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CHAPTER 62:  TRINITY

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TRINITY HELPED GAAR to a chair and began fussing with his bandages. 

“I told you to stay,” grumbled Gaar.  “Why I’m surprised you didn’t listen to me, I don’t know.  You never listen, you stubborn, little fool.”

“He’s still bleeding.”  She ignored him, speaking to Curtis. 

“I think the bullet is still in his leg,” said the Guard.  “I wrapped it the best I could but we’re going to have to remove the bullet.”

“Leave it,” said Gaar.  “It’s fine.”

“No touch, Gaar-Mine.”  Mirra growled at them, baring her teeth.  “Gaar-Mine say he fine.  Gaar-Mine fine.” 

“I’m leaving this to you.”  Curtis backed away.  “It hasn’t been easy bandaging Gaar and keeping my hands attached to my arms.”

“Mirra, have you seen Sikka?  Hugh said she was shot when they were by the statues at the front of the building.”  Trinity pointed out the door.

“Gaar-Mine okay?  Mirra leave?”  Mirra’s eyes darted between Gaar and the door. 

“Yeah, find Sikka.”  Gaar sent Trinity a warning look.  “But Little One had better listen to me.”

“Of course, I’ll listen but”—she grinned—“like always, I’ll do what’s best.”  She patted Gaar on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll get you something to dull the pain.”  She headed toward a cabinet where she’d seen some bottles of alcohol while searching the room for weapons.  She smiled at Hugh as he approached.  He was so handsome and good and he was all hers.  A small flash like sunlight on glass drew her gaze past him.  Two Almightys struggled in the group of prisoners, a gun in their hands.  “Hugh!”  She leapt as a shot rang out, echoing through the building.

“Little One, no!” screamed Gaar.

She hit Hugh, knocking him to the ground as something slammed into her side.  Someone screamed.  Her body throbbed as she stared down at a confused Hugh.  Her vision blurred.  She touched her side and flinched.  Her hand was warm and sticky, the metallic odor of blood overwhelming the scent of gunpowder.

“Trinity?”  Hugh crawled out from under her. 

She tried to smile but her lips wouldn’t work.

“She’s been shot!”  Hugh’s face turned ashen as he pulled at her shirt. 

She reached up to touch him, her hand and fingers clumsy and full of blood.  She didn’t feel anything anymore, only cold and numb.  “Hugh.”  Her voice was barely a breath. 

“Hush honey, don’t talk.”  He kissed her quickly while pushing against her stomach.

She grimaced.  That she felt.

Gaar dropped to his knees next to her, dragging his hand across her hair in a caress.  “You Little Fool,” he growled.  “You’re supposed to jump away from the bullet not toward it.”

She blinked at her friend, his face worried and pallid.  “They...tried...shoot...Hugh.”

Curtis pushed Hugh’s hands aside and pushed up her shirt.  She should protest but she was too tired.

“Stay with me, Trinity,” said Curtis.  “You cannot go to sleep.” 

The Guard pressed against her side, but there was no pain, only blackness.