287

The harsh hammering of the clansman’s machine pistol is the last sound you will ever hear. Sharp, stinging cores of pain punch you repeatedly in the stomach and fearfully you clasp your hands to your midriff as you tumble backwards to the ground. Warm blood oozes between your fingers but although you are incapable of moving, you no longer feel pain. Aware that you have been shot, and that the shock of your wounds has numbed your senses, you close your eyes and wish yourself out of this nightmare.

The urge to sleep overwhelms you. Coupled with the creeping numbness that has spread through your body, you surrender to death’s timeless embrace.

Tragically, your journey and your life end here at Picacho.