I do, but she's hurt.

You hold your breath as you creep inside. The newly acquired pistol steadily points forward, its chambered, and the hammer is cocked back. You slowly scan the room, finding it looking exactly how you left it earlier that day, only it’s more menacing in the dark. Each of your breaths comes out as vapor, obscuring your vision in your search. Satisfied that the house is clear, you bring yourself to the basement, where Scarlet and the others should have been.

You open the door, and just as it creaks, there’s a burst of gunfire that rattles your skull as the door splinters with new holes. The rapid repercussion of bullets reminds you that it was an M16– something Scarlet had been hauling around. You swallow, adjusting your grip on your new pistol. “Scarlet? That you down there or what?”

“Jesus,” you hear her mutter. “What the fuck took you so long?”

“Angel was a little talkative, so I cooked up a story about you.”

“Christ,” Scarlet says. “Be smarter next time and knock, yeah?”

You roll your eyes and hesitate at the door. “You’re not going to shoot me, right?”

“Not this time,” she said. “Did I hit you?”

“Damn-near killed me, actually,” you sigh, feeling suddenly peaceful with the situation. Your nerves quickly relax, and the words rapidly come out of your mouth. “Enough about me, though. What did you do? All well?”

“No,” she says lower as you close the now-ruined door. “I’ve been patching myself up for the last few hours, actually.”

Scarlet is at the base behind a turned-over table. A few bodies are lying there in a pool of blood. However, you’re much more concerned about Scarlet and pay them little attention as you approach her. Scarlet has her shirt off and is only wearing her bra. Bright red on her abdomen is a drenched gauze. She’s also pale, and the glow of her eyes is weak.

“Scarlet–”

“Yeah, I know it doesn’t look good, but I think the bullet left the back, and that’s where most of the bleeding is,” she grunts as she moves a little forward. “Check how big the hole is because this hurts like a mother fucker to move.”

You quickly wrap around and see her skin torn around an exit wound. She’s blooding profusely– seeing all this makes your stomach drop. “Yeah, it’s a big hole.”

“Shit,” she says, leaning back. “You got that, or am I utterly fucked?”

As you drop it to retrieve your medical kit, your backpack kicks up dust. “I’ll do what I can.”

“What should we do then?” She sighs.

“One step at a time. Lean forward again.”

With a tight grunt, she leans forward to show you her gun wound. She leaks out more blood, and you drape a gauze over it. Your mind starts to work. You don’t notice how calm you are until she mentions it.

“Thanks for keeping your head leveled. I really thought I was going to die for a second,” Scarlet tries to laugh but quickly stops. “It hurts to breathe.”

“I’m not surprised. What’d you get hit with?”

“Some asshole with a pistol. I couldn’t tell what caliber. My lungs are inside, so I don’t think it was a 9mm,” she laughs again, but this time she jolts in pain.

“Relax,” your hands become damp and warm, “Listen, I can’t get you fixed on my own. I need to find someone that can do more.”

“Kenji,” she says suddenly. “He’s far, though.”

“Don’t mock me, but how about Angel?”

“He’ll ask,” she worries.

“You’ll live.”

Scarlet makes an uncomfortable grunt as you compress a gauze against her wound. “It hurts,” she whines.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her as you wrap around her to warm her. Already, you can tell how cold she is: “I need to get you out of her. Can you make it?”

“You make it sound like I don’t have a choice,” she swallows a scream. “You really can’t fix me here?”

You’re about to say no, but an odd feeling in your chest says otherwise.