He expected someone to shoot... but he anticipated the wrong person. Just as there was a flicker of movement, he ducked aside, firing a shot at Undertaker... but he had lept in the wrong direction. His ear was hurting. His senses felt numb. He brought his hand up to the side of his head, and when he brought it down, it was stained with blood.
Undertaker seemed to be down too, but not dead... as far as he could tell, no one was dead. It was hard to think, with this numbed pain in the side of his head... thankfully he had jumped, or his entire head would be gone.
There was still someone else. He could tell. When someone is going to die, somehow, the body wants to observe every little detail. Someone was still moving. Behind him. Could it be the guy with the crossbow?
He let himself stagger to the opposite end, kicking a gun off the edge accidently. Then, he fell off. There really was a window ledge, and he dragged himself in. Hopefully, whoever had the crossbow would kill someone else first, giving him time to recover. He closed the small window shut and staggered to a corner.
The last thing he remembered was using a large strip of cloth torn from his shirt to bandage his head as tightly as he dared. Only the window was open- the door was already locked, and it looked thick from his point of view.