So would I.
The lights came back on.
“Can you hop if I support you?”
Probably not. Between the pain, the blood loss, and my blown out knee, the idea of hopping made me want to vomit.
But I’d try.
We’d taken two steps before G called over to the guy at the door. “Help me carry him out.”
Out? No, I needed to see Nina.
“Nina.”
“Calm down, Winchester, that’s where we’re taking you.”
Two men supporting me by my overworked shoulders was painful, but significantly better than me having to put any pressure on my lower body.
The nameless, faceless guy helping G support me relayed to his team that we were on the move.
As we walked, as they carried me, into the large warehouse room, the metallic tang of blood filled my nose.
Shepherd Security was already moving the dead bodies towards the back door.
Nina lay on the floor, pale and unmoving.
No. No. No. She can’t be dead. Surely G would’ve told me.
“Nina!” My attempt to rush forward resulted in me crumbling towards the ground.
Thankfully, G and Rogers’ teammate had fast reflexes, or I would’ve face planted.
“She’s fine,” Rogers said as the two men supporting me lowered me to the ground beside Rogers and Nina.
“What’d you give her?” I grunted out. Now that my adrenaline was wearing off, the pain was coming in fast and hot.
“A sedative so she’ll stay unconscious until SSI gets you both to the hospital.”
“SSI?” I hoped he understood the question, because it was getting harder to talk.
“Waiting impatiently at the perimeter.”
Chapter 60
Austin
“You look like hell,” Rogers said before offering me morphine, which I declined.
He pulled what looked like a green cigar from his bag. “Here, suck on this; it’ll help with the pain.”
I sucked greedily, knowing the pain would continue to increase as the last of my adrenaline wore off. “She okay?”
“A few bruises, but I didn’t find any injuries.” Rogers eyed me up and down. “You, on the other hand, are fucked up beyond all recognition.”
I would’ve laughed at the joke, but I was fading fast. The tourniquet had stopped the blood loss, but I’d already lost a lot before G crushed my femoral artery and stemmed the flow.
“Blood type?” Rogers asked.
