For a moment, nobody moves. In fact, it's almost as if time stopped the second PT squeezed the trigger.
Tara braced herself for the pain she was certain was coming. The man had to have the aim of a stormtrooper in order to not hit her at such close range, after all. But the pain doesn't come.
Agonizingly slow moments pass before she hears Al hit the ground behind her. Her eyes widen in horror as she whips around to see Al clutching his side, his face scrunched in terrible pain. A horrified scream rips itself from her lungs as she takes one step toward him before realizing the very real danger in turning her back on PT.
Blam.
A second gunshot is nearly deafening as they approach a short, chubby man with a bad crew cut dressed in black facing two figures lying in the dirt. Gerald is the first to find his feet after the disorienting sound of gunfire from so close, and in six long strides he's on the short, chubby man's back, wrestling a gun away from him.
"Al!" Rubén's voice sounds strange. "Al, buddy— Oh no…"
Finch and Jim rush forward and Finch flings himself at the man that Gerald is struggling with. Together they bring him down, sending a gun skidding across the dirt before hitting a tree trunk and going off a third time.
Blam.
Everything is very quiet after that third gunshot.