Page 150 of Wasted

Robert reached the desk first. “We have a female gunshot wound victim in critical condition in our vehicle just outside.”

“Orderly!” One of the women waved at a man coming out from a corridor, and she hurried around the desk.

The other nurse had picked up a phone and was saying something over the PA system that Cillian didn’t try to make out.

“Show us where she is.” The first nurse looked at Cillian as the orderly she’d called grabbed a stretcher on wheels parked by a wall.

Cillian glanced back at Robert. Looked like the other nurse had him filling out some sort of form on a clipboard. Lucky he was a family member. Or was that God’s doing, too?

Cillian spun away, tabling the question for another time as he led the orderly and nurse out of the hospital to the pickup. He helped the orderly transfer Vicki from Hank to the stretcher, then stayed glued to her side as they wheeled her into the building.

More hospital staff met them at the door, walking quickly alongside the stretcher as they threw medical terms and numbers back and forth.

They turned to the right at the corner, no one trying to push Cillian away from Vicki, which would’ve been impossible.

“Stop!” A man’s shout echoed in the corridor.

A guy ran straight at them.

Tall and skinny. Blue jacket. Dark jeans.

Warren.

Cillian bolted into action, running at him.

Warren froze, eyes huge as he stared at Cillian.

He had him.

Cillian dove at Warren. Too soon.

The kid dodged.

Cillian fell to the ground, his chin smacking against the hard floor. He scrambled to his feet as the pursuing cops ran toward him, too far behind to catch the fugitive.

“Warren!” Cillian sprinted after the punk.

Warren headed right for the doctors and nurses surrounding…Victoria.

If he hurt her again?—

He suddenly stopped. Next to Victoria’s stretcher.

The nurses and other staff moved into Cillian’s path, forcing him to slow as they tried to get away from the fleeing criminal.

“Victoria?” Cillian pushed through the panicked people who blocked his view of Victoria as they jabbered in confusion and chaos.

His vision of Warren and the stretcher cleared as he reached the other side of the medical staff. All except for one orderly who lingered on the opposite side of the stretcher from Warren. Why wasn’t the orderly rolling Victoria away?

Then Cillian saw it.

Victoria’s arm reached out from the stretcher, her hand on Warren’s wrist as he stood there, unmoving.

Cillian snuck closer, not wanting to spook the punk.

“I thought I killed you.” Warren’s tight, frightened voice reached Cillian’s ears.

“No, Warren.” Victoria’s weak tone was harder to hear as Cillian got within a couple feet of her shooter. “I know you didn’t mean to shoot me.”