The lead man looked back at his companions, exchanging questioning glances with them before turning back to Rick. He lowered his rifle slightly and stepped forward. “Move back. I want to see behind the counter.”
Rick shuffled to the side, nearly tripping over the rubble, and looked down at the others. “Dr. Evans, put the gun down and keep your hands on your head, okay?” Dr. Evans shook his head again, but Rick nodded and persisted. “Just trust me, okay?”
Rick wasn’t sure why he was putting his trust in the men standing in the shop with their rifles aimed in his direction. It could have been because the men didn’t immediately open fire or call him a liar or do any number of other things that would indicate that they didn’t really care about Rick or his companions, or it could have been because he really didn’t have much of any other choice. Relief flooded him, though as Dr. Evans slowly put the pistol on the ground and put his hands on his head, just as the lead man stepped up and looked over the counter.
“Shit.” The man stepped back and looked over his shoulder. “We’ve got one wounded here. Get a medic and some backup to help shift this crap off of her legs.”
The man standing at the very edge of the shop nodded and headed out into the street, calling out to his companions. The one closest to Rick turned to him and looked him up and down carefully before turning to Dr. Evans. “You, get up and stand next to your friend there, okay? Don’t make any sudden movements.”
Dr. Evans complied with the instruction, glancing longingly at the discarded pistol on the ground as he stood up. He still had one tucked into his back waistband, but there was no possible way he could fish it out and use it without getting all of them killed. Like Rick, he had little choice but to trust that the men in the shop weren’t going to kill them, though that was of little comfort to him.
“You armed?” The man asked Dr. Evans, who glanced at Rick before answering.
“Y—yes.”
“Where at?”
“Behind me, in my belt. A pistol.”
The man nodded, tightening his grip on his rifle while his companion near the door did the same. “Pull it out slowly and put it on the floor.” As Dr. Evans did what the man told him, Rick spoke up.
“We’ve got a rifle and a couple more handguns behind the counter. It’s not much, but you’re welcome to take them in exchange for our lives.”
“In… what?” The man looked confused as he turned to his companion. The other man dressed in a police jacket shook his head and replied.
“They think we’re bandits or something, Lance.”
“Oh for…” The leader shook his head and sighed. “We’re not going to hurt you so long as you don’t make any movements against us.” He extended his hand to Rick while his companion watched warily, his rifle still up. “I’m Captain Lance Recker, Capitol Police.”
“You—you’re really with the Capitol Police?” Dr. Evans blurted out, his hands still on his head even while Rick cautiously shook Lance’s hand.
“Of course we are,” Recker replied. “Who else would we be with the hats and jackets?”
Rick shook his head. “If you’ve seen some of the things we’ve seen, you’d have a whole host of ideas running through your head.” He sighed with relief before turning to Jane as she groaned.
“Hey, you idiots, I’m still trapped under here. And it still hurts like hell.”
“Jane!” Rick started moving toward her before stopping and looking at the captain. “We need to get her out.”
Recker glanced at the other officer standing closer to the doorway before tossing him his rifle. “Here. Keep an eye on them.” The officer near the door looked like he was about to argue, but Recker shut him down with a narrowing of the eyes and a shake of his head. He and Rick hurried to Jane’s side and began shifting rubble while Dr. Evans moved the pile from behind the counter to out front, all while doing his best not to make eye contact with the officer still standing near the door.
After a few minutes, three officers ran up to the shop and looked inside, their hands immediately jumping to their weapons before Recker raised his hand and s
hook his head. “Stand down. Jackson, get back here and look at her legs. She had a lot of rubble fall on them.”
Rick and Captain Recker moved aside while an officer carrying a large red bag slipped behind the counter, eying Rick and Dr. Evans warily. “You good here, sir?” He looked at Recker as he asked the question, trying to figure out if his captain was somehow on the wrong end of a hostage situation.
“All good here. Take care of her, okay?”
Satisfied with the answer, Jackson knelt down and turned his attention to Jane, who was lying still on the ground with her eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow and hoarse, and she groaned as Jackson gently probed her dirt and blood-covered legs.
“What’s your name?” Jackson spoke quietly to Jane as he felt for breaks and watched her reactions, trying to gauge how much pain she was feeling.
“Jane.” She whispered the answer through gritted teeth.
“Nice to meet you, Jane. I’m Scott. Can you describe how much pain you’re feeling right now on a scale of one to ten?”
“Nineteen?” Jane whispered again, though this time there was a hint of a smile playing at her lips. Scott smiled back and shook his head.