Ficlets

Gun

Drew looked at the smoking gun and the figure sprawled in the dirt in front of him. He felt his stomach churning and ground his teeth together to stop from vomiting.

It had to be done, he knew that, but now he had to run. The shot would have been heard and they’d be coming. He didn’t have any illusions that he would escape but maybe, just maybe, he’d give the others time to get somewhere safe.

Dropping the gun on the ground next to it’s victim Drew took to his heels, running deeper into the maze of tunnels. Behind he heard the sound of engines revving up.

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