Judah hadn’t heard a shot, but that didn’t mean that it hadn’t happened. Silencers were common, since they didn’t attract the stiffs as easily because the lack of noise. “Was it just the two of out here?” He was already halfway to kneeling opposite the redhead. Cursory observation lead him to conclude that the woman with the gunshot wound was a lost cause; she was aspirating on something, with the way she was struggling to breath. “Besides the shooter,” he added.
What had they been doing out here? Didn’t look like they’d been scavenging. A walk maybe? Guess it was something he could ask later.
“What’s her name?” he asked instead of verbalizing the internal commentary he’d been going through, or the snarky comment that surfaced at the woman’s statement that she didn’t know what she was doing. That was pretty obvious. He pushed the woman’s hands out of the way to get a better look at what they were working with. Entry looked clean, close range though.
Close enough to tell that she hadn’t been a dead one, but the other woman had said it was an accident. Maybe a misfire of some kind? He’d ask the victim, but it was clear that she wasn’t going to be able to answer. She was already half-conscious, her eyes rolling a little.
Red wasn’t easy to read either. Judah wanted to believe her, but something just felt off. A sixth sense feeling more than anything else really.
Prodding at the edges of the wound, he considered only briefly whether or not he should check for an exit wound, but decided against the effort. “Do you know if there’s an exit wound?” he asked instead, applying some gauze and pressure, which was really all he could do. He’d seen injuries like this before, she’d probably bleed out before anything he did would help. But it wasn’t in him to just watch her die. “Could be that the bullet got lodge in a lung. It sounds like it might’ve gone through one of her lungs at the very least.”