"I woulda killed'em, but... That's easier." Carter muttered, groaning just slightly in pain as he was lifted back up and the two shuffled into the bank. Once set down, he huffed quietly and bit his lip just slightly as his fingers ran over the metal lodged in his right leg. "Damnit..." The colonel muttered, though when Horace told Greg he was on his own he raised his head to protest. However, before he could get a single word out, Horace had lifted him on his back. He managed a grunt of frustration, but sighed and hung on the other man's shoulders as he was lugged up the stairwell. Even if he'd said something, Horace was as hard headed as the came and it would be too much work convincing him to go with Greg.

Upstairs, when he was set back on the ground Carter went to work. First, he laid Greg's pistol on the ground and pulled his entrenching tool out of its sheathe. He cut lengthwise down his pant leg from the wound and then removed the cloth below it. Carefully, he sliced the cloth into strips and tied one tightly around his leg above the wound. He'd remove the metal chunk soon, though he stopped to look up at the psycho he was stuck with. "You should have gone with him... It's safe here and I can still shoot straight." With his objections known, he shook his head and sighed. "See if you can find a medical kit somewhere... I need something clean to bandage this with if I'm gonna pull it out."