Blaine's POV

But somehow it wasn't enough. Somehow, I rise to my feet, supported by Aylin and Blake. I hobble into a quiet, cramped shaft. We pant heavily, our breath lingering in the air, the distinct taste of blood sticking in our mouths. I'm not dead. I find it hard to come to terms with. Should I be relived, or happy? I hope not, because then I'm living a lie. I was ready, and still am. Another day is to much to handle, tomorrow can't show it's ugly head while I'm still alive. I am not going to put up with this. I spot another piece of looted weaponry in Aylin's pocket, where the grenade I used was hidden. I take it, snatching it off a quizzical Aylin. But she's not stupid. Close your eyes, hold your breath, and count to three. 1, 2,

BANG!