She smiled at the cactus shaped cake and swapped the white coat over her shoulders for the brown fake leather in her locker and a lime scarf. Refusing to look at the photos taped on the front of her locker, she pulled off the name tag and headed to admittance.
"Signing off." She put the tag in front of Randi on the desk.
"Good luck in Phoenix Dr. Lewis." Randi got back to her phone conversation, fiddling with Susan's nametag absentmindedly.
Susan couldn't leave quite yet. She looked at the exit and headed to exam one to say goodbye.
"Is there anything I can do?" Susan asked.
"Susan! What are you still doing here?" Carol keep busily working on the patient.
Susan walked on. One person she had to see...
But he did the same thing. The patient came first. That was the job. He prompted Maggie but she knew what she was doing. Mark wouldn't look at her. Maggie didn't need his help but he needed the distraction. Goodbye was not what he wanted to say to her.
She backed out of the room and let her eyes linger on him one last time before heading for the exit.
She'd almost crossed the threshold, the guilt of not saying goodbye already weighing on her shoulders.
Lydia's scream called her attention.
She turned back as a middle aged man waved a gun in her general direction. "You! Get away from the door."
She gasped and followed the few other people near the doorway as the gunman ushered them toward admittance. He returned the gun to Lydia's neck and continued shouting abuse.
"You don't want to do this pal." Al held his hands up and stepped forward, his fear perfectly evident in his eyes as this crazed patient held his wife's life on the line.
"I'm not pal of yours." The gunman pointed the gun at Al who stopped walking. He looked at Lydia, his eyes desperate to give her comfort. She returned the look.
Susan looked over to where Mark was working – through swing doors, only fifteen, maybe twenty meters away. He was about to come out. She could see Maggie still working but Mark was headed to the door. She looked at him willing him to see her.
He did.
She shook her head furiously. He just looked confused and smiled goofily. She held up nine fingers, then one, then one again. He took a moment to comprehend her and held up his hand like a phone.
She nodded and watched him tell Maggie to call the cops as he pushed through the door. "What's going on?"
"Nice try sweetheart." The gunman grabbed Susan.
Mark stopped where he was, his breath catching in his throat as one word escaped his lips unbidden, "Don't!"
"Hey. This is the one. You're the one who gave her those pills." The gunman ignored Mark, holding the gun under Susan's jaw and talking to her almost intimately.
She blinked, terrified and completely clueless as to what he was talking about.
"Buddy, you need to put the gun down." Mark stepped forward slowly.
"I don't think so buddy. This lady killed my girlfriend and now she's gonna pay."
Susan saw the fear in Mark's eyes.
"Don't." She croaked as Mark leapt forward to grab the gun.
The gunman turned and it went off in a blur as Mark took both Susan and the gunman to the ground.
Al rushed to them, pulling the gunman up and pinning him against a wall.
Susan pulled herself up in shock.
Mark tried to get up but found no strength in his arms and fell back down.
Doug appeared at his side. "Hey, you okay?"
Mark nodded and tried to get up again.
Doug caught him as he fainted. "Susan, grab that gurney." Panic edged into his voice.
Susan pulled the closest bed to them and helped Doug get him up. She searched his body with her eyes, immediately spotting a spreading red stain under his left ribs.
She sprang into action, barking orders, desperately trying to ignore the fact that he'd been trying to save her. She knew she was too personally involved. But it was Mark, who wasn't?