Abby instructs Neela to use the color-coded slips of paper to mark the condition of each person. Red is urgent, black is dead, and green and yellow don't really matter because none of those people is going to get treated in the next half-hour.
Susan weaves through the hospital, seemingly finished up with Half-Crike. Either that, or he was like, "Go, it's fine, Reefer Madness can roll me a joint big enough to plug this thing." She runs outside in a confused haze and sucks in a sharp breath when she takes stock of Chopper's flaming carcass. Coop screams for a backboard. A woman whose legs are crushed is groaning. "Did they pull anyone out?" Susan asks Abby worriedly. "Not yet," Abby says. She gives Susan the bullet on this woman -- her name is Reina and she came in for heart failure. And if she hadn't, Hellfire From Above would've induced its rapid onset. "Hurts quite a bit," Reina says politely. Everyone around her groans, and I know it's not at her bravado, but it should be.
Olaf and Brumhilde are hurt. We don't really stay with them, though; Susan bends over Reina again instead. Abby notices that Susan is struggling to maintain her cool. "Susan, go inside. We've got this covered," Abby says quietly. Susan shakes her head and continues giving instructions for Reina's treatment, but her voice breaks and she's barely able to suppress her tears, and it's a pretty wonderful scene for Sherry Stringfield. ["I am not too proud to say she and Donal Logue totally choked me up throughout this episode." -- Wing Chun] Susan's grief is palpable, as is her fight to control it. Maybe she's just upset that yet another love interest is being unceremoniously yanked away from her. "You okay?" Reina asks her, which is very thoughtful, considering Reina's the one with a crushed body. "It's just the smoke," lies Susan emotionally. The Drums Of Damn I Wish I Hadn't Treated Chuck Like Crap The Last Time I Saw Him beat energetically through Susan's pain.
Judy screams himself silly up in ICU, because he's not sure what else do to, because the hard restraints bar him from doing anything really useful like running away or flailing or looting. Predictably, Luka can't find the key to free him. Delectably, Luka has gotten all wet, drenched by the emergency sprinklers. God bless you, emergency sprinklers. Long may you douse my Croatian love slave.