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Lockwood lost consciousness as they were dragging him back down the tunnel towards the catafalque. He was slung between George and Lucy, his head dropped to his chest, his feet dragging behind him in the dirt while Kipps ran ahead, lighting their way. When they reached the funerary slab Kipps hopped on top and reached down for Lockwood's arms, as George pushed from below and Lucy scrambled up beside them, grabbing for his collar. They each got him under an arm and hauled him up as gently as they could. Lucy laid Lockwood's head in her lap as George flipped the switch and levered himself on top as the device slowly began to rise.
Lucy smoothed some hair away from Lockwood's pale forehead as they inched agonizingly slowly up the dark shaft. The dark red stain on his shoulder was spreading outward at an alarming rate and the pulse jumping at his throat was fast and thready. She clung to his shoulders, anxiously gazing upward to the square of light far above. It was such a long way up there. How Lockwood hadn’t broken every bone in his body when he fell, Lucy couldn’t fathom.
And they were moving SO slowly. They didn't have time for this. Lucy's anxiety was building, warring with her exhaustion from this unending nightmare. She glanced over at George and Kipps and saw her fear and weariness reflected back at her.
As they neared the opening at last Lucy grabbed Lockwood’s arm, dangling limply over the edge, and laid it over his chest, lacing her smaller fingers through his long, slender ones. With her other hand she grabbed the end of his coat, hanging like a broken wing, and tucked it in so it wouldn't get caught in the tight clearance. She stared up at the square of light, growing bigger and bigger as they neared it.
And then they were through, and there were bright lights and shouting and Lucy winced, blinking, ducking her head against the cacophony. George did as well, but Kipps surprised them both by leaping off the catafalque and immediately barking orders to the crowd of people.
For a crowd it was. DEPRAC employees were milling about, some in hazmat suits, some in business suits. Kat, Ned, who was clutching an injured arm, and Bobby were standing anxiously in the corner, physically blocked by adults 'taking charge' but looking like they were about to start a coup and make a break for the catafalque. And striding through everyone, clearing the way like Moses parting the Red Sea, was Inspector Barnes.
Kipps pushed through the startled crowd, grabbed Barnes by the elbow and urgently whispered something to him. Barnes' head snapped up and he zeroed in on Lucy, eyes narrowing. She looked up at the same moment and saw Barnes' storm cloud face as he took in the sight of the three of them sitting on top of the black slab. The inspector muttered to Kipps who bolted from the room.
Barnes pushed through the rest of the crowd, most of them still seemingly frozen in shock at the sudden appearance of the dirty, bloody team of agents, and before Lucy could even say anything, before she could form a coherent thought, he scooped Lockwood up into his arms.
Lucy held on numbly for a long moment, unwilling to let go, to give him up to someone else. Barnes locked eyes with her.
"You've got to let me take him Ms. Carlyle."
Still she clung to the boy as if he were a life raft in the waves. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that Barnes needed to take him, that he was trying to help. But for just a moment she couldn't bear to let him go.
"Lucy," Barnes said gently. "I've got him."
Lucy's fingers uncurled reluctantly and then the weight in her lap was gone and her hands were empty.
****
Barnes strode down the mausoleum stairs, Lockwood dangling limply in his arms. Blood spattered the marble, dripping from the young agent’s bullet wound, leaving a macabre trail of breadcrumbs behind them as Barnes rushed towards the nearest ambulance, flashing like a beacon in the cold gray light of dawn. Kipps was ushering two paramedics from the cab as Barnes approached. The inspector gave him a curt nod that Kipps returned as he headed back towards the mausoleum to join his team, his face strained with worry. The paramedics flung open the ambulance doors as Barnes reached them and they took the boy from his arms. They laid Lockwood down on a gurney and began to work on him as Barnes perched one foot on the ambo step and peered over their shoulders. He watched as they rushed around the small space, inserting needles and taking vitals and looking reassuringly like they knew what they were doing.
As this was going on he heard raised voices and ruckus behind him and half turned to see the rest of Lockwood’s team rushing towards the ambulance.
“Keep them back,” he shouted, gesturing to two DEPRAC agents who stepped forward and blocked the teenagers’ approach. Barnes saw them arguing fiercely before they were forcibly removed to the mausoleum stairs where they sat sulking and craning their necks to try and see into the ambulance. Barnes shifted slightly to ensure their view was blocked. If Lockwood took a bad turn, he didn’t want the boy’s friends to see it. Another paramedic approached them and started treating their injuries, which seemed thankfully minor and Barnes returned his attention to the ambulance.
“How’s he doing,” he asked the paramedics after a few minutes.
“Stable,” one of them said shortly.
After several more minutes the other EMT turned to Barnes as she peeled off her bloody gloves. “He seems to be out of the woods, Inspector. But I do recommend he come to the hospital for monitoring and some x-rays. Some troubling bruises from an apparent fall. But miraculously, nothing appears to be broken, and we stopped the bleeding and stitched him up. The bullet was a straight through and through, missed anything important. This young man is very lucky.”
Lucky wasn’t necessarily the word Barnes would have chosen for Anthony Lockwood. He exhaled a shaky breath, belatedly noting that his hands were trembling slightly. He shook them out, flexing his fingers, trying to regain his composure. He told himself that almost losing an agent was traumatic and that it had nothing to do with it being THIS agent. It was simply the adrenaline of a close call, the natural worry he constantly expended on all the agencies under his jurisdiction. (Or even those he had no control over…)
Feeling responsible for the lives of children was an unfathomably heavy burden. It got to him, wore him down. That was all.
But this boy.
What was it about this boy? Another close call. How many times would he throw himself into harm’s way? Surely he was shortening the average life expectancy of the agent with his antics. Though, Barnes had to begrudgingly admit that getting shot probably wasn’t Lockwood’s fault. Then again, with the way he goaded people…
“Looks like he’s waking up,” the other EMT said, interrupting his ruminations. “Would you like to hop up and question him now, Inspector?”
Barnes didn’t necessarily want to do that but he gave a curt nod and pulled himself inside the ambulance. The paramedic moved aside and Barnes took his place on a small bench. Lockwood was propped up on the gurney, blinking awake, wincing in pain as he regained consciousness. Barnes cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly and Lockwood’s eyes focused on him. The boy looked confused for a moment then his eyes flashed and he shot forward, crying out in pain at the motion. Barnes placed a hand on his chest and pushed him gently back down.
“Easy son.”
“Where are Lucy and George,” Lockwood asked urgently.
“They’re fine, they’re perfectly fine,” Barnes said, trying to sound reassuring and kind and less like…well, like himself. “Kipps is fine too, if you care,” he added with the hint of a smirk.
Lockwood relaxed back into the gurney, some of his tension releasing at the news. He laid his head back and his eyes slipped shut tiredly for a moment. Then he seemed to rally, and his eyes snapped open again. He glanced over at Barnes, pain shadowing his gaze briefly before he blinked it away.
“I suppose I have lots of paperwork to fill out Inspector, yes?” He raised his eyebrows cheekily.
Barnes shook his head ruefully. “That can all wait until tomorrow I think Mr. Lockwood. You need to go to the hospital and get checked out.”
“Nonsense, Barnes. I intend to go home. I’ll be fine there.”
Barnes opened his mouth to protest then snapped it shut with a roll of his eyes.
“There’s no point in even arguing with you, is there Mr. Lockwood?”
“Nope,” Lockwood said, full grin on display now.
Barnes stared at him levelly for a moment. Lockwood’s grin faded.
“I actually wanted to talk to you Lockwood.” Barnes cleared his throat. “About…the risks you’re taking.” Lockwood stiffened slightly as Barnes continued haltingly. “Look, if there’s something—”
“Alright, time to get this sling on,” the female paramedic interrupted as she stepped back up into the ambulance.
Barnes and Lockwood stared awkwardly at each other for a moment.
“Right,” Barnes said. “I’ll just catch up with you tomorrow then Mr. Lockwood.”
“I look forward to several stacks of forms, Inspector,” Lockwood said with a small smile.
They stared at each other for a long moment, a chasm of unspoken words between them. Then Barnes nodded. He reached a hand out and briefly squeezed Lockwood’s leg before hopping out of the ambulance. He locked eyes with an anxious looking Ms. Carlyle still waiting on the mausoleum steps and gestured to her and Mr. Karim.
“You can see him now.”
They scurried forward as Barnes strode away, his worries unsaid for the time being.