Chapter: 24
Most people don’t know the first thing about grenades.
They think that a grenade explodes, James Bond gets up, brushes off his still immaculate tux, grabs the girl and saunters away for another martini. I wish I were James Bond.
In reality, the grenade explosion isn’t all that big a deal. It’s just used to shatter the metal casing into a million fast-moving, knife-edged shards of death that rip through thin pseudo-concrete shells like wet tissue paper.
The kill radius on the average grenade is about three to five meters. I was further away than that. Not far enough.
Pieces of shrapnel hit my jacket and pants. My spell worked clothing did its job, taking the momentum and spreading it out over a wider area and greater time. Instead of a sharp piece of metal that would go rig
