The Third Victim Part 5

She nodded supportively. Bradley's skin was turning blue. He was going cyanotic. Then would come hypovolemic shock from blood loss, followed by unconsciousness. If the bleeding still didn't stop, he would die. Walt and Emery were working furiously, but bandage after bandage continued to turn red.

"Heard shots .. ." Bradley gasped.

"Wanted ... to help."

"You're a brave man, Bradley."

He grimaced.

"Came around .. . boom. Never ... saw.. ."

"What hit you?"

"Yeah." His breath escaped as a hiss.

"Toured in "Nam. Funny .. . thought it'd be ... there."

Bradley's eyes suddenly rolled back in his head. Walt swore sharply.

"Dammit, I need more gauze. Emery."

Emery held open an empty kit.

"We've hit bottom."

"Load and go," Walt directed, reaching for the gurney as Rainie scrambled out of the way. "Won't do any good," Emery countered.

"Hospital's too far away."

"Chopper?" Rainie asked.

"Called it in seven minutes ago. Probably got another five-minute wait."

"Well, s.h.i.t," Cunningham cried from behind Rainie.

"Stop the bleeding, do something for him. He's dying, can't you see?"

The rookie looked at them all, then in a burst of movement ripped off the tan shirt he'd bought with pride just two months ago.

"Here, here, use this."

"We need more," Walt said.

"To bandage the wound up tight."

The janitor's closet," Rainie exclaimed.

"Right there. It must have something."

"Sanitary napkins," Walt declared.. "They work like a charm!"

Chuck was closest. He grabbed the metal doork.n.o.b and pulled hard. The door was locked. He pounded it once with an open hand. When that didn't work, he leveled his gun.

"Jesus Christ!" Rainie hurtled herself at his outstretched arm and knocked the Clock .40 from his grasp just before he could fire. Then she turned on him with hard eyes.

"G.o.ddammit. Don't you ever draw down like that! Not at a crime scene where you'd contaminate all the evidence, and not in a building where everyone is scared out of his mind. Half the parents out there would've come running in with their shotguns and blasted you to bits."

"We gotta get it open!" Chuckie yelled.

"Then throw your shoulder into it! You're not made of gla.s.s."

Chuckie's eyes lit up. He took a running leap at the closet as Rainie stepped to the side and prepared to cover. All those closed-up cla.s.srooms. Who took the time to shut a door when they were running for their lives? Who sealed up each room neat and orderly, as if they had all the time in the world? Not schoolchildren, she thought. Not teachers. Which left only one option.

The closet door split open. Cunningham crowed his triumph and plunged into the black depths before Rainie could stop him. Then he froze her heart with a cry.

"Oh my G.o.d! There's a kid in here!"

Walt and Emery rushed forward. Rainie pushed them back.

"Let me check it out," she said tightly.

"Jesus, Walt, you've already used up your nine lives."

She stepped into the walk-in closet, blinking three times as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Cunningham was in a corner, leaning over a little girl who had scrunched herself into such a tight ball that Rainie could make out only her golden blond hair. Then the child looked up. Rainie knew her instantly.

"Becky O'Grady! Oh honey, are you all right?"

Rainie motioned for Walt and Emery to enter, then holstered her gun and fell to her knees in front of Shep's youngest child. At first glance, Becky seemed to be fine. Rainie ran her hands down the little girl's arms, searching for any signs of injury. No cuts, no bruises. No signs of powder burns or bullet holes, or G.o.d knows what under these circ.u.mstances. Then she noticed the gla.s.sy look in Becky's bright blue eyes. Carefully, Rainie drew her forward, and the little girl collapsed bonelessly into her arms.

Rainie rushed Becky out of the closet and laid her out on the cool floor. Emery took over.

"Dilated pupils," he declared.

"Lack of response. Can you tell me your name?"

Becky said nothing.

"Can you hear me?"

She remained silent, but when he snapped his fingers, she turned her head toward the sound.

"Shock," Emery said after a moment.

"Probably caused by the trauma. She just needs time."

Rainie hunkered down in front of the child, less convinced and still worried. Becky had a smudge of dirt across her nose, cobwebs in her hair. She was wearing a green Winnie the Pooh T-shirt, with Pooh and Piglet dancing and a caption saying how merry it was to have a friend. Rainie gently rubbed one of the sooty marks from Becky's cheek. She cupped a hand against the girl's pale face.

"Honey," she said quietly.

"How did you end up in the closet?"