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A Prayer Before the...


Goner felt the bullet enter his side and he knew that he was going to be in a world of pain. He fell to the floor like a bricklayer dropping bricks into a barrel. He crawled the best that he could with the one good arm, behind a short wall.

"That makes four," he said to himself.

He knew that time was short; he had been in situations like this many times but this time it felt different. This time he tasted fear.
He couldn't move his left arm since it was dangling at his side, the bone was broken from a previous wound. Bullets skittled around him, trying to break away the barrier that he was trying to hide behind.

Damn, I don't want to die just yet. There's one thing more I would like to do.

He propped himself up against the wall and reached to see if another clip had magically appeared in his jacket pocket but he knew it hadn't. He ejected the clip from the gun and saw only one bullet left. He put the clip back into the gun, using his leg.

He coughed and spat out some blood.

Damn. Game over.