Chapter 52
The sound of the gunfire echoed in the room even after the firing stopped, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Before she could sit up, Annie was physically lifted off Michael's lap as Charles pulled her behind him bending over the dark haired agent.
Seeing Amber standing over two shapes on the other side of the room, Annie couldn't bring herself to look down at the bodies. Suddenly cold, she wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself.
Frowning when she touched something wet, Annie pulled her hand out her eyes widening when she realized it was blood. Checking herself quickly, she knew it didn't come from her. Where did it come from? she wondered.
"Michael," Annie whispered, spinning back to the couch.
Posed over Michael on the couch, Charles was pressing his hands to the younger man's shoulder where the material of his shirt was already saturated with blood. His normally tan face was pale as he raised it from the back of the couch to look at her.
"Annie," he reached out to her as Charles shifted slightly out of her way. "It's okay, baby. It looks worse than it really is," he tried to assure her. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb as he gave her a weak smile.
"They've got three ambulances on their way as well as local PD." Mrs. Kersting handed Charles a towel from the kitchen as she gave him this information. "Liz said to tell you she's bringing ERT with her and you're in charge until she gets here."
"Thank you, Mrs. Kersting," Charles threw over his shoulder, but she was already moving away to tend to the others in the room.
"Three ambulances?" Annie murmured when what the other woman said finally registered. "Is someone else hurt?" she questioned panicky as she started to get up but Michael's grip on her hand prevented her.
"One is for Tara and one is for Michael," Charles explained, glancing down at the dark haired agent.
"Okay, then who is the third for?" Annie asked, looking between the two men knowing they were keeping something from her. "Who else was hurt?" she demanded as she grew angry.
"Annie, sweetheart," Michael called, getting her attention regret and worry clouding his face. "It's Craig," he told her his deep green eyes locking with hers.
"Craig?" Annie stammered quietly, her eyes dropping to her clasped hands. "He's still alive," she mumbled more to herself, unsure of what she was feeling. He was going let me and my friends die, but he's still my brother, she thought uncertainly.
"Baby, I'm sorry," Michael apologized with a groan as he tried to shift closer to her. "I didn't want to shoot him," he sighed regretfully.
Annie's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as she realized what he said. Michael shot my brother, she gasped silently, pulling away from him as she turned to walk to the window.