Bullets tore at Duncan’s kemeja as he sprinted across the warehouse. But he was sure none of them pierced his flesh, since he would have known about it… Unless he was just numb to the pain. Duncan tended to block the pain out when he was concentrating really hard. He finally made it safely across the room, and he didn’t bother checking the doorknob. He knew it was locked.
So, instead, Duncan flipped the gun in his hand so that he was holding the barrel. He reared his arm back and smashed the butt of the gun through the non-bulletproof window. Glass sprayed everywhere, slicing into his cheeks...
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