Page 36 of Run to Ground
“Hugh, you dumbass!” Theo hissed as he pulled the trigger again and again, trying to provide whatever cover he could for his partner—his partner who should’ve stayed in the safety of the school rather than risk returning to Theo.
In his peripheral vision, Theo could see Hugh getting closer, could hear his rough breathing and running steps hitting the ground. Theo’s attention was focused on the shooter, however, and he pulled out another magazine from the holder on his belt and did a tactical reload. It took barely three seconds before Theo was shooting again.
Just a few steps away, Hugh gave a startled grunt. Theo turned and saw his partner fall, a surprised expression on his face. It felt like all the air had been punched out of Theo’s lungs—as if the bullet had slammed into him, right along with Hugh.
Without thinking, before he could even regain his breath, Theo was there. Jamming his pistol back in its holster, Theo grabbed fistfuls of Hugh’s uniform shirt and pulled. The heavy form didn’t want to budge, but it finally, grudgingly, started sliding across the grass.
Theo took one backward step and then a second, dragging his partner toward the safety of the sign. A bullet hit the ground just inches from Theo’s foot, debris showering his pant leg. Another clipped the sign, digging a chunk from the stone.
There was a tearing sound as a seam in Hugh’s shirt gave way, and Theo shifted his grip, hooking his hands under Hugh’s arms instead. Hugh was using his right leg to help, pushing it against the ground. Another bullet hit the ground close—too close—to Hugh’s leg, and Theo took several rushing steps back, not stopping until all of Hugh was behind the sign.
Dropping Hugh’s shoulders, Theo scanned his partner’s sprawled shape, looking for where the bullet had hit. It didn’t take long to find. The navy material over his thigh was soaked with blood, and a small hole punctured the center. Theo pulled out his pocketknife and lifted the wet fabric away from Hugh’s skin before slicing through his uniform pants, cutting and ripping until the wound was exposed through the enlarged hole.
Blood flowed from the wound, and Theo felt a familiar pressure in his chest that stopped him from breathing. He pressed a hand firmly against Hugh’s thigh as he grabbed his portable radio from his belt.
“Officer down!” There was too much blood. It leaked out around Theo’s palm as his other hand fumbled to manage his radio with fingers that felt clumsy and thick. Had the bullet struck the femoral artery? Jesus. He prayed it hadn’t.
“Copy, officer down.” There was the slightest of quavers underneath the dispatcher’s calm tone, and his words came a little too quickly. “Unit number?”
“Fifty-six seventy-four.” Theo’s thumb, slippery from blood and sweat, slid off the “talk” button, cutting him off in the middle of his transmission. “Goddammit!”
He adjusted his fingers around the radio, unintentionally pressing down harder on the wound with his other hand. Hugh groaned, and Theo immediately lightened the pressure. “Sorry, buddy.” He’d pulled back too much, though, and a gush of blood poured from the wound. His teeth clenched so tightly that his molars squeaked together, Theo pushed his palm hard against Hugh’s leg again, forcing himself to ignore his partner’s yelp of pain.
Turning back to the radio, he repeated his unit number before saying, “Fifty-six thirty-three has been shot in the thigh. He’s bleeding heavily and needs Medical.”
“Copy.”
“Negative.” Lieutenant Blessard’s sharp voice broke in before the dispatcher could say anything further. “Med’s staging until we get word from the Emergency Response Unit that the scene is secure.”
Glancing down at the blood coating everything—way too much blood—Theo swallowed a growl. The shooter had been silent since Hugh’d gone down with a startled grunt. The stone sign offered some cover, but it also blocked Theo’s view of anything except a chalk-white-and-blood-red Hugh. “Negative on that negative. He needs Med herenow.”
“We’re not sending medics in to get shot at, Bosco.” Blessard dropped all attempts at radio etiquette. “Keep pressure on the wound, and I’ll kick some ERU ass into high gear. They’ll send out the Beast for you. We need to secure the scene before anyone else can get out there.”
Clenching his teeth to hold back a profanity-heavy retort, Theo gripped the portable so tightly his fingers turned white.
“It’s okay, Theo.” Hugh’s voice was rough and breathy and didn’t even sound like him. “They’re moving as fast as they can.” He paused to suck a breath in through his teeth. “LT’s right.”
“Fuck that.”
“Bosco!” Blessard growled, but Theo had already reclipped the portable to his belt. He’d need both hands for this. “Bosco!”
“Dude.” Hugh gave a gasping laugh as his eyes started to close. “You’re in so much trouble.”
“Wake up!” Theo barked. “C’mon, you lazy ass. I need you to do some of the work.”
Although Hugh forced his eyes to open with obvious effort, he was so pale there was a green undertone to his tan skin. “What…are you…talking about? You’re the…lazy one.”
“Give me your hand.” Theo was almost snarling by this point. He’d lost so much this past year. He knew, justknew, that he couldn’t survive losing Hugh. If Theo let another partner die, that would be the end of him. “Hugh, you fucking asshole! Give me your goddamned hand!”
There was a pause, just a single second of stillness, but long enough to make Theo’s heart stop.
“Such language.” Hugh tsked, his voice weak but present, the hint of a teasing smile on his face. He slowly raised a visibly shaking arm.
Relief flooded Theo, making his heart thud with such force it felt like it was pounding against his rib cage. He grabbed Hugh’s hand and positioned it over his own where he was futilely trying to stanch the bleeding. “Press here. Hard as you can. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Theo slid his hand free and pushed Hugh’s palm against the gushing hole. He didn’t think it was possible for Hugh to blanch any paler, but somehow he managed it. Theo hardened his heart against the grimace on his partner’s face. “Harder. Don’t be a baby.”
