Marlowe
I was in the middle of explaining a torque specification to Reid when the sound came from across the garage — a heavy, sudden thud that didn't match any ordinary workshop noise, followed immediately by a silence that raised every hair on my arms before I'd even turned to look.
Wrench lay crumpled on the concrete floor beside his workbench, motionless, a wrench still clutched loosely in one hand.
"Wrench!" I was across the garage before I'd consciously decided to move, dropping to my knees beside him, hands hovering uncertainly over his still form. "Wrench, can you hear me?"
His eyes fluttered, unfocused, and a low, pained groan escaped him, which felt, in that terrifying moment, like the single most reassuring sound I'd ever heard.
"Reid, get Preacher! Now!" My voice came out
