Chapter 318

CARSON HAD EXHAUSTED HER mediocre medical knowledge. Now all she could do was keep Frankie comfortable as she whimpered in pain.

The few things Carson knew were that the bullet must have bounced off the wall or floor, then hit Frankie in the lower back to the left of her spine. There was only one wound, so her television doctor degree told her the slug was still in there and if they didn't get Frankie help soon she could die. What TV hadn't prepared Carson for was the slow, oozing way the wound bled. It was always so fast on shows.

"She's burning up," Mom whispered. She'd screamed herself hoarse at the door yelling for help earlier.

"I don't know what else to do." Carson kept her hands pressed tight to Frankie's back.

Dad stroked Frankie's wild hair off her face.

They had no options. No hope. Nothing.

Unless one of them got out of here.

She stared at the impossibly small window.

If there was a will, there was a way.