There's a gunshot.

Then there's another.

The park goes from serene to chaotic quickly. People run in different directions, dogs bark, and there are screams and shouts everywhere. Pandemonium is a human habit, fear and survival instincts override carefully practiced human propriety.

There's a child standing stock still with fear not ten yards from Arthur. Her brown eyes are wide. She's wearing a dress the same color as the sky and Arthur notices the balloon tied at her wrist is cherry red. There's no parent near to claim her. No person really paying her any attention at all, really.

Breathless, Arthur turns to Eames "Civilians," he says "We have to get this out of here, now."

Eames nods, leaning heavily against the tree they're ducked behind. His hand still covers where the second shot nicked his side. This park was a last ditch attempt to shake the men that had broken up a meeting with a would be client, using guns rather than words to translate their displeasure with the two dreamsharers.

Arthur and Eames don't get the chance to move though. They get boxed in. One after another their pursuers attempt to take them. They can't move a hand past the trunk of tree or else gun shots are rained down on them.

The little girl that Arthur spied kneels in a ball on the ground, crying. Her balloon bobs in the breeze. From where he is Arthur can hear that, between rounds of gunfire, her sobs are the only sound left in the park.

It's only minutes later when Arthur can dash to her, when Eames jerks a dagger into the last of their assailants, but Arthur still understands that it's minutes too late. There are police sirens in the distance. Still, no adult is running over to claim the girl.

One bullet, from one shooter, is all it had taken to hit one little girl. Arthur can see that she's not crying any longer, and her chest is lying still.

Her balloon lays popped on the ground, in pieces. Eames puts a hand to Arthur's shoulder and nudges the man away, towards the nearest park exit.