Gabe Wesley, who had slipped in just before the service began, was sitting in a corner on the back pew of the chapel. When the blast rang out, he jumped up, and amid shouts, screams, cries, and tears, he ran down to where Deuce was, knocking people aside, and roughly breaking into the circle around him.
“Is there a doctor in the house?” Gabe called out.
Just then a man pushed his way through the crowd carrying a doctor’s bag. He began pulling at Deuce’s clothes, checking his vital signs, and then administering CPR.
“Is he going to make it, doc?” Gabe asked.
“He needs more help than I can give him here. It looks like the bullet bounced off his ribs and lodged in his side. He’s got a chance if we can get help to him quick. Has anyone called 911?”
Gabe quickly pulled a cell phone out of
