“Oh shit,” Tyler said.
With time and distance working against him, he tried to make a run for it. Only to realise that his leg was now at an unnatural angle. What the fuck is that thing?
“One,” Tyler counted, and considered reaching out for the grenade. No time! I need to get away from that thing!
“Two,” Tyler said, before he stood on his good leg.
He forgot that his other leg was broken and fell into an unplanned combat roll. Thank you, James T. Kirk!
“Three,” Tyler said upon reaching cover.
Unfortunately, he remained partially exposed. In the background, there came a loud whoosh that sounded a bit like a rocket launch.
“Four,” Tyler said.
He lay flat against the ground to minimise his profile. I hope this works!
“Five,” Tyler added.This time his count was bang on. The grenade’s blast was followed by searing hot pain. His exposed legs were torn up by shrapnel, but at least he was conscious. That means I’m alive? Right?
Disclaimer: This excerpt from The Van Helsing Impetus is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. The image is sourced from Pixabay.
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