"Well that was a bust," Dani sighed, leading Malcolm out of the patient's room. The hospital ticked and whirred, chatter bubbling around them in a sonic cocoon. The hall was crowded, the uptick in flu cases wearing on the staff.
"At least we tried," Malcolm said bracingly. "Plus I got a few titbits for my profile." At the end of the corridor, the elevator dinged open.
Dani stopped and threw him a raised eyebrow. "Seriously? All he did was –"
Malcolm spotted the man stepping out of the elevator out of the corner of his eye. There was nothing special about him, just a middle-aged guy with salt and pepper hair and a slight limp, but for some reason his attention was drawn to him.
Which is how he saw the AK47 raise from beneath the man's overcoat. The muzzle flashed, gunshots quickly drowned by screams. Dani turned away from him, one hand reaching for the gun at her hip, but even as Malcolm reached out for her, she jerked backwards, thumping into his chest.
"DANI!"
He caught her against him, trying to see where she was hit. He glanced up, taking in the panic in the hall, the shooter slowly advancing, turning his gun on the rooms. He could lie Dani down, take her gun, and try and take down the shooter, or he could get Dani to safety and call Gil.
Indecision paralysed him for two tense heartbeats. Then Dani's pained gasp reached his ears and he saw blood drip to the floor.
"Hold on," he whispered, ducking down to hook an arm under her legs and cradle her against his chest. Keeping low he turned back down the hall, heading for the stairwell. He shouldered it open and raced up a flight before gently lowering Dani on the landing, kneeling beside her.
"Oh shit."
Her breath hitched and she looked up at him through a haze of pain. He smiled for her, quelling his own panic. She'd been shot in the stomach, just below the ribs, and her shirt was already soaked in red.
"How bad?" she gasped, hands pressing into the wound.
Malcolm hummed as he pulled off his tie and wrapped it around his fingers into a pad.
"I mean, it's a gunshot wound, so not great. But not bad either."
Dani groaned as he pressed the tie against the wound, placing her hand over it.
"Actually," he added cheerily, keeping the lie out of his voice, "looks like you got shot in the same place I got stabbed, so, that's good. I mean, it's unlikely it hit any major organs so it's just blood loss we've gotta worry about."
"Oh, great." Pain spasmed across her face and Malcolm's heart shuddered. "Did you see the shooter?"
He nodded, keeping his hands over hers. Her blood was warm and slick, joining them.
"Okay. Listen." Her voice shook with pain but her gaze was steady as ever. "You need to take my gun and go take him down, okay?"
Malcolm shook his head. "No. No way. I'm not leaving you, Dani."
"Bright," she growled, doubling over on herself under a fresh wave. "Don't argue with me."
"First of all, you're always telling me to wait for backup, so telling me to take on a shooter with an automatic weapon alone is kind of a mixed message. Second," he added, ducking down slightly to hold her gaze as she slumped, "I am not about to leave you alone to bleed out."
"'M not gonna – bleed out."
"That's right. Because I'm staying. Now, just – gimme a minute to think."
The rattle of gunfire abruptly stopped. They both looked up, listening.
"That's either really good or really bad."
Dani snorted.
Both their hands were crimson now, and the blood wasn't slowing. Dani's breathing was shallow and sharp. Her fingers trembled under his. She needed medical attention. Now.
Good news was, they were in a hospital. Everything they needed was right there, including trained surgeons with steady hands who could take the bullet out and stitch her up so well she mightn't even scar too badly.
Bad news was, there was an active shooter. Meaning the whole hospital would be on lockdown for god knew how long until the man was neutralised, and that could take hours. There could be hostages. Multiple gunmen.
Which meant that, realistically, Dani's best chance was to get out of here and into an ambulance. But with the bleeding this bad, moving her was the worst thing he could do.
Which left one really stupid option.
"Okay, I've got an idea. I'm gonna call Gil and you're gonna stay on the line with him while I run for supplies, okay? We're gonna stop the bleeding."
Her eyes snapped to his and his heart skipped.
"I'm not leaving you alone," he promised as he reached for his phone. "You're gonna talk to Gil the whole time, and I'll be back in ninety seconds. Okay?"
"The shooter."
He shrugged. "You wanted me to go chase him a minute ago! Honestly, Dani, mixed messages. I'll be fine. I always get out of these situations fine, don't I?"
She huffed a laugh and instantly winced. "Just don't do anything stupid."
"Who, me? Never."
Blood clung to the screen as he tapped into contacts. He held it to his ear as it dialled and squeezed Dani's hand.
"I need you to keep the pressure while I'm gone, okay?"
She nodded, eyes closed, brow furrowed.
"Bright? How'd the interview go?"
"Oh – total bust – Gil, listen. We're in the hospital and there's a shooter. At least one, with an AK47 and I don't know what else. Dani's been hit. I need you to talk to her while I go get something to stop the bleeding."
"You – what? Bright, is Dani –"
"I'm putting you on speaker," Malcolm said, laying the phone on Dani's less bloody side. "I'll be back in two minutes." He smiled at Dani, then turned and bounded up the stairs two at a time.
"Bright! If there's an active shooter you can't –"
"He's gone, Gil," Malcolm heard Dani sigh as he opened the door to the floor above.
The hall was deserted. Nurses' station empty. They all must've run when they'd heard the first bullets fly. Even the beds were empty. Judging by the machines he could spy through the windows, this wasn't a critical ward.
He moved slowly, placing each foot with care so his shoes wouldn't squeak. It all seemed quiet. Empty. He edged along the corridor to a supply closet. The handle clacked to a halt before he'd pressed it fully.
"Damn it."
He padded back to the nurses' station and ducked behind it. There was no sign of keys among the abandoned files and coffee cups. But there was a plastic cup full of paperclips. Malcolm smiled and grabbed two. He hadn't had a chance to pick a lock in months.
He unbent the clips and inserted them into the lock, gripping tightly to compensate for the blood staining his fingers. A few moments of twisting and the lock clacked open.
"Ta-da!" he whispered to himself.
Malcolm slipped inside and flicked on the light. What did he need? Gauze. Suture kit. Antibacterial wipes. He piled everything into an empty tray and headed back to the stairwell. The silence was a pressure on his spine, a presence about to crash over them. Had the shooter been taken down? Was he on the move?
More gunshots bit through the stillness. Coming from above him, not below.
The pool of blood under Dani was half a foot wide. Her head was hanging, chin on her chest, eyes closed. Malcolm swallowed hard at the sight and forced himself to smile. He knelt in front of her, putting the tray by his thigh.
"Hey, how you doing?" He put a hand on her cheek, nudging gently. She mumbled something he didn't catch.
"Bright? You there?"
"Yeah Gil, I'm here. How long's she been out?"
"Just a few seconds. How's she looking?"
Dani blinked up at him and he beamed.
"Beautiful as ever. Little pale though," he added fairly. Dani smiled weakly and some of the tension pooling in his gut eased slightly.
"The ... the shooter?" she mumbled.
"Above us."
"Talk to me, Bright. How's our girl?"
Malcolm helped Dani sit up a little straighter.
"Still tougher than both of us. I'm gonna stitch up the wound."
Dani's eyebrows raised. "You're what now?"
"It's okay," he said quickly. "I know how."
"Bright, is that really –"
"She's losing too much blood," he almost snapped at the phone. "And we don't know when we're getting out of here. What's happening on your end anyway?"
Malcolm reached for the suture kit as Gil spoke, readying a needle.
"JT and I are outside with ESU. SWAT's evaluating, waiting for the green light to go in. It's gonna be a while. We're still trying to ID the shooter."
"Okay, well, keep us informed." He shifted his position, inching closer to Dani. "I'm gonna need to pull up your shirt a bit, okay?"
She nodded, moving the tie and hitching it up herself, wincing as the fabric pulled on congealing blood. Malcolm let out a low whistle and looked up at her.
"That's nasty. But never fear! I am gonna make it look like a teeny scratch."
"You really know how to stitch?" she sighed, eying him doubtfully.
"Uh-huh. Had to, uh, stitch myself up once. It wasn't a big deal," he lied quickly, shaking his head and not looking at her.
"Just don't make me look like Frankenstein's monster."
He huffed a laugh. "Can do."
"Be careful, Bright."
Malcolm met Dani's eyes and rolled his, mouthing mother hen. Dani grinned.
"Okay, here we go." He carefully wiped the worst of the blood away with a wipe, keeping up a steady stream of apologies as Dani hissed at the pressure. Next he took what he was pretty sure was a local anaesthetic pen and gave her four injections around the sight. He wiped his hands free of the blood and picked up the threaded needle. He was out of distractions.
"Okay, this might still sting but I need you to stay still for me, alright?"
Dani nodded. "Just be quick."
"You got it."
He took a breath, willing his hand not to shake, and leaned in. Biting his lip, he pinched the sides of the wound with one hand and worked the needle under her skin with the other. Dani tensed, breath hissing through gritted teeth, but she kept still. Malcolm worked quickly, looping the thread and pulling it tight before snipping it and starting the next one. Muted sounds of traffic and many voices fighting over each other warbled up at them from the phone. Gil's muffled voice gave someone an order.
"How's it looking up there?"
"Bright's – in the z-zone," Dani said, aiming for a teasing tone and almost making it. "Two st-stitches down."
"Keep it up, Bright. Dani, you just keep breathing for me, you hear me? Nice and slow."
"Copy, boss."
"Y'know, medical stitches go back as far as Ancient Greece?" Malcolm said conversationally as he started the next one. He glanced up at Dani, keeping his expression devoid of the anxiety chewing on his lungs. "Hippocrates – who, by the way, is the origin of the Hippocratic oath, fun fact – described suture techniques in his work. And Abulcasis developed the catgut suture and surgery needle in the tenth century."
"Bright?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and stitch."
"Yes ma'am."
He worked in silence save their breathing and the tinny sounds of the outside world echoing from the phone. Two stitches later, the wound was almost closed and the bleeding slowed to a trickle. It wasn't neat work, but it would do until he got Dani to someone better.
His phone warbled a warning.
"What was that?"
Malcolm glanced at it and sighed. "Crap. Battery's dying." He turned to Dani. "Where's yours?"
"Charging in the car."
"Great. Gil, we're gonna lose you. Have a bus standing by for when I get Dani out of here, yeah?"
"You got it. And Bright, take care of our girl. Dani? Don't let Bright do anything stupid."
Dani snorted. "I don't have that – that kind of power even when I'm not sh-shot."
Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. "I can hear you."
"Take care of each other. Don't take any risks. Leave the shooter to SWAT. And hey, don't –"
The phone bleeped into silence. Malcolm tapped the screen. Nothing.
"Well," he said cheerily, "so much for the cavalry. You're good by the way."
Dani peered down at his handiwork, taking a slow breath as the movement pulled on the stitches.
"Not bad, Bright. Where'd you learn how – how to do that?"
"YouTube."
"Why?"
He avoided her gaze, reaching for the wipes and gauze to wrap the wound. Now wasn't the time to tell her about the time he'd changed his mind after losing a pint of blood in his bathroom in college. He doubted there'd ever be a time for that.
Instead, he shrugged a shoulder. "Curiosity. I also know how to crochet and bake crème brulé." He flashed her a smile as he taped the gauze down. "So if you ever need a flowery tea cosy I'm your guy. And there! You're good as new. Ish."
The distinct pops of gunfire shattered Dani's answering smile. They both looked up, Malcolm inching closer. Someone on a floor above screamed, the sound cut off by another bass pop.
"We can't just sit here," Dani sighed, putting a bloody hand over the gauze. Malcolm took in her expression and recognised it. It was the same one he wore before slapping a hand on a landmine or stepping into the line of a gun.
"I know." He itched to leave. To run through the hospital until he found the shooter and talked him down or died trying. All the people, doctors, nurses, patients, they were dying right now because he wasn't moving. How many would be left with PTSD, a weighted spectre that could crush you without trying?
Dani was more important. He wasn't about to jeopardise her safety, not when it was up to him. If all he did today was get her out of here in one piece, then that'll have to be enough.
"But we can't."
A couple more scattered gunshots cracked overhead. Malcolm shifted, scooting in to sit beside Dani, shoulders touching.
"We need to do what Gil told us. Just this once," he added quickly, raising a clarifying finger.
"Never thought I'd hear you say that."
He shrugged. "Yeah, well, every now and then it's good to mix things up a bit. Keep him on his toes."
Dani chuckled. She listed sideways, head falling on his shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Tired," she mumbled.
"How's the pain? I can go for painkillers if you want."
She shook her head against him. "Just ... talk to me."
He reached for her hand and held it in his on his thigh. Adjusted his grip so he could feel her heartbeat through his fingertips. Tried not to worry that her words were slurring.
"About what?"
She hummed. "Don't care." A pause. "Tell me about Sunshine."
"Sunshine?"
"Yeah. Why'd you call her that? 'Cause she's ye-yellow?"
He snorted. "How unimaginative do you think I am? No, not because she's yellow."
"Why then?"
He took a deep breath, wondering if he had the courage to say it. He grabbed a wipe and brought his other hand to their joined ones and started cleaning the blood from her skin. After another breath, he tried.
"She's named after a song. Walking on Sunshine."
Dani laughed – cutting off quickly with a hiss.
"Yeah, hope that hurt."
"Didn't take you for a ... pop guy."
He chuckled. "I could surprise you. But no, it's not that. When I was a kid, I'd go over to Gil's place sometimes." He cleared the knot from his throat. "And Jackie, Gil's wife – did you ever meet her?"
Dani shook her head. "Only been on the t-team two and a half years."
"You would've liked her," he said softly. "She was the kindest person I've ever met. So funny, too, I can't tell you how many times I almost passed out from laughing so hard. And that was when I –" couldn't speak – "when I was in a bad way. But anyway," he said briskly, wrenching his mind back to the point. "She used to sing that song all the time. Like, all the time. Drove Gil insane one day, then he'd sing right along with her the next. And sometimes, after we'd been baking or hell, during commercials, she'd take my hands and dance me around the kitchen, singing like she was on Broadway."
He dumped the now pink wipe aside and returned his fingers to Dani's, idly tracing their shape as memory bloomed soft and warm in his chest.
"At some point she started calling me sunshine," he almost whispered, pressure burning under his eyes. "Gil calls me kid, Jackie called me sunshine. And she'd sing that song and get us dancing whenever I was too stuck in my own head." He darted a hand to his face, wiping a rogue tear before returning. Dani squeezed gently, holding the pressure for a few compassionate moments.
"So when I got Sunshine," he said, his voice steadier, "I wanted her to be a reminder of the good things, you know? It was kind of a big move for me, having this tiny little life dependent on me. Especially since I'm not always, y'know, brilliant and taking care of myself." He kept his voice light, tone almost joking. "I wanted to do it right. So I named her after one of my best memories. Me, Gil, and Jackie, dancing around their tiny kitchen."
Dani didn't say anything for a long moment. Malcolm clenched his jaw, hoping he hadn't said too much. He thought it was a nice enough story, but maybe –
"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard," she said quietly, her words a little clearer than before. "I'm glad you got to have that. With them."
"Me too."
"Gil really means a lot to you, huh?"
He nodded. "More than I can ever tell him, yeah."
Silence fell between them and Malcolm had time to wonder where the shooter was. Barely heard shouts echoed on the floors above, a muted crash closer by. The shooter clearly wasn't vying for a high body count, attacking as intermittently as they were. Most terrorists aimed for sustained carnage. Unless he'd been taken down by the staff. Or maybe he was after something specific, something that tied him to this hospital. Death in the family would make sense, blaming the medical staff he judged as failures. Which made this a vengeance slaughter, not an act of terror, although –
"Could," Dani said slowly, "could you sing to me?"
Malcolm blinked. "What?"
"That song." Another gunshot cracked dimly. "Sing to me?"
He smiled to himself, shifting slightly against her to straighten his back. "Um, okay." He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. "I used to think may-be you loved me," he sang softly, "now baby I'm su-ure."
Dani hummed, impressed. "You've been holding out on us, Bright."
Malcolm sang on, glad she couldn't see him blush. "And I just can't wait till the day when you knock on my do-or."
Another gunshot. Sounded closer than before. He sang a little louder.
"Now every time I go for the mail-box, gotta hold myself do-own,
"'Cause I just can't wait 'til you write me you're co-min' aro-ound –"
He bumped Dani's shoulder, beaming down at her as he reached the chorus.
"I'm walking on sun-shine – who-oa!"
Dani giggled softly as he reached for the notes.
"I'm walking on sun-shine – who-oa!"
He threw his head back, lifting their hands in a parody of dance.
"I'm walking on sun-shine – who-oa! And don't it feel good!"
Dani shook gently against him and he laughed, squeezing her hand.
"Okay, okay, that's enough. It's not really in my register." He waited for her to quip
back.
She didn't.
"Dani?"
She was still shaking. But the quick, shallow pants didn't sound like laughter. Malcolm put his hand to her cheek, tilting her head to see her face. Her eyes were closed, brow pinched. He shook her.
"Dani? Dani!"
Her frown deepened. A soft moan slipped past her lips – along with a thin trail of blood.
"Shit. Dani, Dani stay with me, stay with me."
He moved two fingers to her neck. Her pulse was fast. Too fast. She could be bleeding internally, might have ruptured organs. He'd been an idiot. They couldn't wait this out. He needed to get her out of here.
Now.
He slipped one arm under her shoulders, the other behind her knees and lifted her up, cradling her against his chest.
"Come on, Dani. I've got you."
The stairwell was still quiet. Holding Dani close, he made his way down the three flights to the ground floor. By the time he reached the final landing Dani was still. She even stirred slightly against his shoulder. He hesitated, looking down at her.
"Dani?"
"Wha's going on?"
The slurring was much worse. Malcolm swallowed his trepidation and kept his tone light.
"I think it's time you're discharged."
She blinked up at him, frowning against the pain that curled her arm around her abdomen.
"You crazy? The shooter."
He beamed down at her, turning to push open the door to the ground floor.
"He's upstairs. None of the shots we heard were this far down. We're gonna be fine."
She shifted against him, putting a bloodstained hand to his white shirt.
"Bright. Stop."
"It's gonna be okay, Dani."
"No, he could – know if – if people try to, to leave."
He ducked through the door, careful of Dani's head.
"Let me worry about that. You just breathe, okay?"
"Gil told me not to ... somethin' stupid."
He huffed a laugh. "Well I won't tell if you won't."
She mumbled something he didn't catch but sounded snarky. He hefted her in his arms and she groaned.
"Sorry."
The corridor was completely empty. IV poles lay felled, carts overturned, the reception covered in discarded papers. A swivel chair lay on its side. Further down, lines of plastic chairs stood empty, accenting the alien atmosphere of the scene. Hospitals were never this quiet. This still. It was creepier than the halls of his old boarding school past midnight.
He stepped carefully around the debris left by fleeing people, trying to peer through the revolving door to the mass of black-clad bodies just visible on the road. Gil was out there somewhere, with an ambulance prepped and ready.
They passed the abandoned reception, their corridor connecting to another running perpendicularly to theirs. Malcolm glanced down its darkened length and froze.
A man leant against the wall, shrouded in shadow by the lights kept inactive by his stillness. An assault rifle mirrored his posture at his feet, its silhouette stark and deadly.
It was maybe six steps to cross the width of the corridor, another ten max to get outside, to safety. If the shooter didn't see them, they were clear.
The lights flickered on.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Malcolm halted mid-step, still facing their escape route.
"Dani," he whispered tensely, "play dead."
"Hey! I'm talking to you."
Not checking to see if she was conscious to hear his command, Malcolm turned slowly to face the shooter. He'd left the rifle by the wall, but a handgun was already pointed right at them.
Malcolm flicked into profiler mode, ignoring his fear as his hands shook where they held Dani.
"Sorry, I thought I'd just take my friend here to Starbucks," he said casually. "Coffee here sucks."
The shooter took a step forward. It wasn't the man he'd seen on the third floor. This one was younger, much younger, but his cheekbones and nose heralded him as a relation. Son, most likely.
Family revenge shooting?
"Funny," the man said, not sounding like he appreciated the humour at all. "But in case you haven't noticed, we're in sort of a lockdown situation here. But hey, I'm feeling generous. You can take your girl upstairs to where the fun is, or I can kill you right here."
"Tempting options," Malcolm stalled. "But let me ask you this; why'd you let your dad bring you with him today? Seems like a big risk for someone so young."
He cocked the handgun.
"What I mean is," Malcolm said quickly, mind racing, "why are you stuck here, at the entrance? Seems kinda boring to me – at least until they send SWAT in, and then it's almost like he wants you to get shot, almost as if –"
The gunshot barked, too loud in the confined space, echoing grossly off the walls. Malcolm fell, shoulders and head hitting the floor before he'd fully processed the sound. Dani's weight forced any lingering air from him and he blinked at the ceiling, dazed.
"You talk too much."
He heard the unmistakable clatter of a hammer priming.
Get up, he willed himself. Do something!
He raised his head. Blood bloomed hot and thick on his chest. The shooter walked calmly closer, gun held aloft. Malcolm tried to speak but blood coughed out instead and the pain shock shielded him from arrived like a punch. It seared into him, fangs biting deep, turning the oxygen in his lungs to smoke. He rasped for breath but nothing came, and the shooter was almost to them and Dani was slumped over him, unmoving and Malcolm begged the ether that she was only playing dead. He tried to lift his arm, the one furthest from the rapidly spreading tide of blood, to feel her pulse but it flopped back to the floor as another surge of blinding pain made the world tilt and warp.
The shooter stopped at his feet, looking down at them with obvious relish. Malcolm found his voice.
"Why –" A spurt of copper stifled the rest.
The man lowered his gun, aiming right between Malcolm's eyes.
Think, think! MOVE!
"You wouldn't understand. Doctors are agents of Satan, here to capture souls for his army. The Good Lord chose my family to stop them. And we will. One cesspool at a time."
Malcolm watched the man's finger move to the trigger. Something pressed into his abdomen and a gunshot split the air. He flinched.
The shooter thumped to the ground, blood oozing from the side of his head. Malcolm blinked. Dani was propped on one arm, the other raised and steady, her gun still aimed where the shooter had been about to kill him.
For a moment, everything was still. Then Dani heaved and a waterfall of blood slid over her lips and she pitched forward, falling on Malcolm. Heat flared in his chest and he gasped, bucking in a vain attempt to stifle the pain. It took him several false attempts to coax in a decent lungful of air.
"Dani!" he gasped, bullying his arm into reaching for her face.
"'M good," she mumbled, more blood following the words. "You?"
"I – I'm good," he panted, not sure if he was lying or not. He tensed his shoulders, forcing himself to sit up. He groaned, but with air came tolerance and the pain wasn't firing quite as frantically now. He looked down at himself, forcing deep breaths to quell the panic curling in his gut.
The bullet had hit below his clavicle on the left side of his chest. Two inches lower and he'd be dead with a leaden heart. As it was, his lung might be compromised. Despite his heaving chest, dizziness was swimming through his mind.
Dani moaned, low and grunting. Malcolm threaded an arm under her shoulders and heaved her into a sitting position. Her forehead met his, both leaning into the other and breathing raggedly.
"Gotta ... get you outta here," he sighed, blinking past the pain.
She shook her head gently.
"Jus' go, Bright."
He almost laughed. Snaked his other, far less cooperative arm under her legs.
"Not leaving you, Dani."
Taking as deep a breath as he could bear, he rocked himself forward, lifting Dani and getting his knees under him. A low, grating cry rattled out of him as his chest exploded, raging at the strain. But he ignored it. Took a breath. Staggered to his feet.
Shock was still on his side. His body hadn't fully caught up to the trauma yet. As long as he got outside, got to Gil, they'd both be okay. It was just ten steps. Just ten.
The first felt like it should kill him.
The second was worse.
He drew his mind from his body, focusing solely on breathing and forcing himself to drag one foot in front of the other. His arms screamed, his left shaking viciously under Dani's weight. Her head had fallen from his shoulder, hanging lose as she lost consciousness, hair swaying with every step. There was blood on her neck. Dried.
He couldn't tell if she was breathing.
The revolving door worked as though nothing dramatic had happened that day, as though there was no trauma or fanfare that could surprise it. Malcolm got too close to the window and it jerked to a halt for a moment, forcing him to take two extra steps.
It didn't feel like he was breathing anymore. But he supposed he must be. Couldn't feel it past the inferno blazing in his chest.
How had Dani lasted so long? Getting shot hurt.
He'd have to decide later if it was worse than getting stabbed.
Fresh air greeted him like an old friend, caressing his sweat-beaded forehead like it had missed him. He knew he took a breath then because the tang of blood was cut by a crisp coolness that tickled his tongue playfully.
He was dimly aware of people aiming guns at him. Voices shouted things that were probably words but he wasn't sure. He just kept moving. A stair he didn't see caught him off guard and he stumbled, falling hard to his knees and he stayed there, head bowed over Dani, hoping he'd made it far enough. He could tell things were happening around him but it wasn't registering. Was that SWAT going in?
"Dani?" he mumbled, blood dripping from his lips. He hugged her closer, letting her legs fall as his arm gave out. "Dani?"
Someone appeared in front of him. A hand slipped onto his neck, squeezing. He smiled. Forced his head to raise.
Gil was speaking. Tightly controlled fear darkened his gaze. He shook him, brow furrowing and Malcolm nodded, not knowing what he'd said.
"Dani," he managed. "Take her."
Gil caught her, turning briefly away and suddenly JT was there, scooping her up like she weighed nothing. He said something too but the words were loud and round. Malcolm shook his head, swaying. Gil's hand steadied him. He blinked hard, bullying his mind into working.
"Is she alive?"
JT leant down, ear to her lips. Malcolm watched, everything stopping.
"She's breathing. She's breathing."
Air slipped out of him and Malcolm sagged, utterly deflated. His head bumped gently into Gil's shoulder and the rest of the world came crashing back, voices shouting, mumbling, walking around in an aura of controlled panic. Gil's other hand pressed into his wound and he groaned.
"Gil," he muttered, hoping he was audible.
"I'm here, Bright. EMTs are getting a board, they'll have you in thirty seconds."
"Tha's good. Hey Gil?"
"Yeah, kid?"
"There're two shooters. At least. One's dead. Religious. Radical. Think doctors are ... are stealing souls. Gonna need a ... a profiler."
Gil snorted. "Well I'll call in someone else 'cause mine is taking the rest of the day off."
Malcolm frowned against his shoulder. "No fair."
"Bright. You're bleeding from your chest. You're done working today."
He grumbled incoherently, only realising then his eyes were closed. It was oddly comfortable here, with Gil's arm around him. And he felt heavy. It'd be nice to just stay here awhile. Let someone else deal with the mess behind him. He could help later.
"Need a painkiller," he mumbled grouchily.
Gil laughed. "Yeah I bet you do. Hey, EMTs are here. We're gonna lie you down, okay?"
"No. Comfy."
"I somehow doubt that."
The hand on his neck gripped tighter, others appearing on his shoulders, bracing his back. He tilted, head spinning, then something rigid pressed against his shoulders and his legs were straightened. The pressure left his chest. Straps tightened around him.
"Gil?"
"I'm right here kid," came his voice.
"Stay with Dani. She got shot."
"You got shot too, kid."
He frowned. "Yeah but she, she got shot first. She wins."
Someone chuckled.
"I'll be sure to tell her that."
"Make sure they give her the, lime jello. She likes lime."
"Will do, Bright. You just rest now, okay?"
"'Kay."
Everything tilted as he was lifted up and dumped onto something higher. Then vibrations rattled against his back and he knew they were moving. He tried opening his eyes but the unrelenting brightness quickly quashed that idea. Everything shuddered, then a jolt whipped through him, making him wince. Plastic pressed into his face and he frowned as artificial air flowed over his tongue. He tried to lift a hand to remove it but one of the straps stopped him. A siren screeched into the air. An engine rumbled somewhere above him.
A prick stung his elbow. Something cool swept through him, quenching the flames in his chest and he breathed a deep, easy breath, sinking into the hard board.
Maybe Gil was right. He could take a half day.
With a grateful sigh he let himself slip into nothingness.