‘You must stay there,’ she said, turning. ‘You must. You’l start the bleeding again.’
‘Help me up!’ he snarled. ‘Goddamn it! Do you want me to shoot you?’
She came over to him.
‘They’l hear you,’ she warned. ‘You must keep your voice down.’
He caught hold of her shoulder. His fingers felt the thinness of her. Her skin was tight over the bones.
He pulled himself upright and leaned heavily on her. He felt her wilt under his weight. She was only a tiny thing, he thought. Her head was just above his shoulder.
‘Get me against the wall near the door,’ he panted, ‘and then get out.’
A violent hammering sounded on the street door. A voice bawled, ‘Come on, open up!’
Baird felt a little trickle of sweat run down his face. Five minutes: no longer. Well, upright and on his feet, he wouldn’t go alone.
She helped him across the room and against the wall. The Colt hung heavily from his hand, too heavy to raise. He set his shoulders against the wall. The pain in his side made his breath hiss through his clenched teeth.