The Chemist

Then, suddenly, the sound of another shallow, sucking wheeze close beside her bowed head.

Her eyes, which she hadn’t even realized were closed, snapped open. She knew that sound.

Frantically, she ripped the glove from her hand and stretched it tight over the hole in Daniel’s chest. She watched incredulously as the pull of his struggling lung tried to suck air through the latex. She lifted the edge of the glove for the exhale, letting the air vent, and then strained the glove against his skin again for the inhale.

He was breathing.

How? The shot must have somehow missed his heart, though it seemed perfectly placed. She took stock quickly and realized that there wasn’t actually as much blood as she’d first thought. Not enough to suggest a hole in his heart. And he was breathing, which he wouldn’t have been if the bullet had gone true.

She thrust her other hand under his shoulder, searching frantically for an exit wound. Her fingertips found the tear in his jacket, and she shoved them through the hole, then into the hole in his back, trying to seal the airflow. It didn’t feel any bigger than the hole in his chest. The bullet had passed straight through him.

“Kevin!” Her raw shriek held all the panic she was too numb to feel. “I need my toolbox. Now!”

Movement again, but she didn’t look up to see if it was Kevin helping her or a victorious Deavers moving in for the kill. She found she didn’t even care if it was Deavers; she wasn’t afraid of anything he could do to her. Because if Kevin was down and unable to get her the things she needed immediately, Daniel could die in minutes.

She had more of what she needed in the car, but she had no idea how to get Daniel back to the surface.

A metallic crash sounded at her right elbow.

“Ziploc bags,” she instructed frantically. “The bottom compartment, on the left, and tape – should be near the top.”

Kevin laid the things she needed on Daniel’s chest, next to her hand. Quickly, on the exhale, she traded her glove for the plastic bag and instructed Kevin to tape it down tightly on three sides. She didn’t have anything that would work as a valve to vent the excess air, so she had to leave the fourth side open. It should suck against the hole as he inhaled, and then let the air release as he breathed out.

“Roll him toward me, I need to seal the exit wound.”

Kevin carefully moved his unconscious brother onto his side. She hoped the position would take some of the pressure off Daniel’s undamaged lung. She had to break contact with the wound briefly as Kevin moved him, and then another precious second as she used a scalpel to cut his shirt and jacket out of the way. She taped a second plastic bag against his skin while she analyzed the pool of blood beneath him. Not so much, really. The bullet had miraculously missed his heart entirely, and the major vessels as well. The exit wound looked clean and she didn’t see any bone fragments. If she could just keep him breathing, she could get him through the next hour.

Kevin’s voice interrupted her frantic planning. “Carston’s still alive. What do you want me to do with him?”

“Can he be saved?” she asked while she checked Daniel’s airway and pressure. He’d lost too much blood. He was in shock. She could still make out a pulse at his wrist, but it was weak and fading. She grabbed a syringe from the top tray and injected him with ketamine and a separate painkiller.

“Doubt it. Too much damage. He probably only has a few minutes. Oh, um, hey. Sorry, man.”

His voice had changed at the end. He wasn’t speaking to her anymore.

“Is he lucid?” she asked. She ran her hands down Daniel’s arms and legs, searching for any other wounds.

“Jules?” Carston rasped weakly.

“Kevin, bring the operating table over here. We’ve got to get Daniel up to the car.” She took a deep breath. “Lowell, it’s okay. I never poisoned Livvy. Of course not. She’s only sedated. She’ll be with her mother by morning, whether I come home or not.”

While she reassured Carston – her eyes never leaving Daniel – she heard Kevin leave and then return. There was a heavy metal groan as he shoved the table through the window and a moist thud when it hit the bodies on the floor. She bit her lip as she continued to work on Daniel, pulling the rubber pieces of his disguise out of his mouth so he couldn’t choke on them, carefully wiping the contacts from his eyes. How long till Kevin collapsed? He still had a good fifty minutes to enjoy the drugs in his system, but that wouldn’t affect how much his body could actually endure. She needed to try to remember that he wasn’t the same Kevin, the one who could do anything. She had to go easier on him. But how? Daniel needed speed. If she could just get him to the car…

“Proud of you, Jules,” Lowell Carston wheezed quietly. “You managed to hold on to your soul. Impressive…” The last word trailed off with a low, rattling exhalation. She listened for more, but it was silent behind her now.

She’d outlived Carston, a feat she never would have put money on. Instead of feeling the triumph she’d always expected, she was ambivalent. Perhaps the triumph would come later, when the panic gripping her was gone.

“Is it safe to lift him?” Kevin asked.

“Carefully. Try to keep his chest as immobile as possible. I’ll get his legs.”

Together they hefted Daniel carefully onto the silver tabletop. She took his wrist again, willing his pulse to stay discernible.

“Give me two seconds, Ollie,” Kevin said as he began stripping the soldier who’d fallen over Daniel’s legs, the one with the least blood on him. “How many more are upstairs?”