8:00 P.M.

that could affect my ER,

you have a responsibility to tell me.

- I don't want to get anyone in trouble.

- We received a call that her son,

David, has created a list of girls

he would like to eliminate.

- Who called you? - Dr. McKay?

- I know you all want information

about your friends and family.

If we get a match, we'll let you know.

- Can you tell me how my mom is--Trish?

She was shot in her arm.

Normal pupils, normal pulse.

- Brain injury? - No.

Maybe it's PTSD from what she's seen.

- Son, the ER's closed. - David?

- Mom? - You're the kid?

Hey! - David!

- Grab him! - Stop!

- This is fucked up. I didn't do anything.

- Then who shot all these people, huh?

My husband is dead?

- I'm so sorry. - We're so sorry.

- Vincent and Brian went to the festival together.

Is my brother okay?

I need security in here!

Where's my phone?

Oops.

[ankle monitor beeping, drill whirring]

- Are you going to get in trouble for that?

- Probably. - Robby!

Leah got shot! It's really bad!

- We were unable to get ahead of the massive blood loss.

We did everything we could.

She's dead?

Why couldn't you save her? This is what you do.

- Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

You got to go, man.

You got to go. You got to go.

Robby, Robby, wait!

Prep to intubate.

Ketamine and Roc on board.

- Chest tube is in. Hook me up.

- Yellow zone, we are running out of everything.

Only change bandages that are completely bled through.

Yo.

Overheard a nurse say the shooter's here.

Holy shit.

Oh, my God.

Sorry.

He's handcuffed, but he's in a room.

- He gets a room while the rest of us

are stacked up like firewood.

Sorry to interrupt.

- Anything you could tell us about the shooter?

Is he here? - Where'd you hear that?

Nurses be talking.

- I don't know anything about that.

- Yeah, let's keep the rumor mill in check.

The cops will alert us when they know something.

Uh, Dawn, how are you doing? Do you need anything?

- I'm better. Kind of hungry, though.

- Well, we can discontinue your IV,

give you a sandwich so your sugar doesn't tank,

and then you can go home. - Thanks.

But my phone died at PittFest, so I wasn't getting

any alerts from my glucose monitor.

What about me?

Can I go home?

- Since you OD'd, we need to keep you here

for a couple more hours, make sure

you don't need any more Narcan.

How's your pain doing, Buster?

- I mean, my arm still hurts pretty bad.

Hey, can I get a sandwich, too?

Uh, we can up your pain meds,

but you're on the list for the OR,

so we need to keep you NPO.

Meaning?

Nothing more to eat.

We'll keep you hydrated with IV fluids.

- Can I at least get a blanket? It's so cold in here.

Yeah, uh--

- All the blankets are in Pedes--

the morgue.

Rock Paper Scissors?

Shit.

- Dawn, I can charge your phone for you.

Thank you.

Fucking circus.

- Robby here? - No. Check trauma rooms.

- 500 cc's from the chest tube already.

We're out of O-neg again.

Hang the cell saver for autotransfusion.

- This is weird. - What?

- Shot in the chest, but nothing

out of the thoracostomy tube.

- You got through the pleura okay?

- Yeah, I definitely felt the lung with my finger.

- I lost the radial pulse. I got a femoral.

This guy's bleeding out.

Probably tore through the spleen.

How?

- Okay, nipples to navel is no man's land.

If he got shot while exhaling, the bullet possibly

passed below the diaphragm.

Start a second IO, transfuse two units O-positive.

Where's Robby?

Let's find him and call Walsh.

This guy needs the next OR immediately.

- Dana! - Yeah?

Have you seen Robby?

- I was about to ask you the same thing.

McKay! - Yeah?

You seen Robby?

Uh, no, not in Pink.

I was at the festival

with my husband and my daughter.

My husband is in a wheelchair from MS.

I did my best to protect him.

A bullet went through my arm and through his head.

The medics declared him dead.

What about your daughter?

What's her name? -

Morgan.

- Some family members are meeting in the cafeteria.

I can see if she's there.

- How do you deal with all this death and carnage?

I don't--

I don't know.

Any more Pleur-evacs in Pink?

- Maybe. - What do you need?

- A couple units of blood. - Good luck.

Princess.

Whoa.

- Sh'ma Yisra'eil...

Dr. Robby?

- Adonai. - Dr. Robby, you okay?

Eloheinu.

Adonai echad.

Barukh sheim

k'vod malhkuto.

You have to go. You have to go.

They need you out there.

We need you out there.

Okay, come on, give me your hand.

I can't.

You have to...

- Because if you don't, we're fucked.

Okay.

See you out there, Captain.

[door opens, indistinct chatter]

- Once your phone is charged and able to monitor

your blood sugar, we'll let you go.

Thank you.

- Any update on the guy who did this?

Nothing yet.

- I'm kind of glad I was out of it when the shit went down.

- You OD'd. You could have died.

You okay, Huckleberry? - Yeah.

You sure?

I know it's tough in there with all the bodies.

- Yeah. - Can I get help

with a pressure dressing here? - Yeah, I'm on it.

- 2 grams of Ancef primed for your leg guy.

With pleasure.

You okay, Dr. Robby?

Do you need something to eat or drink?

- No, no. I'm good. Thank you. Thank you.

Uh, Esme, your team's doing a great job

staying on top of all this.

- Um, I need another four of morphine here.

Yeah, coming right up.

Uh, yeah, that's two.

Tourniquet's down on MCI-9, looks dry.

Good job, Whitaker, Donahue.

Dr. King, keep it up.

- All right, maintenance fluids at 125 an hour for all NPOs.

- Heard. - Turn them down.

- Well, it looks like you have everyone tucked in,

Huckleberry. - Yeah.

We're getting there. - Well, I'm going to leave you

in charge of the boring Yellow stuff.

Where are you going?

- Get in on the Red Zone action.

Robby, are you okay?

Right.

Well, I got some good news.

County Public Health is sending out a truckload

of supplies from Magee-Womens and Mercy.

- Gloria, are we gonna have to call in more blood donors?

- Already done. - Donated.

I-I don't--

my blood, needles--

Choppers are coming

from blood banks in Erie and Youngstown.