[He follows, but slips out of her grasp momentarily to retrieve the PPK, and pass it off to her.] Keep it cool, Goldie. That's a PPK, not a P-38. Eight shot--with five left now. Don't lose it, or else I'm really a deadman walking here!

[The path seemed to be clear for the moment, which was itself a relief. Though he wanted to stop, wanted to assess the damage to his shoulder before he unknowingly made it worse, he knew that their best chance at safety was going to be in the infirmary.

They had to keep cool, and keep running.]