Here you are. The next chapter of Santa Monica. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 3

Ignoring the growing bloodstain on his stomach, Steve ran to Catherine, who was still lying motionless in the front door of the caravan. Carefully, he turned her around to face him and searched for her pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it beat weakly against his fingers. With the last of his strength, he tried to apply pressure to her wound. Then he noticed how he became less and less aware of his surroundings. Spasmodically, he tried to stay awake, but then his consciousness slipped away and he went down next to Catherine.

After the attacker ran away and nothing could be heard, Mary pushed the box away from their hiding place, but ordered the girls to stay under the car. They had all watched the fight between Steve and the man, and with eyes widening in shock, had seen Steve hit by the bullet and then collapse next to Catherine in the entrance to the trailer. Joan had tears streaming down her finely cut face. Her favorite uncle was hurt and actually she wanted to go to him too, but was also still afraid that the attacker might come back and so followed her mother's instruction.

Meanwhile, Mary ran over to the caravan.

"Steve! Catherine? Oh, my God, please don't."

Hectically, Mary felt for their pulses. Relieved, she found that both were still alive, but the stains on their clothes were steadily increasing. She approached the woman who had called Catherine and Steve to her.

"I need your help, please. Press on the wound on Catherine, I'll take care of Steve."

But despite her efforts to squeeze off the wound, the blood stains grew larger and larger. Catherine also seemed to have trouble breathing. Due to the amount of dead and injured, police and paramedics were in constant use right now, but Catherine and Steve needed to get to a hospital as soon as possible. Frantically, Mary looked around. There was no one in sight she could ask for help.

Suddenly the door of another caravan opened and an elderly woman cautiously stuck her head out.

"Help! Can you please help us?"

Mary addressed the woman directly. She flinched noticeably and was about to close the door again, then seemed to have changed her mind and came over to them quickly.

"Can you please push hard here. I'll try to get the paramedics here. Thank you."

Mary gave both women a grateful look and then ran forward onto the pier. A horrific picture revealed itself to her. The road was littered with dead and injured, and the police and relief workers had their hands full. Tears came to her eyes.

"Help! We need help here!"

But no one reacted. Everyone was busy with the other victims. Mary wrung her hands in despair.

"Mary?"

Through her tear-blurred gaze, she could barely make out who was calling her name. She wiped her face and, surprisingly, saw Chin coming toward her.

"Mary, are you hurt?"

He looked at her bloodied hands.

"Chin? What are you doing here?" glad to see him, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the caravans.

"We need help! Quick!"

Again she burst into tears.

Chin quickly called two paramedics to him and asked them to follow. When they approached the trailers, Chin stopped, rooted to the spot.

"Oh my God, is that Catherine and Steve?"

Mary nodded through her tears, unable to get a word out. The paramedics were already running to the injured.

"They're still alive, but it doesn't look good. We need two cars here urgently."

Chin nodded and pulled out the radio.

"Mommy, can we come out?"

Mary sniffled and pulled herself together. She swallowed.

"Yes, Joanie, please stay with me though."

Chin looked away from his injured friends in amazement and saw four pale girls crawl out from under the caravan and run to Mary. Mary took all four of them in her arms and hugged them protectively. Chin didn't even want to imagine what the girls had just seen. They would definitely need psychological help. One of the girls broke away from Mary for a moment, came up to Chin and hugged him. Only now did he recognize Joan, Mary's daughter.

"Joanie. Are you all right?"

She sniffled and her eyes were red from crying.

"Uncle Steve, he,...he saved us. When the man was about to shoot at us, he threw himself at him, in the process..." she swallowed, "in the process, the man shot at him and then ran away."

She looked up at Chin with wide eyes.

"He's going to be all right, Uncle Chin, isn't he? And Catherine too?"

Chin hugged the girl and looked anxiously at the two wounded men, who had already been given access and their bullet wounds provisionally dressed.

"I hope so, Joanie, I hope so."

Then he moved the girl an arm's length away from him and looked into her eyes.

"You saw the perpetrator?"

Joan nodded, tears coming to her eyes again. Thoughtfully, he returned her to Mary, then pulled Steve's sister aside a bit.

"Did you see the perpetrator, too?"

Somewhat surprised by the question, Mary stared at him for a moment, but then nodded.

"Can you describe it? I'd hate to ask the girls that, I think they have enough to deal with with the experience."

Mary glanced at the four pale girls who were silently watching the paramedics.

"Yeah, I should be able to handle that."

At that moment, the two requested ambulances backed up to the caravans. Quickly, the paramedics grabbed Catherine and Steve onto the stretchers and took them into the cars. Shortly after, the ambulances sped away with blue lights and sirens blaring. Mary, Chin and the girls were left stricken.