Countdown✔️

CHAPTER 05: The Low Down

"We've got wounded incoming!" Allan shouted as he walked with Callie down the long corridor to the medical bay aboard the Atonement.

They'd patched Greg and Callie up as best they could on the speedship, but it just didn't have the same capabilities as a full cruiser. Ahead of him, Donovan and Drake were carrying Greg, who had fully passed out again. Scans of his abdomen had revealed that one of his kidneys had been hit. Genevieve had already disengaged from the group, going off to meet with Hawkins and deliver the data. As they entered the infirmary, Allan saw a small squad of med-techs and Eve waiting for them. No doubt she was going to worry over Greg the same way he was worrying over Callie. She'd been shot in the shoulder and they'd had a hard time stopping the bleeding. He followed her over to an examination table and watched as she laid down.

Callie gave him a tired smile as the nearest med-tech set in on her arm, running a scan of it. Allan watched as Drake and Donovan laid Greg out on a hover-gurney. "We've got to get him to surgery right away," one of the med-techs said after doing a quick scan of his stomach. Two med-techs rushed him out of the infirmary, through a door in the back and into a surgical bay. Allan turned his attention back to Callie.

The medic was injecting something into her arm, around the site of the gunshot wound, which looked very nasty against her pale skin, which was even paler than usual. A local anesthetic. Allan walked around the other side of the examination table and took her hand. He caught movement off his peripheral and glanced over. Drake was walking out of the room. Donovan sat down on one of the examination tables and was tended to by one of the med-techs. Allan was at least glad he didn't have to do that, he'd been checked out on the ship and except for some bruising, he was okay. Donovan had been too busy helping them escape by co-piloting the ship. Allan turned his attention back to Callie. She squeezed his hand.

"I'm okay," she said. "I've been shot worse than this. You should go check on Greg."

"I'm sure he'll be okay," Allan replied. "We had a close call this time."

Callie frowned. "Yeah...that guy. He was something else. Really fast. Faster than all of us. I feel like, I don't know, something was off about him."

"Like what?" Allan replied, but he had a feeling she was right.

"Don't know. He was too fast. Too quick." Callie winced.

"Hold still," the medic murmured.

"Sorry...go check on Greg, okay? I'm really tired. I want to rest my eyes a moment, okay?" Callie asked.

"Okay," he replied. Allan leaned down and gave her a quick kiss, then straightened up and made for the far door, which he knew led up to an observation deck that overlooked the surgical bay. He found Eve standing at the glass wall, staring intently into the room below. He crossed the room and came to stand next to her.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"They have to do a transplant," Eve replied. "It's going to take about two hours."

"Did they find a donor? It takes something like three days for organs to be cloned, and that's a rush job," Allan replied.

Eve shook her head. "No, Hawkins had all of our organs cloned and put on ice as soon as we joined up. Several copies for each," she replied. "He figured we'd need something like this sooner or later, given our line of work. They say he should be out for six hours, going through an accelerated recovery trial. He should be ready to head back out into the field ten hours from now."

Allan let out a low whistle. "That's nuts," he muttered. "Shot twice through the kidney and he'll be up and ready to run and gun in ten freaking hours..." Eve didn't say anything in response. He glanced over at her. She was hugging herself tightly, even more pale than usual. "Are you okay?" he asked, glancing back down at Greg, lying on the examination table while a small team of surgical staff went about replacing his kidney.