Cramer could feel blood draining from his head. It took a long time to die from stomach wounds, he knew. A long time. And even if they managed to put him together again he’d only have to face the cancer that was eating him up. He clasped his hands to his stomach. He bit down on his lower lip to stop himself from screaming, the pain was so bad. He tried to fight it, to push the agony away, but each wave was stronger than the previous one. He tasted blood in his mouth and realised he’d bitten through his lip. He felt something warm and wet trickle through his fingers. He looked down. His thighs were soaked with sticky red blood, his own blood mixing with Jackman’s. Su-ming put her head against his, as if trying to share his suffering.
‘Su-ming, you have to help me,’ he said. Another wave of pain washed over him and he grunted. Even with the painkillers he’d taken, the pain was almost more than he could stand, and he knew it was only a taste of what lay ahead of him.
‘I will,’ she promised.
‘It hurts,’ he moaned. ‘It hurts so bad.’
‘I know,’ she said.
Cramer watched Su-ming in the mirrored wall as she went over to Jackman’s body and picked up his gun. She stood staring at the weapon as if she wasn’t sure what to do with it. She looked up and for a second their eyes locked in the mirror. She was crying. Cramer looked away. ‘There’s no need to cry,’ he said.
She nodded. A tear rolled down her left cheek and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. ‘I know,’ she said.