One In The Barrel

It’s over, I’m surrounded.

I check my magazine. Last shot. Incendiary round.

The savages who’ve got me pinned down in this old, oil refinery would swarm the perimeter soon enough and capture me. They’d kill me, rape me and skin me for their own pleasure.

Preferably in that order.

I had one bullet left and I wasn’t wasting it on them.

I put the barrel of my lucky pistol under my chin as I stare at the barrels of combustibles surrounding me.

A smirk. My momma ain’t raised a quitter.


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