The Once-ler snorted slightly at Lingormr’s words. “Yeah, no thanks to you.” Even in his injured state, he wasn’t ready to just give in. That wasn’t how he had launched his multimillion-dollar enterprise. It wasn’t how he had survived through a year of regret and loneliness.

Another gunshot, and then Soma was beside him, asking him if he could stand. “I think so. Just a misstep, that’s it.” Probably. He could hold out until they got to the x-ray room; it couldn’t be too far now….

“We’re done here.”

He stared at Soma in shock. “What? No, we’ve gotten this far and I’m not about to have been stabbed for nothing!” He bunched up the bottom of his t-shirt and press it against the stab wound at his waist. Giving up the cure for a man she had just met was ridiculous.

“Look,” he started rolling the fabric on his injured leg up, intending for it to serve as a temporary bandage. “This is a medical wing, right? There’s got to be a first aid kit around.” The Once-ler hissed as he pressed the roll of fabric against the slash on his leg. That would probably slow down the bleeding somewhat. “I’m not gonna die from a few cuts. Believe it or not, I’ve been closer to death before.”

He got to his feet slowly, putting his weight on his uninjured leg and resting a hand on Soma’s shoulder to steady himself. “It’s not too far now, we’ve still got a shot at this.”