" He pressed a finger to her carotid and swore.
She was dead.
His target.
Dead.
Not on his watch was she gonna stay that way.
“You’re not dying today, lady.” He grabbed the switchblade knife from his jean’s back pocket, flicked it open, then cut down the front of her sweater. He pocketed the knife and clasped his hands together, then laced his fingers and pressed the heel of his hand to the middle of her sternum and began compressions. "

― Ashley Nikole , Fallout