Eight feet. After days of walking and so many senseless deaths, that was all that was left. I pulled away, clawing at the ground. Everything hurt. It didn’t matter. I only had a few more feet.
I did what I could to hold him down as I moved. It worked, but it didn’t work for long. I was still five feet away, and I needed more time.
“No!” Rose screamed.
That couldn’t be good. He had to be getting up. Four feet away, I heard a click. I stretched out my arm. I was still short. Three feet, maybe.
Using every ounce of strength I had, I kept moving. I was burning to know what was going on behind me. I wanted to look, but I knew I couldn’t take my eyes off the gun. I was close. Perhaps two feet, maybe less.
It soon became clear to me what the click was. The click was the beginning of my end.
