The Descent

Chapter 25: Shot

Smoke rose above me, the soothing, sweet smoke. Coming out of my mouth and nose, in my lungs. I took another suck at the cigarette. Better than lollipops. No it's not. Yes, it is. No. Daddy would be furious if he saw me like this. The thought of Daddy made me tender. I could feel it coming on, the tears, and they did. I was Hit-Girl, and I was hiding behind a duct opening, knees up to my chest, and I was crying into my arm. And of course, the tears were bouncing off my tights rather than getting absorbed. I tried to stop, but I couldn't. I couldn't stop sucking at the cigarette, and I could stop tearing up. I need it, I need my smoke. Daddy would be angry but he would understand right? Right? It was hard, but I finally stopped myself from crying. You're Hit-Girl, not some needy little baby looking for a hand-out! I stopped smoking soon after, but only because my cigarette ran out.

I was itching for another, but I had to watch Dave first. When I poked my head out, he was gone. The last time I checked was before my smoke. Mindy, you stupid! Making a run for the edge of the rooftop, I peeked over the edge of the building. A group of superheroes, in all kinds of costume. There was a huge man in army uniform. A girl dressed like some of the girls at my school when they're out milling around, except worst. A man who looks like… Spiderman, the word came to me, although I had no idea who Spiderman was. Two in matching blue jackets and masks, who looked like twins. A man in tight red and white leather. Colors were dancing at the entrance.

I wanted to take the stairs at first, but another idea came to me. Hey asshole (SWEAR), can't use the front door now. The Fire Escape. The layout in my head – I could remember it would take me down to where some of the guards were. It might even be Daddy's original plan, so I took the fire escape down.

Meanwhile…

"You guys ready, team?" Colonel Stars and Stripes said as he regarded us for a second. There were 12 of us at the back entrance. The newest members were missing. I was worried about that. I was always worried about backstabbers and betrayals.

"Wait, wait, where's Ronin and the rest?" I asked, and as I did, I took a look around. Half the faces I saw were masked – All-Seeing Eye, Moonbird, Hacksaw, Insectman (with his new fly mask). The other half were petrified – Miranda Swedlow (I could never get enough of that name), Marty or Battleguy, The Enforcer, Remembering Tommy, The White Atom (as I liked to call Doctor Gravity). I couldn't blame them either. We were up against Chinese gangsters on the fringe at Chinatown, and we were up against street gangsters, but they couldn't be compared to what came next. I could feel myself shaking in my boots almost as much. It'd been a long time since I last came up against anyone to do with the D'Amico crime family.

"They're taking the front entrance." The Colonel explained, giving me a pat on the back, a strong one that would have hurt if I wasn't wearing my vest, "Ronin's taking them in." It meant that Todd was with them too. On Monday, we roped in Todd. It seemed a shame not to get him involved when the two of us were soaking in on the glory. As time went on, he became more and more estranged from us. It was the only way I knew that could bring him back into the loop again. He ordered his costume and got it quickly, and when he put it on for the first time in my room, I knew the reason why. He'd straight up bought it off a cheap store, a wet suit looking almost like mine, except with the colours inverted, largely a gay yellow shade with fat, thick lines of green running in the same direction as the yellow lines on my costume. He'd even christened himself 'Ass-kicker', after a few other tries with similar results. He was derivative, and Marty thought he was an 'Ass-licker', but I decided to let him go on that, before he came storming out of my room or something. I didn't feel like getting a Mojo Jojo on my back – I had plenty of enemies to keep me busy until retirement at 65.

"Urm… Question? Did you say there were 'around' eight of them?" It was Marty's turn. I felt like screaming at him to shut up at first, but before I opened my mouth (thankfully), I began suspecting what he brought up. 'Around 8' was an odd way to phrase things. Colonel Stars and Stripes was a step up the back entrance. He stopped when he heard the question. Rested a leg on the top step, leaning on it, as if thinking about what Marty said. What was there to think about?

"Around eight. You got that right, boy scout." He finally said as he regarded the door before him like an archenemy. Eisenhower sat by the entrance, as if anticipating her master's order, "There's only so much I could do. My friends in blue don't know squat 'bout this place. I was on stake out, and I saw eight men. I didn't go in like the last time. Too risky." The air felt heavier after that, "We'll do fine. There's 19 of us now." 20, including Hit-Girl. In that light, we felt stronger, sure to outnumber Cosimo's men.

"Are we sneaking in this time around, Colonel?" It was the same question as last time. I was still hoping for a yes. Our last tactic weren't exactly the smartest – I was surprised no one was shot. Well, the Colonel himself nearly was. This time around, it definitely wasn't the smartest thing to do. Our last meeting with D'Amico's men would have likely caught the kingpin's attention, and everyone else under him.

"Or are you knocking again?" Miranda chipped in. Our eyes met for a second. Good old fashioned reverse psychology. Miranda's light blue-silvery eyes were beautiful, filled with hope for me to drink in. They reminded me of Mindy, well, what's been going on with Mindy, and how Miranda's the only girl left I could turn to.

"I've got a little something else." The Colonel said, turning to us as he fiddled around with something in his pocket. After a bit, he finally pulled them out. Lockpicking tools, a pick and tension wrench. He seemed too confident to be affected by Nightbitch's reverse psychology. It wasn't needed. The Colonel had plans. "My old buddies. Used to do it when I was a teenager, way into my 20s, and sometimes after that." Admittedly, it was uncharacteristic of the Colonel, having converted to the Born Again movement and repented, and stuff like that. "They must be expecting us. We should walk in and have a chat with them. Saves everyone the trouble."

Back Up…

It was harder than I thought, going down the fire escape. The metal step I took groaned as I put my weight on it. I needed to be quiet. I couldn't rush down like I wanted. Hide and Seek, Mindy, don't get caught or you're it. I went through my plans, rehearsing them, and I remembered more. I remembered singing Christmas carols with Daddy for several months in and around Christmas day, especially when I was very young. We didn't have any friends, and we celebrated Christmas only between ourselves. The Christmas carols were part of my training. They helped me remember things, and while I sang them on the run, they helped me with my breathing and stamina. I remembered singing Christmas carols even when I was fishing with Daddy. It helped calm me down – I was younger and scared back then – and the guineas we took down were afraid of our Christmas carols, mine especially, for some reason. Daddy might have composed his own versions in his free time, but I couldn't remember the lyrics anymore.

4th floor – I was taking longer than I expected. 3rd floor - I rehearsed my plan in my head again. 2nd floor – I pulled a grenade out. Hug the shadows, babydoll, that's what we do with friends. I got down, as low as possible. The sun was setting, and the fire escape was dark. I kept to the darkest places, away from the sun-lit walls, and peeked into the next window. They were still there. Nothing had changed even after so long. Four bad guys in an apartment room. Lots of guns. A door inside opened, and one of them left. My hands trembled. I held my grenade tighter, hoping that the trembling would go away, but they wouldn't leave me alone. Whiteness in my head. Gunshots. Blood. Flies crawling out of open, giant wounds. Maggots. Blood spewing out. Light-headed. Pain, pain all over me. Felt myself getting cut up by my own knife. I hid and squeezed my eyes shut. Tried shutting them out. Couldn't.

Below…

It didn't take very long for Colonel Stars and Stripes to jack the backdoor. Hacksaw and I joined the Colonel in rushing in first to cover for the rest who lagged just slightly behind us. Insectman was in constant communication with Bravo Party, and they were called in to rush the outpost with us.

We went in quick, leaving no time at all for them to react. One of the gangsters, a guy in leather jacket, was on the way out, probably to order dinner. He froze at the sight of us, and by the time he reached for a gun in his pocket, the Colonel had already conked him over the head, leaving him behind for someone to cuff him up – All-Seeing Eye was on the job. It was a rather long corridor opening into a room, and when we got through, I saw Ronin and Monk heading the rest of Bravo Party: Sergeant Crescent, Neonstyle Epilepsy, Questioner, Target-Lock and Todd (or Ass-Kicker). They were on the opposite side of the room. The bona-fide samurai had just knocked down a door.

There were eight of them, sure enough, except that the guy in leather jacket made nine. Four of them were huddled together in a game of cards. A huge bruiser-type guy was slump on a chair, hugging his shotgun, asleep, or at least until Ronin decided to announce our welcome. Another guy was on the floor, leaning against a wall, a hat over his face, stirring awake. There was something that looks like an Uzi or Mac-10 on the floor beside him. The last two were chatting beside a bookshelf full of drugs and money, their heads just turned to regard us with wide eyes. I could imagine thought bubbles with expletives all over the place. We'd caught them on the toilet seat.

The Colonel had given us our plan before he opened the backdoor. Spread out and floor them before anyone could fire a single shot. Hacksaw made a rush for the centre, overturning a table the card players were using before delivering a blow right to the face of one of them, and the blade of his hacksaws were replaced by heavy iron rods only recently when the Colonel told him that hacksaws made impractical weapons. As the Colonel was onto the Shotgun Bruiser, immediately rushing to wrestle the big guy's shotgun away, I went straight for the guy with the SMG, who was up on his feet worryingly quick, pulling a slide-thing on his gun.

Above…

There was gunshot below, and it woke me up. Poking my head out again, I saw my guards standing up from their beds and chairs, talking, maybe wondering what was going on. I pushed the pain away, the things in my head away, and smashed the window. Heads turning. Pulling the pin on my grenade and squeezing it, I threw it into the room. Screams. I smiled. I fooled you! Hiding behind the wall, white light flashed inside the room.

It was a stun grenade, the kind that didn't look like eggs. I didn't want to kill. I didn't want to be like Demoness. I'm sorry, Daddy, but I just can't… Dave didn't want me to kill. I saw the look on his eyes when he finally figured out that I had been going out as Hit-Girl and killing people. I didn't want to do it. I was forced to. But I felt bad all the same. 'These are low-lives, baby-doll. They don't mind killing, so we should give them what they like.' I could hear Daddy speaking. I'm sorry, Daddy. I remembered laughing when he said that. I couldn't do it anymore. Something in my head was stopping me. Dave was stopping me.

Below…

Bullets were ripping through floors and walls, I thought I could feel a few cutting into me, but I was imagining things. I was still fine. When SMG Guy pointed his Mac-10 (or Uzi, I still couldn't tell), my instinct took over, and I knocked it away with my batons. I thought we'd gotten away scot-free, until I heard screaming behind me. It was Hacksaw and his low baritone voice. He was shot. Asshole! He tried aiming at me again, but I brought my sticks harder down on his arms, and he dropped his gun. He was clutching his wrist after that, as if his hand would pop off if he didn't. My heart was beating, a boombox on a rap song – I'd just narrowly avoided getting popped.

I could hear more feet storming in. I could hear Ronin screaming in Japanese, his shinai finding a face to smash. Smashing SMG Guy overhead, I brought him down, and rushed to help the others. I saw Colonel Stars and Stripes, still trying to wrestle away the shotgun from Bruiser, at least until the ex-mafia headbutt him right in the mouth, blood splashing. He was winning, and he won when he kneed Bruiser where it hurts the most.

The others were having a tougher time. Nightbitch and Insectman was double-teaming one of the two Bookshelvers, who pulled out a frickin' machete on them, swinging it wildly at them. Watching Machete Bookshelver's back was Baton Bookshelver, holding off The Questioner and Neonstyle Epilepsy. The rest were in the middle. One of the Cardplayers pulled a pistol, but Monk knocked it away with his staff. I jumped in with them, putting my batons to Pistol Cardplayer's back, but I had to pull Hacksaw out after that. It was hard to tell if he was still alive.

Pistol Cardplayer was still up, but Sergeant Crescent was onto him with his rattan club and shield. I saw him jabbing his club into Cardplayer's throat as I was dragging Hacksaw aside. Ouch.

Above…

I couldn't open the window at first, but I found the lock and opened it, hopped in. The bad guys were still screaming about being blinded and covering their eyes or their ears when I pulled a gun out. I was in a living room, so they were close to me. They were huge, unlike cans and bottles. "On the ground now, meanies!" I shouted, but they couldn't even hear me.

"Whoa, what the fuck!?" One of them swore. I didn't know what to do when they didn't even know I was in the room, so I waited, and it took them some time to see me. Immediately, his hands were up.

"I said lie down on the ground, stupid!" I repeated myself. It felt uncomfortable, shouting, and I kept switching my aim between them. All three of them had their hands up as they recovered from my stun grenade. They were still squinting and squeezing their eyes. Both my hands were on my Peabuddy. I tried to control the shaking, but I couldn't. I kept seeing blood, I kept seeing people dying, and I kept wishing that nothing like that would happen. I couldn't even think about it, or stop it. It was like being shown a documentary in class. Then one of them smiled, showing golden teeth. It didn't look good. They were heavily armed. One of them had a shotgun slung around him and resting on his belly, another had a pistol near his armpit, and the third bad guy was near a mean-looking rifle. It was too dark to see what kind of guns they had. There were shadows everywhere.

Below…

Hacksaw was still alive. I could see his chest rising and falling, and he was coughing when I pulled him aside. I saw blood, but it was coming mainly from his leg, but I saw him take a bullet in the chest as well. "I'm fine, really – not the first time." He managed to say before pushing me to join the others. Colonel Stars and Stripes on the side knocked Bruiser out with the stock of his new shotgun. He must have gotten bored of guarding him. Bruiser was still moving after that however, but Moonbird was ready on hand with a handcuff, and she gave Bruiser a suckerpunch before locking him up.

Machete Bookshelver was fighting madly like a cornered animal, knocking away both Miranda's pool cue and Insectman's shock batons, and before Insectman could put his guard up again, I saw the machete entering him, cutting across his side, where a kidney was, right across the abs. I thought I saw lots of blood, but with his red uniform, I couldn't tell.

"Coming through!" Marty screamed (Nightbitch dodged aside and Insectman was already on the sidelines) as he launched himself at Machete Bookshelver from the back – I was beginning to wonder where he'd went – bowling into both Machete and Baton, the three of them rolling on the ground. The pounds Marty'd yet to shed helped.

I joined in the middle, which could use a little help. The four Cardplayers in the middle were stubborn. One of them threw the card table at Ronin, which managed to floor him and pin him down for a while. Another managed to STEAL Monk's staff – I had no idea how that happened, so Monk was actually backing off. A third had a lethal and heavy-looking table leg to match against Doctor Gravity's Zero-G Device, and they were fencing with their medieval weapons, blocking each other, equaled in skill surprisingly.

The last Cardplayer was quite hardcore, fighting off Todd, Target-Lock and The Enforcer bare-handed. He looked like he knew a bit of martial arts. Todd tried to tackle him valiantly around the waist, but Martial Cardplayer threw him off, flinging him halfway across the room before going back to blocking punches from the other two. I was reminded that we were dealing with D'Amico's men. I pulled a Taser out and shot Monk's gangster with it so he could have his staff back.

Above…

"Little girl, why not put down that gun so we could talk?" The bad guy with the pistol near his armpit said, taunting me like a bully. He was the guy with the golden teeth, and he was smiling in a mean way. I pointed Peabuddy at him. They weren't listening to me, but I didn't want to kill them.

"You can't kill all of us." The bad guy with the shotgun on his belly dared me, just like the mean girls at school. I pointed my purple P230 at him.

"I don't think she'll kill any of us." The bad guy with the pistol near his armpit continued the taunt. My gun went back to him. My hands were shaking so badly that I wanted to drop my gun. I didn't want to kill anyone, "Look at that rascal. She doesn't have the balls."

The guy near the rifle leap for it, so I fired at him. I got him, I think. He was tumbling on the ground, swearing and screaming. I saw a shotgun raised at me, so I fired there as well, but the bad guy with the pistol was right. I couldn't kill all of them. The bad guy with the golden teeth raised his weapon fast and fired. I saw the gun blaze. I thought I saw the bullets on their way to entering me, pushing me off my feet. Felt myself hitting the wall and floor, the pain in my chest hollering and tearing at me.

Below…

When Marty came charging through, I saw that my team on that end was having an easier time. Nightbitch and gang was picking them off the floor. They were still struggling, so Nightbitch had to knock some sense into Machete Bookshelver with her pool cue before he cuts anyone else, and Insectman shocked him silly for revenge. Baton Bookshelver struggled harder, and managed to sweep Neonstyle off his feet. Light sticks scattered all over the floor. The Questioner, being his usual economic self, stepped on the last Bookshelver's baton, pinning the mobster's fingers and knuckles down on the concrete floor with it, the pain forced him to let go. Rolling the weapon away, The Questioner proceeded to pin his arms down, pulling a handcuff out.

On my side, the Monk with his staff back in his hands swung the weapon into the back of his offender's head, He didn't move after that. It got me worried when that happened (well, as much as I could worry in the middle of a heated battle), but I saw him breathing, so it was fine. Ronin managed to push the table off him, and was back on his feet.

As Doctor Gravity fenced longer with Table Leg Cardplayer, the former managed to duck below the latter's head-high swing and jammed his Zero-G Device right into his guts. It was straightforward from there as Table Leg Cardplayer ran out of steam. As he was bent double, Doctor Gravity aimed a hard one on his back.

I decided to help The Enforcer and Target-Lock, who were actually losing to Martial Cardplayer. Todd was still getting up. I'd tossed one of my batons for a Taser, so I stabbed him with it instead, and activated it. Unsurprisingly, he moved away from it, right into The Enforcer's fist. Target-Lock did the rest by sweeping him off his feet. I helped handcuff him. By the time I looked up, Ronin had taken down Table Throwing Cardplayer with a few swipes of his shinai – he was intimidating, if his victim freaking out before hitting the floor was any proof.

It was over before I knew it. By the end of the fight, there was only the sound of cuffs getting locked, the sound crisp and awesome. Then a third door opened, and a ninth man was behind it, ready with his silver pistol pointed at me. I could only barely register his traditional 60s gangster outfit with a tie and suspenders and fedora before it happened. Target-Lock saw it, and jumped right in front of me. The room blew up with light and noise, and Target-Lock fell on me. I couldn't catch him and brace myself, so I fell down with him, cushioning him. Well, it was the least I could do. From over Target-Lock's head and shoulder, I saw Moonbird disarming the ninth man and giving him a haymaker only a woman her size and skill was capable of.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Target-Lock gasped, rather out of breath from his near-death experience, before I was beginning to suspect a heroic sacrifice, before anyone could graduate from being surprised to shocked. He got off me, standing up, checking himself, "Hoh shi- I guess I bought the right vest!" Colonel Stars and Stripes glared at him for a second, before excusing his profanity due to circumstances.

Then there were the faint gunshots from upstairs. I knew the implications. I made for the third door before even the Colonel could react, "Ronin, Monk, follow Kick-Ass." I was way ahead of them that I could barely hear the leader's orders.

It didn't take very long for me to notice where the gunshot had come from. There was a door hanging ajar on the second floor. I kept my other Taser ready, accompanied by one of my green baton. I couldn't be bothered with taking cover and checking corners. Mindy. Told her not to do this! I was too imaginative for my own good. I imagined her on the ground, a bullethole on her forehead, brain matter just out of sight, covered from view by her body. Not even a tearjerking death scene at the end. I imagined her bleeding to death, the only consolation: our last words to each other before sending her to her father's side.

When I came in, there was a body by the door. His mouth was agape, showing off golden teeth, a pistol in his hand, no longer squeezing the trigger. Deeper into the apartment room were shapes on the ground. The sun was nearly done for the day. I couldn't see. So I flipped the switch, and saw dead bodies. Dead bodies by an open window, curtains flapping, the universal language of retreat. None of them was Mindy's. I finally allowed a breath out. She'd left behind three stiffs. Another was sprawled on the ground, a hand just inches away from an old AK-47. The last one died with a shotgun still held tightly, a look of pure terror locked on his face.

Footsteps behind me. I whirled around, pointing my taser at whoever was trying to backstab me. The samurai armor and monk's robe were flags of friendship I could instantly recognize. I returned my taser back to its holster on my belt. "What happened here?" Ronin asked as he was disarming one of the corpses. Oops, should have done that just in case. But I was more worried about Mindy than myself. I was still worried – she could still be hurt. Or dying. All because of me I should have stopped her from doing this I failed. Monk was doing the same thing, removing a shotgun from one of the corpses before putting his hands together to pray, though I'm not sure for who.

"I don't know." I lied as I was staring out the window, which was one way to hide the look on my face. Oh God Mindy! Please be okay… Please don't do this to me! "We should go back down and tell the Colonel." Ronin was wisely checking every room in the small apartment, but when I finally turned to him, he was still there – no surprises anywhere "I, er… Why not the two of you go ahead first? I'll catch up in a sec – there's something I have to check." Questions were written all over Ronin and Monk's faces, at least until I put a foot through the window and on the fire escape outside. It was only then that they were content. "I'll be fine on my own." And my phone was vibrating. I had never been more afraid of phones or vibrations before this.

Monk and Ronin went out of sight shortly after, the longest few seconds that ever existed with my phone whining in my pocket again and again, consistently like the footsteps of death incarnate or Juggernaut. I picked it up as soon as they were gone. The screen displayed 'Mandy Lizewski'. "Mindy!?" After my initial blowout, I could feel my lips tremble. Please don't be hurt please don't be hurt please don't be dying Oh God no please…

"D-dave…" Mindy's voice came through. She sounded weak, and she sounded like she was ready to punch her ticket soon, "I need – I need – Please. It hurts… hurts so bad. Please… I think I… I'm on the roof… the rooftop. I'm so… sorry… I-"

"Mindy, it's fine, it'll be okay." I took my first steps up, quickly.

"Dave, I'm so sorry…" Her apology continued weakly through static, through her breathing.

"Don't talk, shhhh, I'm coming! I'm coming to get you!" I was flying up the fire escape with the phone stuck to my ear, my only connection to her. I needed it, the way I needed my brain or my heart. Just hearing her breathing was good enough.

"I'm so sorry… so sorry, Dave, shouldn't have-" She continued gasping. She sounds winded, as if she'd ran more than a mile, as if breathing had become the hardest thing in the world.

"Mindy, it's fine, don't talk anymore! I'm coming to get you!" I couldn't believe myself, blazing through both my words and the metal stairs like a marathon runner. Nothing mattered but Mindy, and she'd given me wings. Just moments ago, I would have given anything for her to just soften up and forget being Hit-Girl, and now I wanted her to be the invincible Hit-Girl I knew, the one who saved me from a dozen thugs and fire.

3rd floor, 4th floor, 5th, aka the rooftop. It was refreshing to have the sun on my face again, but the feeling didn't last very long. Mindy was lying on the ground, covered by her own cloak, covering her except for her purple-wigged head and booted legs. She wasn't moving. "MINDY!" My yellow boot kicked something on the ground, something metallic. I looked down instinctually. Her pistol, purple grip, smallish, fits her like a glove. I picked it up, hoping that I could return it to her at the end of it. But it wasn't looking good. The pistol was wet with blood, "Mindy!" She wasn't responding as I screamed and ran up to her. My muscles were burning from the fight and the climb, but I didn't care. No, no, no, please don't be – Fuck you God if she-

When I was finally with her, I didn't know what to do. I was afraid of even touching her because I didn't want to make anything worse. It was the worst lesson in procrastination yet – I'd wanted to take a course in first aid with Marty, but I'd been putting it off for weeks. "Mindy?" I shook her, but she wasn't moving. Finally, I flipped her around, and saw the look on her face. Pain, utter pain.

"Dave..." She muttered weakly. At least I knew she was alive. She was clutching her chest. It could only mean one thing, "It hurts so bad, I'm scared, I'm so scared Dave please help me it hurts… hurts so…" Her lips barely moved as she whispered weakly. I tried removing her hands, but she was fighting me, as if her life depended on her hands clutching her chest, "Dave, no… Please, it…" She was hysterical, afraid – she was back to square zero.

"Mindy, please trust me. I can't do this if you-" I looked at her in the eyes, those fearful, vulnerable eyes, and saw Mandy, the innocent little girl. She nodded, trembling, removing her hands. I saw bullet holes, three of them. THREE BULLETHOLES. Yet… I caught the tag just above her collarbones and unzipped her. I was expecting flesh, and lots of blood, three bullet holes, a mangled chest, Mindy dying. Yet… blankness.

There was something black and hard underneath. A void. Letting a bit of sunlight past me, I saw glints of metal. The bullets. Three of them, flat against the something that was black and hard. Body armor, my addled mind finally found the words. For once, I was allowed hope. I plucked the bullets off. The plate underneath wasn't penetrated. "You're fine, Mindy." When I looked at her, I saw that she was crying, and they weren't tears of relief either, "You're fine, you really are, Mindy! It's okay, it really is…"

Still, I had to check for broken ribs. I'd been reading about gunshot wounds a bit – and even if the bullets did not penetrate, you weren't out of the woods yet, that much I knew. I had to remove Mindy's tights and the Kevlar vest she'd been wearing. She was back to being shy, so I had to carry her to a more private corner to do it.

I had to remove her Wonder Woman underoos to find three huge, ugly bruises covering most of her chest. I couldn't tell if anything was broken. Couldn't rest until I get her through A&E. She was still crying, just like how she used to. "Can you walk?" I asked as I was putting her underoo, then her uniform back on. She shook her head. She couldn't even talk anymore. She howled in pain as I tried to fasten her vest back on. The grip on my wrist tightened. "Alright, bad move, sorry..." I ditched her vest in a duct, where it wouldn't be found.

When I was done dressing her up, I had to leave her. The grip around my wrist tightened again; Mindy refused to let go. Her face was still contorted in pain, her eyes begging me, just begging me. "I have to talk to my team, Mandy." Her new name slipped, but she didn't care – her priority's different, I guess, after getting shot. I planted a kiss on her forehead automatically. I was surprised at myself, but I didn't have time to care, "I'll come back to fetch you, alright?" I could see her mouthing words. I made out 'stay' but I couldn't figure out the rest. "I promise I'll come back." She nodded, still laboring to breathe. Her grip on my wrist slackened, and I left after making sure she was lying down comfortably.