Loss 2/7


Chapter Two:

The shot ripped through the flimsy door, shattering it. Terry felt herself pushed back by the force of the blast, landing hard on the concrete walkway. Her consciousness wavered for a moment but she saw a man flee from the house, shotgun in hand, and run past her down the street.

It occurred to her that she should be in great pain but instead she felt almost disconnected from her body...disconnected from her breath...

She lowered a hand to her left side and it came back covered in blood. 'That's not good...' she thought. Already in shock, she was incapable of true coherent thought.

Something did get through to her though. She remembered she'd not been alone. She let her head fall to the left and she saw Don laying next to her on the walkway.

"Don..." His white dress shirt was shredded and his torso was covered in blood. He wasn't moving and even though they were only a few inches apart, Terry couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.

Terry struggled to stay alert enough to pull out her cell phone. "Two FBI agents down..." she managed to mumble into the phone. "Need ambulance... Shooter Horace Wilbur escaped... 117 Haller Lane... Hurry..."

The phone slipped from her ear, her hand too weak to hold it any longer.

"Hurry..." she whispered and then could say no more.