“Call an ambulance. Someone’s been hurt.”
Marcus burst through the doors of the gas station; the bright lights irritating his eyes. He laid Mary down on the tiles and pressed his jacket against her leg.
“It’s okay, Mary. I’ve found help.”
But she only mumbled in reply, her eyes closed and her face drenched in sweat. The blood, having already soaked through the fabric, now pooled onto the floor.
Marcus called again.
“Hello?”
No response.
Then finally, footsteps. A sign of life. Marcus felt a wave of relief.
Until another noise followed, metal against tiles. The dragging of an axe.
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