“Go,” I repeated to the kids, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Go now.”
ChapterThree
After Mason and Ari disappeared down the alley, I crawled toward Edgar, my hands trembling slightly. He had a bloody wound on his right shoulder, and as I checked him over, I saw a jagged piece of gray metal protruding from the injury. It wasn’t a bullet. It was some kind of flying shrapnel.
“What is that?” His voice was strained as he grasped at the object sticking out of his shoulder. “Get it out.”
I moved his hand away from the wound. “Don’t move, Edgar,” I said firmly, despite the panic bubbling inside me. “Pulling it out could make it worse.”
He winced and nodded, his breath coming in short, pained gasps. “Hurts like hell,” he muttered, his face contorting in pain.
“I know, I know,” I murmured, more to calm myself than him. “Just stay still.” I fumbled for my phone, dialing 911 with trembling fingers. The streets were clearing as people sought shelter and safety, but there were no more shots.
“911, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher’s voice crackled through the phone.
“There’s been a possible shooting,” I said quickly and quietly, in case the gunman was nearby. “A man’s been injured. We’re at the corner of Main and Elm, near the old Dolly’s Doll Emporium. He’s got a shoulder injury that’s bleeding.”
“Is he losing a lot of blood?” she asked.
I assessed Edgar’s shoulder, and the blood was barely oozing now. Had the fragment sticking out staunched the wound? Another reason for never removing impaled objects. “It doesn’t look like it.”
“That’s great,” she said. “Keep him calm and still, if you can. Patrol cars and an ambulance have been dispatched to your location,” the dispatcher said calmly and reassuringly. “I want you to stay on the phone with me until they arrive, okay?”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see the gesture and said, “Yes, okay.” It was comforting to have someone else’s voice in my ear to drown out the fear spiral happening in my brain.
“My name is Susan,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“Nora Black,” I answered.
“Are you in a safe place, Mrs. Black?”
I didn’t correct her assumption that I was married. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly, glancing at Edgar’s pained expression. “But I can’t leave Edgar.”
“Is that the name of the injured man?”
“I’m not sure if he’s been...” I shook my head. She didn’t need my speculation about his injury. Only facts would be helpful right now. “His name is Edgar Jones.”
“The banker?” she asked incredulously, then immediately switched back to rescuer mode. “The police and an ambulance should arrive soon. Do you feel comfortable giving me more information about the events leading up to the incident?”
The street had gotten quiet, and I hadn’t heard any more shots. I hoped that meant the perpetrator had left the area. “I guess so.”
“Did you see the gunman?”
“No,” I told her. “I didn’t.” I met Edgar’s brown eyes. “Did you see anyone with a weapon?”
“No.” He winced. “I was buying kettle corn...” His voice trailed off.
“Edgar didn’t see the person either.”
I could hear sirens in the distance. The sound sent a rush of relief through me, and tears blurred my vision.
“Do you know how many shots were fired?” Dispatcher Susan queried.
“I heard two cracking pops, but I’m not sure it was gunfire.”
Edgar moaned. “I feel lightheaded,” he complained. “Please,” he begged. “I don’t want to die. Please, please, don’t let me die.”
There hadn’t been much blood loss since he’d collapsed. “Did you get hit anywhere else?”
