at a time. The attempt to crawl back to the station ended in a gurgled scream. Apparently, shock only extended so far. 

It felt like I ripped my torso from my waist. But I had to move. The alternative of staying there and being the prize for whatever won was far less appealing than all the pain movement caused. I gritted my teeth and I pulled my body one slow, agonizing foot at a time. I wasn’t going out like that. I wasn’t going to die in some dirty, garbage, rat infested subway tunnel. 

I’d barely gotten a couple of feet when something rustled behind me. Another cry of pain ripped from my throat when that something picked me up. I barely twitched my finger against the trigger when whatever held me removed the weapon from my hand. Tears of frustration esc...

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