He stared at the cylinder, then glanced around—four bullets, five souls. Outside, they hear dead flesh scraping against the wood; shelter walls creaking under the strain. The group exchanged terrified glances, and his hand shook as he raised the gun.
Bang
Bang
Bang
Bang
He was alone, covered in the blood of others. Then he heard it: rescuers, their guns blazing and their voices so full of hope it made him want to scream. As they breached the bunker door, he looked down at his hands and realized he’d have to live with this—God, how could he live with this?
ns 15.158.61.54da2
