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Dixon grabbed one of the downed purplecoats and helped him along, barely pausing in his rush toward the admin building. Another purplecoat picked up the woman who’d been hit—Delilah, if Lila recalled her name correctly—and slung her over his shoulder.
More shots rang out.
Nico growled, hit with another bullet in his side. “Hurry up, slackers!” he roared, more to himself than anyone else.
Another purplecoat had been hit in the exchange. The woman didn’t seem to notice though, and Lila wasn’t about to tell her until they were all safe.
Bullets cut through their line once more.
Lila sprinted forward and threw open the door to the admin building. Dixon carried the man he’d been helping into the lobby and deposited him onto a couch. The other purplecoats followed his cue, and Lila slammed the door behind everyone and locked it.
She fell to the floor as bullets sprayed the wood.
A dozen frightened admins huddled against the back wall, eyes wide, arms clasped around their chests. They screamed and cringed as bullets cut through the wood a second time, their faces paling, their bodies trembling.
Nico put down Camille on a couch and reached for the wall to steady himself. Legs buckling, he slipped to the floor. Blood streaked against the stone as he sat upon the wood.
He hadn’t been the only one shot in the abdomen. Camille gripped her side, blood streaming from her wound. “I told you he’d do whatever it took to shut me up. Why wouldn’t you listen?”
Lila turned away from Camille and scanned the row of admins. She fixed on one woman in the center, wearing a violet dress and black flats. Out of every admin in the room, her expression was the most outwardly calm. “What’s your name?”
“Reagan.”
“Okay, Reagan, do you have first-aid training?”
She shook her head. “They do.” She pointed to a couple on the end.
“Reagan, I want you to look up first aid for gunshots on your palm. Remind the others what to do. Answer questions based on the information you find.” Lila turned her gaze to the pair who’d been trained. “I want one of you to stay with Nico. The other will stay with Camille. Pick a partner to help you, and do what you can to slow down the bleeding until Dr. McCrae comes. Their lives depend on it.”
Lila pointed to eight more admins. “Divide yourselves into pairs. Pick a purplecoat. Listen to Reagan’s instructions. She’s going to talk you through everything.”
The men and women scattered, seemingly eager for something useful to do.
“Who has keys to this building?” Lila shouted.
One of the remaining admins raised his hand.
“Lock every exit. If anyone else has keys, do the same. Work quickly.”
The man nodded and bustled away. A woman moved in the opposite direction, darting away with another set of keys jingling between her fingers.
“I’ll go get towels for bandages,” another said, darting off into the bowels of the building.
“You, grab a radio,” Lila said to the only remaining admin. “Call for Dr. McCrae. Keep calling until she comes.”
As ordered, the woman snatched up a purplecoat’s radio and depressed the button. Her voice shaking, she summoned the doctor and every trained medic to their location.
Lila shivered at the quiet outside the building. She heard nothing. No high-pitched wails of happy or unhappy children. No shouts from purplecoats as they joked about their last shift. No grackles begging between the houses and scavenging for food.
The only sound came from the admins. They chattered among themselves, listening to Reagan as she read and reread the first-aid instructions. They clamored even louder when one of their coworkers returned with cloth napkins from the break room.
Dixon waited in the center of the room with his tranq aimed at the front door. Lila pressed into his back, covering the opposite direction, her tranq also drawn. Her eyes flitted toward Nico, who’d been laid out on the floor, his breaths slow and shallow. Too much blood pooled around his shoulder and his side.
Nico looked at Lila square in the face, mumbled a few words, then closed his eyes.
He didn’t reopen them.
Camille didn’t look much better.
