyone shooting her. He quickly cut out the rounds digging into Tara side, then bandaged her. But then she quit breathing.
Damn it to hell.
“Where exactly are you injured?” he asked Debbie again, not liking that she had taken a bullet, but hoping she hadn’t been hit more than once and it wasn’t critical enough that he had to take care of it immediately. He had to revive Tara before he could see to his partner.
“Leg,” she said, sounding so weak, not being able to take care of her too was killing him. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and she was leaning over like she was about to collapse. She knew first aid, but she appeared to be too injured to do anything for herself.
Even so, Tara was worse off at the moment.
He started CPR. Tara still wasn’t breathing. He prepared to give the wolf mouth-to-nose resuscitation, cleared her airway, placed his mouth over her nostrils, and blew four quick breaths.
He did this again after two to three seconds, allowing the air to exhale, then continued breathing into her nostrils until normal breathing finally returned.
As soon as she was breathing and seemed to be stable, he turned to see to Debbie and heard vehicles parking back at the road. Thanking God that he’d have help and the shooter hadn’t returned to finish them off, he began working on Debbie. She was on her side now. From the way she was lying, her gaze was turned in Tara’s direction.
He found where Debbie’s wound was bleeding and tore open her pants so he could bandage the wound. He should have turned her away from seeing Tara. But Tara was still a wolf, and he was too busy trying to stem the bleeding from Debbie’s wound to move her. Her skin was cold and clammy, her pulse weak. Her gaze seemed unfocused.
But then her heart went into cardiac arrest and Allan had to begin CPR. This would go down as one of the worst days of his life.
He was sweating up a storm despite the frigid air. Suddenly, the EMTs were taking over, stabilizing Debbie and placing her in the ambulance. They also had to take Tara—but not as a wolf. She’d already turned.
*
“Did Debbie see Tara shift?” Paul asked Allan after he had gone home, showered, changed, and washed the blood out of his clothing, then met up with Paul at his lakeside cabin.
Allan was staring out at the lake, some of its surface frozen near the shoreline. “What?”
Paul said, “Allan, listen to me. I’ve asked you three times. Did Debbie see Tara shift?”
“Debbie was unfocused, in shock. She was looking in Tara’s direction, but I don’t think she really was seeing anything.”
Paul ran his hands through his hair. “What about the shooter?”
Allan shook his head. “I don’t know. I was concentrating on Tara. I didn’t even realize Debbie had been hit. What about Tara? Debbie? How are they doing?” Allan couldn’t believe Paul had made him come here when he wanted to see the women at the clinic. Yet deep down, Allan knew why. He just didn’t want to deal with the truth.