The plan fell apart so fast, and his thoughts couldn't keep up.
His arm fell to his side, nearly wrenching the gun from his grasp.
Steps unsteady.
Blood rushed too quickly from his wound.
World spinning.
Arms heavy.
He wasn't dead yet.
And Kira…
She skidded to a stop beside him.
As the life spilled out from Zayne, his mind and body shut down everything except for survival, and that one word. That word filled him as Kira gripped his arm.
Safe.
But not for long.
Zayne's legs gave out. He crashed onto his knees and slammed against Kira as she dropped down with him. Every touch hurt more than he could even process but having her with him was worth it.
“Zayne!”
Her voice bounced around in his mind, reverberating with the gunshots that tore through his world.
Even before assessing damage, he wanted to tell her he was okay and ease the terror blazing in her eyes.
“My…” No breath. “...bag…”
Kira wrestled it off his back. Any longer, and Graves would have had time to train the gun back on his heart. It'd been close.
He tried planning and calculating, but the shock of the gunshot shut down his thoughts.
She stripped his uniform jacket free, and the movement hurt so bad his body curled in on itself, leaning against her. Red stained his white shirt down to his pants. Kira let out a horrified gasp.
He was losing blood too fast. The bullet hole looked like it was over his liver, or close to it. High risk for catastrophic blood loss. The clotters could only do so much if he took too much damage.
He couldn't die in front of her.
Kira ripped his shirt up, grimacing at the hole tearing into the base of his chest. She searched his back, her voice shaking. “There's no exit wound. No, no, no. The bullet's still inside of you.”
Because it just had to get worse.
He felt himself sinking. Knew he'd collapse any second. “Put my bag… behind…”
She shoved it behind him as he fell and landed on top, a stunted cry ripping through him.
“Hang on. I'm here.” Kira pressed her hands against the wound, and he growled through clenched teeth, fighting the darkness eating away at his vision.
With one hand stifling the flow of blood, Kira dug in his bag and pulled out the clotters, continuing to search until she found scissors.
His vision darkened while she cut away his shirt.
“I'm sorry,” she said through tears, lining the applicator with his wound.
