Minutes later Amy and Evan exited too, leaving the motel out a side entrance. Amy, jitters making her weary after the day she had had, got into the passenger seat of Evan's truck, grateful to not have to drive herself. She turned to him as he started up the engine. "I need to pick up my car…I left it at the office," she reminded him as they drove away. Nodding, he steered them in the direction of the Homicide building slowly, as they made their way through the peak hour traffic.
By the time they got there it was well after 7:30pm, and Amy was dragging her body along the pavement more wearily than ever. Evan walked beside her as they headed towards her car, parked in the far corner of the lot. As they approached where her car sat quietly Evan became aware of a faint scuffling behind them, but when he looked at Amy and saw that she hadn't noticed, he dismissed it and went back to walking along silently.
But when a bullet skimmed past his shoulder and narrowly missed hitting them both, he instantly knew that he wasn't wrong in thinking he had heard something. Diving for cover behind the few vehicles left in the parking lot, his chest hit the gravel ground with a hard thump that came close to winding him. His cheek scraping the ground, he looked up for a fleeting moment to see where Amy was because in the dire second that had lingered after the bullet had passed, he hadn't seen her dive for cover like he had.
Amy still remained standing, almost frozen with fear and unable to put her reactions into gear to save herself. It took her several seconds to realise she was being shot at and in those seconds the unthinkable seemed to happen and turning around to face the shooter, she couldn't quite believe that Barron had pulled a gun on her, less than 4 metres from where she stood. It was the last thing she had been expecting and her weary mind, coupled with her weary body didn't even think to hit the ground the way Jonesy had.
So bullets ripped through the air towards her, and several skimmed past her cheek, at least three in quick succession so close to the side of her face that she could feel the heat of the speed of the bullets as they zinged past her. It was the closest she'd ever been to the receiving end of a gunshot and it scared the shit out of her.
So close did the bullets come to her frozen composure that they deafened her instantly, and she didn't even hear Barron's pistol fire its last bullet. The bullet that came in contact with its target. Amy hadn't heard the gunshot, and so only realised it had been let off when she felt the stabbing pain in her arm, just below the elbow. It was then that her knees buckled underneath her and she crumbled to the ground in the first streaks of nighttime. She fell heavily onto the side of her car, banging the side of her head on the way down and clutching her arm in a daze. Across from her, sheltering under another car, Evan looked at her, panic stricken, but unable to move until he heard a set of tyres squeal out of the carpark and disappear into the night air.
He clambered over to Amy and put his hand over hers as it gripped her bleeding arm. She stared at him, shocked and afraid, and still not fully comprehending that he had pulled a gun and shot at her in an effort to get rid of someone else who knew too much. Tears that she didn't know she had slithered down her face silently as the pain began to pick its way through her body and she slumped further against the car.
"Amy Amy," Evan prompted pulling her gently back up to sitting. "Stay with me, sit up. Sit up mate." Her eyes fluttered as her hand began to fall away from holding her arm, the energy suddenly evaporating from her body. He held her against him as she slipped into unconsciousness, despite only having a minor wound. He worried that her state of stress had contributed to her being shot and succumbing so easily to a wound that wouldn't usually affect someone so greatly.