"John! Don�t! They�ll kill you!" George shouted at him.
John struggled to break free. "I don�t care, I have to do somethin�!" Dragging the other two along with him, he moved to the edge of the stage.
Ringo exchanged a glance with George; they both seemed to be thinking the same thing: when the bloody hell did he get so strong?!
George, hampered by the guitar that was still around his neck, let go of John and practically tore the instrument from his body.
As Ringo held onto John, George carelessly threw the guitar aside and tackled John. They fell down in a heap, John at the bottom, George on top.
"Aye, get off me!" John shouted, trying to push his two band mates off him.
"John, leaping in after Paul is not going to do either of us any good!" George yelled in John�s face. "You�ll both be killed�" he added more quietly.
John stopped struggling as his brain registered what George had just said. He sighed, knowing he was right. "Bloody hell. Alright, get off me, you queers!"
George and Ringo got up, allowing John to stand up too. John glanced at the spot where Paul had been swallowed up and suddenly dashed to one of the microphones on the stage. He grabbed it and started to shout in it. "Leave Paul the fuck alone! Get away from him!" He repeated this several more times, his shouts each time growing more desperate.
He was relieved to see part of the crowd trying to comply. They tried to back away from somewhere in the centre, only to be pushed back by fans behind them, who were desperate to catch a glimpse of the fallen Beatle. He could see a few birds trying to form a protective circle around something on the ground, that something apparently being Paul. But they were attacked by dozens of other birds who wanted to get near him.
John�s relief turned into dismay as he watched. "Christ, it�ll be a massacre�" he muttered.
As he continued to peer into the crowd, he could see Mal and Neil running around like crazy near the exits. He assumed that they too were trying to find Paul.
Paul was in agony. His entire body ached; he�d lost count of how many times he�d been stood on. Some girls had tried to help him up, but they had just been pushed down on top of him. Numerous hands were still pulling at him, almost tearing him apart. He was being crushed and it was getting so hard to breathe�
A sudden kick to his head caused black dots to dance in front of his eyes. He threw up his uninjured arm to try to protect his head and desperately tried to suck in some air, knowing he was on the brink of unconsciousness. However, to no avail. Moments later he went lip, no longer feeling or caring what happened to him.
"Look!" Ringo suddenly pointed. "The police are finally getting somewhere!"
"It�s about fuckin time!" John said.
Sure enough, the ten thousand fans were slowly herded to the exits and the police gained more ground.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please be so kind as to move towards the nearest exit, calmly and slowly," a voice from a loud speaker echoed around the stadium.
"Fuck slowly," John muttered, peering into the diminishing crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of his fallen band mate.
Finally, the retreating crowd revealed still bodies across the floor here and there. Most of them were already getting up or were just crying hysterically. However, there was one shape lying deathly still, curled up into a protective ball, one arm protecting its head, the other outstretched.
John, George and Ringo recognized the figure instantly. "Paul!" they shouted anxiously. This time George and Ringo followed John as he jumped off stage and rushed over to the still figure.
As they drew nearer, Ringo pulled in a sharp breath. Only thin strips of clothing still covered the upper part of Paul�s body. His bare skin revealed numerous bruises and scratches which looked like they�d been made by finger nails. Blood flowed copiously from a huge gash in his arm.
They knelt by his side and hesitated. What were they supposed to do?
"Paul?" Ringo asked quietly.
No response.
"We�ve got to get him a doctor," George said, panicking. Ringo and George looked at John, who was staring stonily at Paul�s battered body.
Ringo put a hand on his shoulder. "John? I�m going to see if I can get him a doctor, alright?"
John didn�t respond or show any sign of understanding.
Ringo looked at George, who shrugged and looked worriedly at Paul�s pale face. Ringo gently squeezed John�s shoulder. "It�ll be all right, John," he said. He met George�s eyes, telling him to stay with John and Paul. Knowing there was always a doctor on call at a stadium or theatre during big concerts, he dashed off.
