Gunman’s bullets, fate turn strangers into lasting friends

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Dominica Zeolla/Instagram

Brad Powers and Dominica Zeolla became friends after both were wounded during the Oct. 1, 2017, mass shooting on the Las Vegas Strip.

Sun, Sep 30, 2018 (2 a.m.)

Before the gunfire erupted at last year’s Route 91 Harvest Festival in Las Vegas, Dominica Zeolla and Brad Powers were strangers. Afterward, they found their lives tragically intertwined. And today, they have forged a bond so close, they are practically family.

Zeolla, a dancer from Los Angeles, and Powers, an employee with the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department from Rancho Cucamonga, Calif., were among more than 800 people wounded in the Oct. 1, 2017, shooting that left 58 people dead.

They were enjoying an evening of country music — Jason Aldean was on stage — when a gunman opened fire on the crowd of 22,000 people from a hotel tower across the Strip. There was confusion at first, then terror and panic.

Zeolla was shot through the back, with a bullet piercing her lung. Powers was wounded in the pelvis and could not walk.

Their friends picked them up and loaded them into the back of a good Samaritan’s pickup truck, which trailed an ambulance to Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center.

Zeolla was unconscious for much of the ride and once they got to the hospital, Powers insisted she get medical attention first, although he also was badly wounded.

“She didn’t move or make a noise,” Powers said. “I was worried that she had already passed away. I was like, ‘Get her out of here now.’ I was more worried about her than myself or anybody else.”

The driver and passenger in the pickup grabbed a gurney, put Zeolla on it and wheeled her into the emergency room, where she underwent surgery to save her life.

Her mother, meanwhile, heard about the shooting and showed up at the hospital desperately looking for her daughter, fearing she was among those killed.

By chance, she ended up on an elevator with Powers’ mother. She mentioned her daughter’s name, which Powers’ mother recognized.

“Dominica?” Powers’ mother exclaimed.

“My mother said, ‘That’s my daughter; we thought she died,’ ” Zeolla said, recounting the story she was later told. “His mother told her that I was upstairs.”

After she got out of surgery, Zeolla remembered little about the ordeal — or Powers. “Who is Brad? I don’t know these people,” she said.

Her mother told her about what her friends did, and the ride to the hospital, and Powers. And later, Zeolla and Powers met in a hospital room, where they shared a hug.

“Ever since then, Brad’s been like a big brother to me,” Zeolla said. “We became friends and family.”

A year later, they keep in touch regularly on the phone and through social media. They also meet from time to time, trying to stay in contact with each other as much as possible.

They are both still recovering from their injuries — physical and psychological.

Zeolla undergoes physical therapy weekly and takes medication to manage lingering anxiety, especially around large crowds.

“That’s my life now,” she said. “I just try to be thankful that I’m still here.”

Powers, meanwhile, is walking again and has returned to work. But he describes his recovery as “an optical illusion.”

“I still can’t feel from my knee cap down to my toes,” Powers said.

“I take 20 medications on a daily basis. I’ve attended counseling. There’s a ton of stuff that I had to do. It’s ongoing; it never ends.”

But, he said, “I’m not going to let what happened put me down. ... I want to be there for my kids, my family and my job. And I’m going to keep going.”

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