Malik stared at Janelle’s body on the ground.
His own chest burned, his legs shook as he tried to stand.
“No,” he whispered.
“No, no, no.
” He pushed himself up against the wall.
Pain shot through him, but he moved anyway.
One step, then another.
The crowd barely noticed him until he forced his way through.
“Move,” Malik said.
Someone snapped.
“What are you doing?” Malik ignored them.
He bent down beside Janelle, his hands trembling, her breathing was wrong, weak, fading.
“The hospital is two streets down,” someone said.
