He pulled out his hypo and switched vials to the alloy solvent which he shot directly into her bloodstream. Then he slapped a bandage on it and moved on. The explosions knocked him down as surely as if he'd been struck from behind with a kayak oar while riding the whitecaps with O'Brien on the holo-suites. He struggled unsurely to his feet, but his body wasn't working properly. His lungs didn't seem to be able to draw oxygen and his hearing was lopsided.
More explosions drown it out.
Bashir ducked with every distant blast. He craned his neck, whipped it around until the muscles screamed, but all he saw was Heironymous Bosch landscape of pallid corpses in ashy mud. He shouted her name, but only knew it from the burning in his throat. He couldn't hear his own voice. He bolted on unsteady legs across a sea of bodies, dismembered limbs, spilled intestines.