Chris isn't sure too sure about the plan, it assumes they'd want him back. Or that he'd survive till they met up with whoever employed him.

"He's going to need medical attention," she mentions, slipping the back cover off the phone and prying the batter loose with her fingernails.

"We could try one of those smaller medical clinics in the city." Not many people around and most of them knew enough not to ask about a gunshot wound. Battery out, she slips the cover back on. "Some pain medication might help. Keep him awake so we can ask more questions."