With movement all around her, Bryn’s attention was drawn to a man standing still. She realized with a start that he was staring straight at her.
Is he the owner of the car? Did he see me kick it?Without taking the time to wonder about it, Bryn straightened up and gave a sarcastic little wave. Heat washed over her and she felt like an idiot when the man didn’t wave back. He half turned as if he was going to walk toward her and panic gripped her.
I don’t have bail money.The thought almost brought her to tears.Can you get arrested here for touching someone’s car?
Run!
Her hand tightened on her suitcase and she prepared to flee as best she could. Maybe he wouldn’t chase her and shecould pull stuff up on her phone just as easily a few blocks away as she could standing right there.
Bryn’s eyes were still locked with the stranger as her brain struggled to make her legs follow commands. Almost as if he thought better of it, he turned back toward the terminal. She let out her breath and glanced at her phone.
A scream yanked her attention back to the man just as he jerked backwards a bit and grabbed his chest. It wasn’t until she heard his vague, muffled cry that she registered something horrible had happened.
An arrow stuck out of the man’s chest. His hands wrapped around it as he fell to his knees.
What the hell?
The woman screamed again as she ran and people scattered. Suitcase forgotten, she covered the distance in just a few leaps. He was almost on the ground by the time she grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to ease his fall to the pavement.
“Easy, buddy. Let me help you.”
He stared up at her, but the only word that he uttered was a name. Lars.
“Who is Lars?”
She sat down next to him with her back to the airport entrance.
“I’ve got you.” She cradled his head in her lap. Nursing had never been her strong point, but she suddenly wished she had gone to college to be a registered nurse. “What the hell happened?” Her brain could not process the situation.
His eyes pierced into her, full of pain but also… something else that she couldn’t interpret. One of his hands left the arrow and gripped her own. She ignored the warm, sticky blood that covered his fingers and smeared across her own skin. She gently brushed his hair back with her free hand. “Who did this?”
Even as she uttered the words, her mind suddenly slammed into focus. “Oh, shit. You were shot.” Whoever had shot him could still be around. She glanced all around but most people had ducked behind whatever was available when he fell to the ground. She was alone with a stranger, completely out in the open. He needed to be moved to a safer spot, but she knew enough to understand that moving him could be fatal.
“You’re not Lars…” He struggled to whisper to her.
She leaned down toward him, suddenly not worried about the danger. He needed her, and if someone was going to shoot her, they had already had plenty of time to do so.
“I don’t know who Lars is. I’m just someone in the right place at the right time.”Or is that the wrong place at the wrong time?“For you anyways.”
Before she could stop him, he yanked the arrow out. It fell to the side and his arm dropped as if he had no more strength. Her free hand automatically covered the wound and she applied pressure through his clothes as she had seen on television to quell the bleeding.
His lips curved almost as if he were trying to smile. “I guess Lars was right…” he croaked out, but then the hand that gripped hers suddenly went slack.
“Stay with me,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She moved her legs to jostle his head just a bit to try and keep him awake.
His eyes fluttered open again, but only for a moment. She touched his cheek and felt a jolt in her arm. It wasn’t like a static shock, but she couldn’t focus on what it was. “Come on. Wake up.”
When his eyes didn’t open, terror set in. He couldn’t die right there in her lap. She pressed harder on his wound and felt a tingling run through her arm. She frowned as it grew stronger but chalked it up to adrenaline.
“I need help over here!” Bryn’s voice was high and panicky. Someone shouted to her that help was on the way.
The man’s hand slipped from hers and fell to his side. Tears spilled over at the helpless feeling that rushed through her, and Bryn could do nothing but cradle his head and hold his hand.
She became aware of the shouts all around, the car doors slamming, and the excited shouts of other passengers. It had been mere minutes but already seemed a lifetime.
Her first few minutes in Stagholt had narrowed down to an injured man and the section of concrete beneath them.
The man’s eyes fluttered again.
