Scalpel for the Syndicate

Thinking back on how ugly the fight had gotten, worry crept up on me. I moved carefully toward the man sprawled on the pavement and sucked in a breath. What hit me first was the patch of blood spreading fast across his stomach. I dropped beside him and felt for a pulse at his wrist, seeing how shredded his knuckles looked. "Sir, I'm a doctor. I need to pull your shirt up to help you." I told him. Wouldn't want him getting the wrong idea while he was nearly dead. "Mmm." He groaned, hurting too badly to say anything else. "I need you with me. I need you awake." I said while raising his shirt enough to expose a long, deep gash. Someone had to have stabbed him. I slipped off my cardigan and clamped it over the wound. At the same time, I dug through my purse for my phone and speed-dialed Celia. She finally answered after three rings. "Where are you? It's already 4:45, and Dr. Lena had to do a surgery witho-" "Celia, get an ambulance to the alley between the convenience store and the pet shop down the street." "What happened?" Celia said. "Are you okay?" "I found a man who's been stabbed. Hurry, he's losing so much blo-" I couldn't finish the sentence because the man snatched the phone out of my hand. "No hospitals." He shoved the words out through the pain. After hitting the end-call button, he sagged again, worn out by the effort it took.