COLD REVENGE

Edison and his team had enjoyed the scumball game. Murray had been rather impressed with Mark Mason's performance. Even Bryce, who Edison had to drag kicking and screaming out of his studio, had enjoyed himself.

They were crossing the parking lot along with their pal Rik, who had joined them at the game, when a gunshot rang out. Just one.

Bryce screamed as he fell. Theora dropped to her knees beside him, seeing the blood that was soaking into his t-shirt. Edison spotted the gunman and gave chase along with Rik while Murray called for an ambulance.

"Bryce," Theora said. "Hang on. Help is on the way."

Edison caught up with the gunman and tackled him to the ground.

"Why?" he demanded.

The man looked up at Edison. "My wife was killed by those blipverts your channel aired. His fault."

"That was an unforeseen side-effect, you idiot," Edison growled. "And he was instrumental in exposing the truth and having them stopped."

"He's a murderer," the gunman growled. "He deserves to die."

"Didn't you hear what I just told you?" Edison said, his glare deepening as the ambulance arrived. "It's not his fault. The effects were unexpected. What you did was deliberate."

Rik crouched beside them. "I'll get this guy to jail. You go and be with Bryce. He needs you more than this son of a bitch."

"Thanks, Rik," Edison said as he stood up and returned to the rest of his team who were seeing Bryce into the ambulance.

As soon as Bryce was in the ambulance, Edison and his team got into Rik's rickshaw and raced to the hospital. When they arrived, Murray went to the receptionist's desk.

"One of our co-workers was brought in just now by ambulance," he said. "Bryce Lynch."

The receptionist looked at the paperwork on her desk, then picked up the phone. "There's a man here about Bryce Lynch. Yes, doctor." she hung up the phone. "The doctor will be with you shortly. Please have a seat."

Murray joined the others. "The receptionist says the doctor will be out in a little bit. We just have to wait until then."

Edison nodded, his jaw clenched, and sat on one of the chairs, picking up a magazine that had been there since before Bryce had been born.

"A magazine," Murray said. "I didn't think they made those anymore."

"They don't," the receptionist told him. "We keep them around to give the room a quaint old fashioned look. We find it helps the patients and their families relax. Most people don't even know what they are."

After a few more minutes, the doctor finally came out of the emergency room. "Mr. McKenzie?" he asked Murray. "I understand that you're the one responsible for the members of this group?"

Murray frowned, he didn't like hospitals and this made him irritable. Still, the doctor was correct.

"Yes, that is correct."

"Well, I just want to tell you that your young co-worker is going to be just fine. We removed the bullet which was lodged in the center of his breastbone. I've never seen anything like it. If that gunman had been a little closer, that bullet would've pierced his heart. Mere distance saved his life."

"When can he have visitors?"

"Tomorrow," the doctor told him. "He needs to rest for now. I will tell him that you asked about him and that the three of you will be here tomorrow morning after breakfast."

Murray nodded, then returned to where Edison and Theora were waiting.

"Where's Rik?"

"Vending machine," Theora told him. "What did they say?"

"It was a close call," Murray told them. "But he's going to be okay. We can visit him tomorrow morning."

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