Page 190 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

The doors burst open before Noah can answer.

‘Two more coming in!’

‘Give me handovers one at a time,’ Noah instructs calmly, the ultrasound probe still firm against Kade’s chest. ‘Worst first.’ He stares at the screen Kade can’t see. ‘Blood in the right chest.’ The probe slides beneath Kade’s ribs. His vision contracts to a bright, trembling point. ‘Free fluid around the liver too.’

‘I told you it’s internal bleeding!’

Noah searches Kade’s torso again. ‘There’s a penetrating injury pattern. Chest into the upper abdomen, but there’s no entry or exit. Did you see what happened?’

‘No. Just help him.’

‘Set up a chest drain,’ he instructs the other medics. ‘Keep his blood warm and running. Alert theatre for chest and abdomen. If his pressure drops again, I’m not waiting on further imaging.’

‘Boss is shot in the chest,’ someone tells him quietly.

Noah looks up. ‘Where?’

‘Right of centre,’ the woman tells him. ‘Entry beside the sternum, exit below the ribs, close to the spine. Seventy systolic, reduced breath sounds on the right. Abdomen’s rigid.’

Noah’s eyes cut back to Kade.

‘Stay on him,’ he tells the medic beside him, placing the probe into their waiting hand. ‘Drain the right chest, black-label blood only, repeat the scan as soon as the tube is in. If his pressure falls below ninety or he stops answering you, get me.’

He strips off his gloves as he leaves Kade’s sight.

‘Riley,’ he croaks, tasting metal.

‘They’re helping him,’ Lachlan says, holding Kade’s hand.

‘You really do need to move,’ a medic tells him.

‘No.’

‘We can’t help him if you’re in the way.’

Lachlan makes a low sound of displeasure but moves aside.

‘I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re gonna be fine. I promise.’

Nearby, Kade hears Noah say, ‘Seal the entry and exit. Two lines, blood and oxygen. Scan the right chest and upper abdomen. Theatre now.’

‘Kade, keep answering for us, OK?’

‘Is Riley… shot?’

‘Don’t worry about that right now,’ a medic says. ‘Can you wiggle your fingers for me?’

‘Riley.’

‘Kade, try and wiggle your fingers.’

Lachlan asks, ‘What blood are you giving him?’

‘It’s his own blood,’ Noah says, sweeping back to check on Kade, tipping his chin back and studying his face. ‘He has a very rare type. Show me finger movement, Kade.’

Kade does his best, manages a weak flex.