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him even before he fell. They lowered him to the ground and began stripping off his coat. Blood was spilling everywhere.
"Passed right through him!" one of them called out. "He's bleeding buckets!"
Overton strode over to the wounded man, but the surgeon didn't bother to follow. From his experience, he knew Dickinson would die from such a wound, no matter what anyone did. And he had his own principal to attend to.
"Let me see your wound, General," he said quietly. "You were hit, I believe?"
The general took his eyes off the sight of his opponent, lying there on the ground. As always, the surgeon was struck by the color of those eyes. A sort of bright blue that wasn't particularly pale, but still always reminded him of ice.
The blue eyes were startled now. "I believe he did pink me a little. Forgot all about it."
He opened the coat. After some probing, the surgeon determined that Dickinson's bullet had broken two ribs and was buried somewhere in the general's chest.
He shook his head. "I don't think I'll be able to remove it. It'll be too close to your heart."
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