Sorry about the slight delay guys! I have my HSC in like 6 weeks, so I can't update as often as I'd like, but I promise that I will update as soon as possible

Thanks to all you great reviewers -you guys are the best!

Chapter 2 – please review!

With a cry, Charlie jumped to his feet. He forgot about the two men, with their balaclavas and their powerful guns, forgot the danger he was in, forgot he had been ordered to stay face down on the floor. He saw only Don, Don bleeding… but he had only taken two steps towards Don's prone form when the second gunman, the same bastard who had shot Don, fired his gun into the ceiling, with a deafening crash, bellowing "FREEZE!"

Screams echoed from the other hostages, still face down on the floor, and Charlie froze, his arms up, giving Don an agonised glance… he was only metres away.

The gunman advanced on Charlie, the muzzle of his weapon focussed squarely on Charlie's heart. Charlie didn't think he'd ever been more terrified, but his voice, when he spoke, was firm and soothing.

"Please... I just want to get to my brother. That's all, just let me go to him"

The gunman raised his weapon, releasing the safety catch, his mouth shaping into a grotesque smile under the wool of the balaclava.

Charlie's salvation came in the shape of the original gunman, who was now instructing the teller to empty the ATM. He noticed the altercation taking place in front of him, and yelled, "leave it, Steve, you trigger-happy moron! We need to get this done, NOW!" Steve held Charlie's gaze for one more minute, animosity burning in his eyes. Then, in disgust, he spat at Don, before stomping away.

His mind curiously blank, Charlie mechanically walked to Don, knelt – he could scarcely believe it, felt cold and yet his cheeks burned. That guy… Steve… he would have killed him. Charlie knew he had stared death in the face. He had had cause to ponder death before, was aware of his own mortality – hell, his mother had died only a year ago. But death was very different when it was an abstract concept 50 years in the future, to the reality of a bullet in a chamber right in front of you. The thought made him feel slightly sick.

He felt sicker when he looked down at Don. He lay face down on the floor, his eyes closed. His arms and legs were splayed at strange angles, and his right shoulder was a bloody mess of shattered flesh. Charlie's heart sank, when he realised just how much blood there was. The floor was slick with it, and Charlie realised with horror that it was soaking into the knees of his jeans… he could feel it against his skin, cold and wet. Don's shirt was soaked in it. It was everywhere, a slowly spreading pool that advanced across the sterile white marble.

With trembling hands, Charlie placed his shaky fingers against Don's neck, searching for a pulse. For a few seconds he felt nothing, and his stomach, instead of sinking, vanished completely… he suddenly felt icy cold… but then, miraculously, a feeble throb under his hands.

Charlie gave a shuddering sigh, closing his eyes in relief. Don was alive! He hadn't realised how afraid he was, had refused to admit the possibility that nonetheless screamed at him… now he was aware that he was shaking, as the adrenaline, the fear slowly ebbed. Gently, he turned Don over.

What he saw made him want to cry.

A second angry wound, worse than the shoulder wound, blossomed on the left side of Don's chest. The bullet must have passed completely through Don's body, Charlie realised with dismay… he tried not think how many vital organs it must have passed through.

One was clearly obvious. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of Don's mouth, and the wound on Don's chest made a strange, soft, whistling, sucking noise. Don's lung was punctured.

Suddenly, Don gave a cough, and a spatter of red drops stained Charlie's shirt. His eyes flicked open, and gazed at the ceiling.

"Don?" Charlie's voice was barely a whisper, but at its sound Don's wandering gaze fell on Charlie's face. "Don? Its Charlie…"

Charlie was unprepared for the look he saw in Don's eyes. First he saw recognition blossom, relief… then fear. Don gave another cough, and his hand sought Charlie's, gripped it tightly. "It's okay, Don…" Charlie tried to keep the fear out of his voice, forced down the sob that rose in his chest "you'll be okay…" Don's eyes fluttered closed, and his hand went limp in Charlie's.

More to himself than Don, Charlie whispered, "I'll get you out…" He sat cross-legged and dragged Don into his lap, pulling off his own jacket. This he pressed down on Don's wounds, a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. As he did this, he felt something hard pressing into his knee, and pulled it out.

It was Don's mobile phone.

He gave a fearful glance at Steve, and his friend. They had emptied three of the ATMs into black garbage bags and were onto the fourth, their attention focussed. It had been 10 minutes since they entered the bank, and no help had come… Charlie guessed the teller had not tripped the silent alarm, which should alert the police.

With trembling fingers, he dialled:

9 – 1 – 1

P.S. Again, I love reviews! If you have any advice or constructive criticism, I'd love that to, its really helpful to decide how to write the next chapter

Thanks!