"Sydney get in touch with Devlin and let him know what happened. He'll need to send a clean-up crew." As the truck hit a particularly nasty bump in the road, Jack surrendered to unconsciousness.
"Dad, what about you? Where are you hurt?" When he didn't answer, Sydney looked over at him. His eyes were shut and his breathing was shallow and ragged.
"Dad?"
"Dad?"
When she didn't receive a reply, she started looking for a place to park. She was surprised to see that she had driven to campus. Pulling into one of the parking lots, she stopped the truck. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she turned toward Jack. His face was pale and covered with a light sheen of sweat. Placing her hand on his forehead, she frowned. He was feverish to the touch. Opening his coat and shirt, she examined his shoulder. Blood trickled out of an angry, red bullet hole. Leaning him forward slightly, she searched for an exit wound. There wasn't one. Leaning him back against the seat, she sighed. She pulled her first aid kit out from under the seat and cleaned and bandaged his shoulder as best she could.
Picking up her cell phone, she called the emergency number Vaughn had given her. When the duty officer answered she made arrangements for Vaughn and Devlin to meet her at the warehouse and for them to bring a doctor.
Pulling out of the parking lot, Sydney drove to the warehouse. She periodically checked to make sure she wasn't being followed. She also checked on Jack. During the ride, he stirred feverishly and groaned whenever she hit a rough patch in the road, but he didn't regain consciousness.
