breaks rib

I bent over her. Airway, breathing, circulation. I opened her mouth, tried to make sure it was clear. But it was pooled with blood.
I couldn’t see her then. Was weeping. I bent over her anyway, breathed into her mouth.
“Harry,” Butters said. His voice creaked.
I breathed in five deep breaths, tasted blood. “Keep the pressure!”
Butters knelt down, his body moving on autopilot, his face stunned. He put his hands over the pad, and I did compressions.
On an empty house.
I leaned down to breathe for Murphy again. Then more compressions.
“Harry,” Butters said. “Harry.”
Five breaths. Compressions. It was hard work. In a couple of minutes I felt dizzy as hell.
“Harry, you can’t,” Butters said. “You can’t.”
“Come on!” I screamed. “Murph, come on!”
I breathed for her again.
I broke her rib on the next compression.
But it didn’t matter.
It was nothing but an empty house.

Battle Ground Chapter 22, Page 205