“Oliver, don’t!” I yell as his body rushes by, but it does no good.
Isaac clears the doorway and gets one step down the staircase before Oliver is on him, pulling him back by the neck of his shirt. The two men get tangled up around one another. Isaac’s arms flail and he loses his balance, falling down a step and takingOliver down too. They slide down two of the concrete steps before Isaac wraps his arm around Oliver’s body. Like a horrific snowball of activity you see in cartoons, they roll down the stairs together, their bodies bouncing on each drop. Oliver’s head hits a metal support beam on the way down, blood trailing along the steps after.
“Oliver!” I scream and enter the stairwell. “Someone call 911.”I only hope the makeup artist heard me and listens, calling whoever handles emergencies in this country. Where the hell is Dexler when you need him? The security force was supposed to be increased after the break-ins but I haven’t seen one all day.
I clear three steps before the men come to a stop at the bottom of the staircase. Isaac disentangles himself from a limp Oliver and with a final evillook in my direction runs through the doorway of the lower floor. Oliver still isn’t speaking when I reach his body.
Kneeling beside him, I grab his wrist intending to find a pulse, but quickly realize I have no real idea how to do that. He’s obviously breathing from the rise and fall of his chest, but his eyes are closed and he doesn’t move.
“Oliver,” I say shaking his shoulder slightly notwanting to move him in case he’s broken something. Blood runs from his nose, but there doesn’t appear to be any other injuries. His body lays on top of one of his arms, but there isn’t blood gushing from any direction, so I don’t move him, waiting instead for the ambulance.
Another body joins me in the stairwell and screams when she sees the scene. Already panicked, her terror adds to my levelof fear and I shake Oliver again. “Oliver, come on. Say something,” I plead one last time.
