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Moments Before...

He was alone and in a world of pain. He counted the bullet wounds and knew that he was going to be in a serious state if he didn't get medical attention soon enough.

Damn only one left and it's bent.

He took it out of the package and looked at it; the markings on the filter told him he might be able to use this. He crumpled the now empty pack and tossed it to one side. He fished out his lighter and lit the cigarette, and savored the smoke for a few moments before exhaling.

A black fly landed on his shoulder and he offered it a puff. The fly declined and headed off to parts unknown.

"Send help," Max called after it. Then muttered to himself, "I do need it."