Rifle fire cut effortlessly past Kerry’s head as she ducked around the corner. Collapsing to the floor, Kerry cracked the back of her head against the wall. Loud rifle shots sounded in her ear. Marcus was next to her, firing back at their pursuers. It didn’t make any sense. Her muscles were all quivery and weak, darkness threatened the edges of her vision, but the rest of the world was intensely bright. Kerry’s right arm didn’t seem to work, and it was wet. She looked down to see blood pouring from a massive red hole in her shoulder. Cold panic hit.

Shit. Shot. Shit.

Marcus kept calling her name and firing, but Kerry couldn’t get past the realization that she was spilling blood from a brand new orifice. Her partner turned briefly towards her, then back to holding off the attack. It was only a matter of time until he ran out ammo. They’d only brought the rifles along out of habit. Kerry wasn’t even wearing full armor.

They were so dead.

An annoying drone of words drew Kerry out of her cold panic. Marcus was in her ear over the comm, his voice low and even. Kerry. Respond. She picked out words, then phrases, and eventually found herself tuning into the entire dialogue. Kerry. I need you. Snap out of it. Kerry. You are bleeding. Stop the bleeding. We need to move. Kerry. Respond. Now.