I’ll tell you right now, it wasn’t heroics—ain’t no one on this earth worth dying for. It’s only pure instinct that I pushed Jack out of the way, and pure stupidity that I fell into the way of the bullet.
I watch Jack turn, and fire off a round from where he lands on his side. One shot, two shots, and then he’s up on his feet walking forward, unloading his gun into Ferret Man, the body convulsing and spraying red with each impact.
The gun empties, but Jack doesn’t stop firing. I hear the click, click of an empty chamber. It’s not until Sanchez walks up, a careful hand on his shoulder. “It’s done. He’s dead. He’s dead.”
Jack finally lowers his gun. A silence falls, and I can hear the panting of my own breathing.
A pain I hadn’t known existed stabs through my side. Burn. Burning so hot,
