Just when my feather-fragile grasp on consciousness feels like it's going to slip away for good, a new sound reaches me through the hazy miasma - thundering cadences of heavy ordnance and familiar rallying cries. Greg must sense the shift too because his stride breaks into an even more punishing tempo.
"That's it, little rose...our brothers and sisters have the exit covered!" he bellows over the shrieking cacophony, the words rattling my brain inside my skull. "Just a little further and we'll be through the worst of it, I swear to you!"
Somehow, I force my eyes to unstick, blearily making out the telltale silhouettes of resistance fighters laying down a blistering cross-fire up ahead. Blistering flares of plasma streak past with each pounding footfall as Greg navigates the deadly gantlet
