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For a moment I was frozen. I’d never been frozen before, at least not when other lives were in danger. But I was paralyzed, trying with every gasp of breath to get my mind to wrap around what I was looking at. I couldn’t put a thought together. The only thing there was fear.
“Down,” I heard someone yell, but all sound was distorted, as if I were underwater and I could only hear my own screaming in my head.
“Jaye,” Jack said, taking me by both arms and looking into my eyes. “Jaye,” he said again. “Focus on me and breathe. You’re okay.”
The more I focused on his voice, the clearer it became, and the sound whooshed back to my ears as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume on the radio. Jack was covered in blood and I had a moment of panic that it was his.
“It’s not mine,” he said, reading my thoughts. “I’m fine. But Plank needs some help. Sit down and breathe.”
I almost did as he told me, but something kicked in from deep inside and I shook my head, willing myself back to reality.
“I’m okay,” I said, my voice coming out in a croak. “I’m okay.”
I knelt down next to Plank, trying to assess the damage and remember my training. “Did anyone call 911?” I asked.
“On the way,” Martinez said, standing behind me. “Sheriff, we’ve got officers en route. There’s only one place that shot could’ve come from. What do you want to do?”
I could hear the sirens as police cars swarmed the area and the accompanying yells as people were ordered back so they could block off the streets.
“Take a team and go,” Jack said. “Be careful. He’s elevated. He’ll see you coming if he hasn’t already moved out.”
I was trying to assess Plank, but it was almost impossible to determine the source of his wound. He’d been standing closest to Pickering and he was covered in blood, bone, and tissue. It made sense that the bullet that had done that much damage to Pickering’s head would’ve found another target. And Plank had been that target.
I found the entry wound just under his collarbone, and I felt behind him to see if there was an exit wound. There wasn’t, which was good news for Plank. Someone shoved a towel into my hand and I applied pressure, ignoring the fact that my own hand was shaking.
“You with me, Plank?” I asked, grabbing his wrist with one hand and searching for his pulse. It was fast, but it was strong.
His lips moved as if he were trying to speak, but he pressed them together tightly through the pain.
“You’re going to be okay,” I said. “But that collarbone is probably hurting pretty bad.”
“Bullet hurts too,” he said between gritted teeth.
“Thattaboy,” I said. “Deep breaths. Slow exhale. EMTs are on the way. Just think of how good Wachowski is going to treat you after this. Waiting on you hand and foot. Sponge baths.”
“She’s going to be so mad,” Plank whispered. “I’d almost rather die.”
I heard the EMTs coming in behind me and the familiar sound of the gurney as it rolled across the floor. I felt hands take over the pressure and I moved out of the way so I was sitting against the booth on the floor. I didn’t trust my legs to stand back up. My arms rested limply on my knees and I hung my head taking in deep breaths and trying not to think what clung to my skin and hair.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but I’d appreciated that everyone had left me alone. I knew Jack had a job to do, and I also knew he was worried about me. But I couldn’t ask him to stop his responsibilities just to make sure I didn’t fall apart.
“Dr. Graves,” someone said. I didn’t recognize the voice, and I had trouble lifting my head to see who it was.
It was one of the crime scene techs. I’d seen her at the Purple Pig, but I didn’t know her by name.
“I’m Officer Daniels,” she said. She had a kind, round face and dark eyes. Her dark hair was in tight braids and brushed the tops of her shoulders. “We need to collect the evidence from you and get you cleaned up.”
“Right,” I said, letting her help me to my feet.
“We’ve got a curtained area set up over here,” she said. “You’ll need to remove your clothing so we can bag it, and then we’ll get the particulates from your hair.”
I closed my eyes and tried not to visualize what I must look like, but then I saw Jack and Cole behind one of the curtained areas, their chests bare and their jaws clenched tight as a couple of techs removed pieces of flesh and bone from their hair.
Holmes and Darnell were inside another curtained area receiving the same treatment, though it didn’t look as if they’d had as much spatter as the rest of us. They’d both been standing on the other side of the table so it made sense. I also noticed Darnell was handcuffed to one of the metal poles.
“You get your own tent,” Officer Daniels said.
“Lucky me,” I said, looking at what appeared to be four yellow sheets that were hung with a prayer on a shower curtain rod.
