Chapter 36
The missing panel in the fiberglass ceiling of the med bay blurred in Shepard's vision as she tried to catch her breath. Her right arm couldn't take the strain of lowering herself gently. She should have known that. No medigel, no biotics, she wasn't used to this.
She rolled over with a groan and grabbed her gun. She groped at the metal exam table and pulled herself up on unsteady legs. The med bay stood empty. Something caught the corner of her eye. She ducked. An armed man stood beyond the bullet-shattered med bay window. He pointed a rifle down the corridor at the weapon system's core. He fired a shot and yelled something. There didn't appear to be anyone else. The others must have rushed off somewhere, maybe to the bridge.
She slunk over to shattered glass window. She slammed the butt of her pistol into a section of jagged glass, and hunched down. She pressed her back the wall turned her face up waiting. The firing cut off. Footsteps neared, and she tensed, muscles coiling. A shadow fell across the floor. She sprang up. The station soldier's eyes widened through the helmet's visor. His rifle lifted as she thrust her pistol over the broken glass. She fired point blank into his helmet. His shield snapped out, helmet cracking as he stumbled back. The second shot dropped him. Shepard drew her arm carefully back through the window. Blood dripped down her fingertips from a long cut put to her elbow. Getting so shaky and left handed, point blank needed to be her tactic.
No one else came running to the gunshots, and Shepard backed away from the window turning to the cupboard. She threw open doors peering onto each shelf. Her breath came out slowly with a smile. She scooped down all the medigel she could find. Prefilled autoinjectors, perfect, but there were so few. She tore a cap off with her mouth and stabbed it into her arm. Numbness burned up her arm, and she clenched her breath as an icy tautness strained across her skin. Blood slowed into an oozed and a translucent skin formed over the pulpy red hole in her shoulder. An icy ache replaced the sharp throbbing. Her hip and her head barely hurt. She could breathe again. She flexed her right hand and with only a slight cringe.
She scooped up the rest of the medigel. Shepard rushed out the bed bay doors and tripped to her knees. She clutched the medigel injectors tighter and stumbled back to her feet. She glanced down and her spine stiffened. Dr. Chakwas's eyes stared wide open and unseeing. A pistol lay next to her open hand. Shepard stumbled back heart pounding in her throat. She couldn't think about this now. Crumpled forms lay throughout the mess hall. Shots rang mutely from both above or below. She needed to focus on the living.
The weapon's core door stood closed and marked with gunshot holes. Good, they just needed to stay there. She turned and rushed around the corner to the elevator. Her eyes caught open doorway to the crew bunks. A pair of turien legs lay halfway in the hall. Dread twisted her stomach as it drew her forward. Among the bunks, dead humans and turiens lay over each other on a bullet-holed floor awash in red and blue blood. Shepard reeled back sick.
"Shepard."
She snapped her head around to the lounge at the other end of the hall. Granger slumped on the floor against the door to the lounge holding his side. Shepard ran sliding down by his side. She tore the medigel's cap off with her teeth, spitting it away, and stabbed the needle into Granger's side. He squeezed his eyes shut with a hiss.
"Is anyone else alive?" Shepard asked.
"Think so, but hurt. Hurt bad. Sounded like some in the observation deck. Some in the mess hall hid in the weapon's core, I think. No one was armed. Most of us were sleeping. We didn't expect—"
"Later. Here."
Shepard dumped the medigel injectors into Granger's lap and stood.
"Can you walk?" she asked.
Granger's face relaxed. The medigel must be working.
"I think so," he said.
"Okay. Go around. Help the others—"
Shepard cut off. The elevator rumbled to a stop at their floor.
"Stay still," she whispered.
She dashed over and pressed her back against the wall next to the elevator. The doors slid open. A voice spoke as if into a comm.
"On the crew deck now. Starting—"
Shepard swung around the corner and fired three shots. It wasn't great aim, but two hit. The station soldier clutched his arm as his rifle rattled on the elevator floor. He stared up wide eyed through the Plexiglass of his helmet.
He yelled into his comm. "It's Shep—"
Shepard pulled the trigger again and again. He slammed into the back of the elevator, holes gushing blood from his helmet, and slid to the floor. Shepard caught the doors from closing. Granger swayed standing against the wall.
"You're getting company. Find everyone you can. Barricade yourselves in the observation deck."
"Aye, aye," Granger said.
A huge window hopefully meant less chance of unrestrained gunfire or grenades. The glass was nearly as resistant as the ship's hull, but they probably didn't know that. She hoped they didn't have grenades, but they'd gotten rifles, they were in the armory.
Shepard stepped into the elevator. They definitely commandeered the elevator, but now she'd gotten on fair and square. She hesitated over the floor button. The low booms of gunfire too close to be the shuttle bay. She pushed for engineering. Her foot nudged against the attacker's rifle. Her pistol's storage compacting function wasn't working, so she jammed it into the back of her waist band and picked up the rifle. The elevator stopped.