Echoes

Chapter 39

Emily's body trembled as she clung to Sean, the horror of what had just happened settling over her like a suffocating blanket. Blood seeped through her fingers as she pressed down on Sean's wound, her hands shaking uncontrollably. The chaos of the moment blurred everything around her—the sounds, the sights—until all she could focus on was Sean's labored breathing.

The old man, who had welcomed them into the house, came running in, his eyes wide with panic as he took in the carnage before him. His gaze darted from Elizabeth's lifeless body to Charlie's, now still on the floor, and then to Emily and Sean. Without a word, he rushed to Sean's side, dropping to his knees beside them.

"God, no," the old man whispered, his voice cracking as he checked for pulses, first Elizabeth's, then Charlie's. His hands shook as he reached for Sean's wrist, feeling the weak, erratic throb of life still there. Relief flashed in his eyes, but only for a moment.

"Hold on, young man," the old man muttered, more to himself than to Sean, as he grabbed his phone and quickly dialed 9-1-1. His voice was steady, though the tension in it was unmistakable. "We need an ambulance, now. Gunshot wound. Address is—" He rattled off the location with practiced calm, though his eyes betrayed his worry.

Emily's breath came in shallow gasps, panic rising in her throat as she watched Sean struggle to stay conscious. His face was pale, his lips tinged with blue. "Sean, stay with me," she pleaded, her voice breaking. She could feel his life slipping away, and the thought of losing him was more than she could bear. "Please, stay with me."

Sean looked up at her, his eyes glazed with pain but still filled with that unyielding love she knew so well. He managed a weak smile, lifting a trembling hand to wipe away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. "It's okay," he whispered, his voice raspy and strained. He coughed, blood speckling his lips, and Emily's heart shattered at the sight.

"No, no, no!" Emily cried out, her voice frantic. She couldn't lose him—not now, not when they had so much ahead of them. Tears streamed down her face as she pressed harder on the wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.

Sean's smile didn't falter, though his strength was fading fast. He reached down, his hand trembling, and placed it gently on her belly. The touch was light, almost reverent, and his eyes softened as he whispered, "Hello, little one." His voice was so faint, Emily could barely hear him, but the tenderness in his words was unmistakable.

The reality of it all crashed down on Emily in that moment. The weight of what they stood to lose—what they could still have if Sean survived—overwhelmed her. She choked on a sob, nodding frantically as if to reassure both him and herself. "You're going to meet them," she promised, her voice shaking. "You're going to be okay, Sean. We're going to be okay."

The old man worked quickly, tearing fabric from his own shirt to help stem the bleeding. "You need to hold the wound tighter, just like this," he instructed, his tone urgent but gentle as he guided Emily's hands. "Keep talking to him, keep him awake."

Minutes felt like hours, but then the faint sound of sirens pierced the air, growing louder with each passing second. Relief washed over Emily, though it was tinged with fear. She couldn't bear the thought of losing Sean now—not after everything they had been through.

"They're coming, Sean," Emily said, her voice trembling as she leaned closer to him. She brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead, her touch tender and desperate. "Hold on, they're coming."

The old man glanced out the window, then back at Sean. "We need to get him to the front door," he said, urgency tightening his voice. He looked at Emily, his eyes filled with determination. "Help me lift him."

Together, they carefully lifted Sean, Emily supporting his upper body while the old man took most of the weight. Sean groaned in pain, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay conscious. Emily's heart pounded in her chest, her fear for him almost paralyzing, but she forced herself to move, to do what needed to be done.

As they reached the front door, the paramedics were already rushing up the steps. They took over immediately, lowering Sean onto a stretcher with practiced efficiency. Emily hovered close by, her eyes never leaving Sean's face as they worked on him. The paramedics cut away his shirt, revealing the extent of the damage. The blood had soaked through, but the relief in their voices was clear.

"The bullet went straight through," one of the paramedics said, nodding to his partner. "Looks like it missed the vital organs. He's got a good chance."

Emily's breath caught in her throat, hope flaring up inside her like a beacon. "You're going to be okay," she whispered to Sean, her voice thick with emotion. "You're going to be okay."

Sean's hand found hers, squeezing weakly as they lifted him into the ambulance. "Stay with me," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Please."

"I'm right here," Emily promised, climbing into the ambulance beside him. She kept her hand in his, refusing to let go.

As the doors closed and the ambulance sped away, Emily cast one last glance at the house, her heart twisting as she saw the police swarming the scene. She watched in horror as they zipped up a black body bag and wheeled it out to another vehicle. The finality of it hit her hard—Charlie was gone.

Tears blurred her vision as she turned back to Sean, focusing on him, on the life they still had ahead of them. "I love you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "We're going to get through this."