"Save your air, doll!" He bellowed. "I'm on my way."
And then someone else's voice broke through the sound of the fire and creaking, groaning metal.
Logan cursed vividly, then stopped to listen intently, finally picking up Bob's weakened heartbeat through the mass of chaos. He followed it ... and grimaced when he spotted Bob. He might not be a doctor or qualified as one, but he knew mortal wounds when he saw them. Bob was damn fucking near cut it /half/. That sort of shit a fully equipped hospital would maybe not be able to handle, nevermind a couple of doctors with only a few goodies between them.
"Fuck." He said quietly, then dropped down beside Bob. Couldn't even move the poor bastard. By the time Logan went and got one of the damn backboards from the hospital ... He glanced around, then shook his head. Nothing he could use here. At least, nothing he'd trust to bear the guy's weight.
And from the look of him, he knew he was a goner anyway. Logan took the note on the guy's forehead and gave it a wierd look.
"Bob? That yer name? You hurtin'?" If he was ... well ... Logan could end it, quick. Didn't look like the guy was, though. If he was, he'd be making a hell of a lot more noise.