John Doe’s torso was a nest of bullets, over a dozen lead pellets shot from two feet away. The moment Doe got off the ambulance, Joseph Sakran rushed him to the operating room and slashed through his abdomen. Doe’s innards were obliterated, covered by a mixture of stool and blood.
Sakran collected himself; he just had to control the contamination and stop the bleeding.
But then Doe’s heart stopped. Sakran pulled out of his abdomen and shucked Doe’s chest open like a clamshell. Without a word, he stuck his hand inside and began wringing the flagging muscle, trying to coax it back to life.