Firefight
District 10, South Africa
June 11th, 2013
1310 Hours
When word reached Colonel George McTavish that there was trouble in District 10, the ex-SAS man wasn't sure on how to react. Part of him wanted to remain calm and collected and organize a means to combat the situation in an efficient and controlled manner. A conflicting part of his mind told him to hell with calm and collectedness and instead was telling him to break something, followed by breaking something else while he beat up the first mercenary he found.
McTavish was dressed in a pale blue Hawaiian shirt and board shorts, having spent the last few hours lounging around near the swimming pool reading the day's newspaper followed by a fair portion of the novel he was in the process of going through. The news of the firefight currently occurring within the district reached his ears via the personal radio that was lying on the table near him. The voice of a young mercenary (they all seemed to be young guys, these mercenaries that MNU was so quick to hire) broke through the relative silence of the swimming pool area. McTavish grabbed the radio, listening to whatever the mercenary had to say.
"Uh, Colonel McTavish…"
"What?" McTavish didn't have much of an idea of just why he was being disturbed now and was expecting whatever news the mercenary had would be absolutely dull and menial. It always seemed to be that way.
"There's…uh…there's trouble, sir," the mercenary said. McTavish frowned.
"Trouble? What sort of trouble?" He asked. He could tell from the mercenary's voice that the merc was uncertain, as if afraid of McTavish's reaction. What kind of trouble could it possibly be if the mercenary was afraid to tell him?
"Some prawns…they're shooting the place up. We're losing a lot of guys…"
McTavish considered this information for a moment. To think that peace in the district had been disturbed by a bunch of gun wielding prawns left him in a contradicted frame of mind: should he or shouldn't he lose his temper? He certainly felt like doing so.
"Any idea why?" McTavish asked, needing details before he arranged any countermeasures.
"It's something to do with that Colonel Keller guy and his team," the mercenary replied, "They found something and now the prawns are trying to get it back. At least, that's as much as I can determine."
McTavish huffed. He should have known that Colonel Keller would have brought nothing but trouble into the district. Still, there was a chance to get in touch with Keller and determine the exact nature of the situation. McTavish knew that this sort of resistance from the prawns would only incite more of them to start causing trouble. There was the very distinct possibility of a full-blown revolution and this was one thing McTavish did not need.
"Get as many men as you can and take those prawns down," McTavish ordered, his voice stern and commanding, "I want these dangerous fucking prawns dead within the hour. Is that understood?"
"Yes—"
"Actually, I think I might check out what's happening myself," McTavish added, standing up. He started to the sliding glass doors ahead, passing through the estate as he made his way to the front. "Besides, I want to talk to Keller. Something tells me he's the one who started this trouble."
"Right, sir. I'll get the troops together immediately…"
"Can you get me in touch with Captain Venter?" McTavish asked, passing through the estate's lounge room. He stepped over to a wooden cabinet on the wall that was off to the right of the large plasma television. It was the centrepiece of his home entertainment system and had cost an appropriately large amount of money.
"I'm afraid not, sir," the mercenary replied through the radio, "He's in the district, probably in the thick of the fighting there."
It was typical of Captain Marinus Venter to drop out of contact. Chances are his radio was off, just so there was no way for it to interrupt the Captain in the middle of a firefight. McTavish would have to complain to the Captain about this habit since it just inconvenienced everyone else.
"What about Keller? Is he in contact?" McTavish asked as he opened the cabinet. Within the cabinet was a black metal Remington shotgun, the type that was often used for riot control and clearing rooms. He pulled it from where it was hung up, grabbing a box of shells from the shelf below it. He started loading shells into the weapon, whistling as he did. He clipped his radio to the front pocket of his Hawaiian shirt whilst thinking that he might be able to get some excitement into his day with what was happening in the district. Maybe the firefight that was occurring wasn't such a bad thing after all.
"He's just arrived at the compound now," the mercenary replied, "You could talk to him yourself if you want…Captain Venter's with him as well."
McTavish raised an eyebrow. If Keller was outside then McTavish would have to go out there and demand some answers from the American. There was undoubtedly a lot going on that Keller hadn't shared with him, thus McTavish would probably need to be a bit more forceful in the means he used to try and get answers.
With the Remington shotgun fully loaded McTavish slid the pump, hearing the satisfying click-click as the weapon became ready to fire. Keeping the weapon clutched in his right hand, McTavish headed out of the lounge and down a flight of stairs, arriving at the front door of the estate. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the front yard, making his way down the drive way and through the open main gate. He passed a few patrolling guards as he went, starting down the winding road that lead from the estate and went to the mercenary compound located outside of the district.
The mercenary on the radio had been right about Keller being in the compound. McTavish arrived in the depot area of the compound, catching sight of the American Colonel as he jumped off of the back of a large grey MNU cargo truck. He was followed by Captain Venter who emerged from the truck's rear section, stepping down off of the truck with a disgruntled expression on his face. Such a look wasn't uncommon for Venter who seemed to have the habit of making a facial expression that could lead to others thinking he was constipated.
McTavish approached Keller, noticing that once again the American Colonel had a cigar sticking from one corner of his mouth. Keller's gaze went to McTavish as he approached and he managed a friendly smile in his direction.
"Colonel McTavish, I didn't expect to find you out here," Keller said. He seemed awfully calm for someone who had just escaped from the zone of a firefight.
"What the hell are you trying to do, Keller?" McTavish demanded, unable to keep the anger from creeping into his voice, "I didn't think you'd cause so much fucking trouble by going into the district…"
"It was for a good purpose," Keller replied, unfazed by McTavish's annoyance.
McTavish frowned, peering at the truck as he tried to get a gaze into the rear section. Keller stepped in front of him, obscuring his view.
"What's in the back of the truck?" McTavish asked.
"None of your business," Keller replied, smiling.
"It's from the district so it is my business," McTavish said. He didn't like the way Keller was treating him, acting as if McTavish was underneath him. "In case you've forgotten, Colonel Keller, but I'm the one who's in charge of District 10."
"What's with the gun?" Keller asked, nodding towards the shotgun gripped in McTavish's right hand.
"I was thinking of heading into the district myself, just to see what was going on," McTavish replied, narrowing his gaze, "seeing as you've managed to stir up trouble. I doubt that this would have happened if you hadn't showed up…"
"Yeah, well, shit happens…doesn't it?" Keller asked in a rather nonchalant manner. McTavish just rolled his eyes, thinking that he was probably wasting his time here.
"Don't you go anywhere," McTavish said, pointing a finger at the Colonel, "I'll be back once I'm done with this shit-storm you started in the district. And I'm going to find out whatever it is you're hiding in that fucking truck, you got that?"
Keller was still smiling, even as he nodded.
"Yeah, sure Mac," Keller said, "I got it. You go have fun in the District while I wait here and have a friendly discussion with Captain Venter." He nodded to the Captain who was standing nearby. "I like that plan, don't you Mac?"
"I'll be back, Keller," McTavish said as he turned to leave.
For the last ten minutes Lukas Farber had been doing nothing but running. His leg muscles ached and his lungs burned from all the effort. The right side of his face tingled strangely while his right eye, the one that was no longer human in appearance, stung slightly. Ahead of him were the others he seemed to have fallen in with, the prawns and the one human who were in the same sort of situation as him: on the run from far superior and heavily armed MNU forces.
The prawnling that seemed so fascinated with him seemed to be having no trouble keeping up with Lukas, even on its shorter legs that took smaller steps than the engineer.
There was Wikus, the rather angry prawn who had somehow managed to talk Lukas into tagging along. Then there was Iris, the quiet female one that was yet to say much at all. Lawrence was the young prawn in the grey trousers, currently wielding a Vektor CR21 he had recovered from a dead mercenary. Vincent was the somewhat quiet and mild-mannered prawn in the black leather jacket and dark trousers, having been the one who had rescued Lukas, Wikus, Iris and Lawrence from the APC. Linda was the human woman who was sticking by Vincent, as if the pair were good friends. Lastly there was Carl, the cranky and facially scarred old prawn who didn't seem to like Lukas very much.
The group were racing through the alleys that winded between tents and shacks. Vincent seemed to have a bit of a limp on him, evident by the slowed pace at which he was running and the fact that part of his left leg was wrapped in dirty bandages. Behind the group MNU mercenaries maintained pursuit, with APCs and Jeeps speeding through the streets while armed men chased them down the alleyways. It occurred to Lukas that it wouldn't take much effort on MNU's part for them to surround the group and eliminate them (or arrest them) appropriately. The MNU forces were probably in the process of doing just that.
Lukas was already tired of running but he didn't stop. Chances are if he stopped the others would just get angry and leave him behind or the mercenaries pursuing them would catch up to him. Lukas might have been reasonably fit but he certainly wasn't capable of running a few kilometres non-stop, dodging bullets and jumping over the assorted junk that created obstacles in the group's path.
It seemed that Lukas' day was getting worse as it went on. First he had been exposed to some alien fluid which had now proceeded to alter half of his face, letting his skin there come off at the slightest touch while his right eye had become very much like the type of eye a prawn had. Now he was getting chased by disgruntled mercenaries backed up by a force of armoured vehicles. He wondered if things could get any worse from here on in.
They probably could, he figured. He thought that he should stop thinking how things could get any worse since that would probably make it happen. Rather, he concentrated on running, following the group as they arrived at the end of the alley. Ahead was another wide street but the prawns that were normally outside had been ordered indoors by the mercenaries that were on patrol, waiting for the fleeing group of fugitives to arrive.
Wikus was the first to stop, turning to face the rest of the group as they stopped after him. If the prawns were puffed out they didn't show it, although both Lukas and Linda had to catch their breaths, even as the sounds of armoured vehicles became audible. They didn't have much time before the vehicles pulled up nearby so Wikus delivered what he wanted to say immediately.
"We have to split up," he said, "We can't just keep running like this in the one group. These MNU fuckers will have no trouble boxing us in otherwise…"
He paused, waiting to see if there were any complaints. There were none so he continued.
"Lukas, Vincent, Linda…you can come with me," Wikus said, "We'll head east." He nodded to the left.
"But Wikus—" Iris began but was interrupted.
"Don't argue," Wikus said sternly, "Chances are most of them will come after me and Lukas. If you don't come with us Iris, there's a better chance you'll survive…"
Lukas could tell that Iris had an obvious liking for Wikus. This much was evident in the way she was looking at him and the way she seemed to dislike the idea of not going with him when the group split up. Wikus, on the other hand, didn't seem to think much of this liking she had for him.
"Everybody else head west," Wikus said, "We'll meet up on the hill near the north gate. That means we have to lose these fuckers first, otherwise they'll just chase us out into the countryside."
Before anyone had a chance to say anything in regards to this plan a pair of MNU mercenaries came from around the corner behind the group. Both halted and raised their rifles, preparing to fire. Lukas grabbed the prawnling and sprinted for cover while Michael and Carl swivelled around where they stood, Michael using his R4 rifle to mow cut down one of the mercenaries. Carl blasted the other with his Popleekwan-built arc cannon, the mercenary exploding into a bloody mess.
This was enough of a signal to get the group running again. Lawrence, Carl, Michael and Iris raced out onto the street and headed right, disappearing from view as they went. Lukas followed after Wikus, Vincent and Linda while he clutched the prawnling close to his chest. He was beginning to feel a little guilty about forcing the young creature through all of this but there was no other option. Besides, he was developing a liking for the young prawn, even if it smelt bad and was annoying at times.
Lukas, Wikus, Vincent and Linda raced out onto the street and headed left, sticking close to the line of tents and shacks on the side of the dirt road as they ran. There were a few mercenaries scattered across the street and all started firing their weapons at them, bullets pounding into the ground near the fleeing group while some punctured holes into the tents behind them. Lukas kept the prawnling held close as he kept running, ignoring the pain that was in his legs and the aches that wracked at his lungs. He could have done with a good drink of water right about now but something told him he wouldn't be getting one for a while.
McTavish sat in the passenger seat of an MNU Jeep, Remington shotgun on his lap. Next to him the driver, a young black haired mercenary, was doing his best to speed through the narrow streets of the district without crashing into something or running anyone over. In the backseat another mercenary sat, this one with a laptop computer on his lap as he viewed the satellite feed of the firefight going on within the district.
"They're splitting up, sir," the mercenary said, turning his laptop around so McTavish could see. It was a thermal image providing a view of the district from high above. The camera was focused on the group of eight that was at the centre of the firefight: six prawns and two humans. Why there were humans involved he didn't care about too much, he assumed they were just prawn sympathisers. The group had split up into two groups of four, one heading one way and the other heading in the opposite direction.
"We'll go after this lot here," McTavish said, tapping the screen where four of the group's prawns had started running. He had a feeling that today would be a more exciting day than most.
Lawrence hung back at the rear of his group as they ran out onto the street, keeping close to the side of it as they went. He clutched the human built CR21 rifle tightly in his claws, the extra sense of security it brought making him feel a little more confident in the situation he found himself in. He had been shot at before during raids for the resistance but never had he been shot at here in District 10. The district had been his home for the last two years and it seemed strange that he was being chased and shot at within it.
Michael, Carl and Iris were a short distance ahead of him. Lawrence kept watch on the group's rear as they made their way down the road, rifle fire cracking from nearby as mercenaries opened fire in their direction. Lawrence felt a few bullets zip through the air near him, some of them even kicking up dirt near his clawed feet. His heart was racing uncontrollably while a feeling of overwhelming excitement flowed through him. Even though he was in a life threatening situation he couldn't help but find it exciting, thrilling even.
Lawrence wasn't too familiar with why that human, Lukas, had gotten involved. There was that slight oddity that one of the human's eyes had become decidedly "prawn". Lawrence assumed that the human was beginning to go through what Wikus had gone through a few years ago, although it was hard to determine for sure. And why it was happening to Lukas was unknown to the young prawn since he had only just met the human in the last half hour.
Lawrence spotted a mercenary coming out of an alley across the street. As he ran Lawrence brought up his CR21 rifle, pulling the trigger and feeling the rifle shake and bark loudly in his grip. The mercenary crumpled into a heap on the ground, blood spurting from a jagged fleshy hole in his throat.
Michael was leading the group and he took them into another alley, this one winding its way through a large set of shacks. A few other prawns were here and all were surprised to see the group of four charge in wielding weapons although none did anything about it. Instead they all just watched on passively as the group went on through the alleyway, exiting into a sort of large courtyard that was located in the middle of a large set of tents and shacks.
The courtyard had a water pump in the centre. The humans, when constructing the district, hadn't bothered teaching most of the prawns here on how to use the water pump so many of the less intelligent prawns had almost died of thirst, even if the pump was in their sight. Up ahead was a partially constructed stone wall, one that had been built to close off one side of the courtyard only for the humans building it to stop partway through the construction job. A few shelters had been set up for the prawns who hadn't been fortunate enough to get their own tent or shack, although there were currently no prawns within the courtyard. Most had been ordered indoors when the shooting had begun, even though there were still many outside elsewhere in the district.
"I think we lost them," Iris said, stopping to catch her breath. The others stopped in the courtyard as well, taking the chance to rest. Michael stepped over to the water pump and pulled the lever, sticking his head under the steady stream of water that poured out while opening his mouth to drink it.
It was a fairly hot day today, the sun beating down upon the district in a rather unrelenting manner. A Popleekwa's body wasn't quite able to cope with such intense heat and their exoskeletons had a habit of heating up until the prawn in question collapsed. Lawrence was on the verge of that now and so stepped over to the water pump where Michael was, pushing the other prawn aside as he leaned forward to take a drink. The water was cool and refreshing, spilling down his neck as he drank. He splashed some onto his face, cooling his exoskeleton there but only slightly.
Once he had had a fair drink he shut off the pump, stood back up and gazed around the courtyard. The area was strangely quiet, save for the distant sound of weapons fire as the MNU forces kept in pursuit of Wikus and the others. Wikus had been right about MNU being more interested in him and Lukas since most of the mercenaries had started after their half of the group and not the half containing Lawrence. It was hard to determine whether this was for the best or not.
"We should hide our weapons," Carl said, "If we're seen with them it'll only start trouble again. All we can do now is head to where Wikus said we were to regroup."
Lawrence looked down at his CR21 rifle. For some reason he didn't think he could part with it right now, there was still that nagging feeling in his mind that he would need it still. The day wasn't over and chances are they were wanted criminals in the eyes of MNU. He doubted MNU would simply give up chasing them so easily.
"I think we should lay low here first," Lawrence said, turning to face his grandfather, "That way we can be sure that we've lost our pursuers. For all we know, they could be watching us right now."
Carl gave the prawn equivalent of a frown.
"And what makes you so sure about this?" He asked.
Lawrence didn't know.
"It's just a feeling I have," he said.
This feeling was proven correct when an MNU Jeep crashed through the stone wall at the far end of the courtyard. The mercenary manning the mounted gun on the back swivelled it so that it was pointing towards the group of prawns, pulling the trigger once his aim was close. The Jeep pulled to a halt inside the courtyard, more mercenaries flowing in through the hole it had created in the wall.
Carl started running for cover, as did Iris. Michael ducked behind the water pump as bullets pounded into the ground near him. Lawrence was surprised but not shaken, starting to back away towards the shack behind him while he raised his rifle. The mercenary manning the Jeep's mounted gun was the greatest threat so Lawrence took aim at this human and squeezed off a couple of rounds, the rifle buckling in his grip as the bullets thundered from the barrel. The mercenary manning the mounted gun fell backwards, an explosion of blood erupting from his shoulder as he went down.
There were MNU hired soldiers flowing into the courtyard now and were moving their way gradually to the positions of the prawns. Lawrence knew he was exposed and started running to his left, deciding to head back into the alley. He was surprised to see a stern moustached human wearing a Hawaiian shirt step into view from the alley, a shotgun held in his hands.
It was McTavish, the human who ran District 10's mercenary force. Lawrence had seen a few pictures of him but had never actually seen the man face-to-face like this before. Flanking McTavish were two burly mercenaries, both of whom had their rifles trained on Lawrence. What McTavish was doing in the district was unknown but Lawrence assumed the human had just wanted to put a stop to the trouble himself.
Lawrence stopped, realizing he had nowhere to go. He brought up his CR21 rifle just as the two mercenaries with McTavish opened fire. Lawrence blasted both while McTavish dived and rolled, coming up firing his shotgun.
Lawrence went to adjust his aim to focus on McTavish but was too slow, the first of the human's shots hitting Lawrence in the stomach. Several shotgun pellets pounded their way through his exoskeleton, puncturing the organs underneath and sending a spray of warm black blood flying outwards. The force of the shot knocked Lawrence onto the ground, a stinging pain shooting through him as he went down. His rifle fell from his grip and landed just out of reach in the dirt nearby.
The young prawn felt a strange warm sensation at his stomach. The pain there was immense and he groaned loudly, rolling onto his side as he put a claw to his stomach in order to hold in the guts that threatened to spill out. He caught sight of McTavish turning his attention to where Carl and Iris had taken cover, preparing to fire. Carl was too quick for the human, turning around and blasting McTavish with his arc cannon. McTavish exploded into a bloody, gunky mess and immediately Carl stood up, racing to where his grandson lay in the dirt despite the fact there were still plenty of mercenaries shooting at him.
Lawrence felt strangely weak and so didn't protest when his grandfather grabbed him by one arm and helped him up. Carl looked distraught, pheromones of distress emanating from him as he started guiding Lawrence into cover behind a short stone wall. Iris was there, keeping in cover as bullets pounded into the masonry. Michael was still out by the water pump, mowing down any mercenaries that got too close.
Carl rested Lawrence against the back of the wall, taking a look at his grandson's injuries. The distress was clear in his one good eye, Carl's otherwise unshakable demeanour now broken.
Lawrence knew his chances of recovery were slim. They had no access to medical facilities nor medical supplies, hence even the slightest of wounds could become serious. One look at Lawrence's wounds showed that they were serious enough already.
The young prawn put a calming claw on his grandfather's forearm. There was no point in having Carl fret over him, he was a hopeless case. He looked towards Iris, able to see that she was just as distraught as Carl. Lawrence would regret dying before he had been able to get himself laid but he guessed that life wasn't always fair.
"You guys go on," Lawrence said. Blood collected in his mouth as he spoke and he spat it out to the side, its taste somewhat disgusting.
"You're my grandson," Carl said sternly, trying to collect himself, "I'm not leaving you."
Michael came running over, bullets kicking up the dirt near his clawed feet as he ran. More rounds began to pound into the stone wall as the mercenaries began to concentrate their fire in the group's direction.
Michael saw Lawrence's injuries and immediately went solemn. Carl still gripped Lawrence at one arm, as if he thought that someone would try and pull him away from his wounded grandson.
"I'll distract them," Lawrence said. He was thinking he may as well go down fighting, rather than dying in a corner somewhere. He had always thought he would go down guns blazing, especially since he had joined the resistance. "You three can escape…"
"I'm not leaving you," Carl barked, anger building up in him.
"I don't want you to stay!" Lawrence exclaimed. He coughed up blood, spitting it off to the side.
"We have to go," Michael said, "They're going to be all over us any moment…"
Lawrence managed one last look at his grandfather. He was serious in what he was saying, even if Carl refused to accept it.
"Go," Lawrence said simply. He didn't have the strength to say much else and talking was beginning to get difficult, especially since there was so much of his own blood that was building up in his mouth.
Carl didn't say anything. Instead he thrust his arc cannon into Lawrence's grip and stood up.
"Farewell, grandfather," Lawrence said, taking the Popleekwan weapon and clutching it tightly. Carl remained silent, only nodding at his grandson. Was that a tear Lawrence saw coming out of his grandfather's one good eye? It was hard to tell in all the sunlight.
Michael directed Carl and Iris back into the alley, leaving Lawrence alone behind the wall. Michael managed one last look at Lawrence and the younger prawn simply nodded. This was what he wanted and nothing anybody said or did could change that.
Michael left and Lawrence was left alone in the courtyard with only a whole lot of MNU mercenaries for company. Swallowing his fears he stood up and stepped out from behind the wall, raising the arc cannon as he did so. He wobbled unsteadily on his feet, finding it difficult to keep his balance in his wounded state. Still, he managed and proceeded to open fire on the advancing mercenaries.
There were a fair few of them and they had been advancing down the courtyard, expecting to find that the prawns they were after were easy to beat. Lawrence was determined to prove them wrong and without so much as another thought he fired the arc cannon, blowing away one of the mercenaries. The others immediately scattered, rifles firing. Lawrence ignored the rounds that passed close by him and instead began shooting the arc cannon again and again, blowing away several of the mercenaries as he went.
There was one to his left who fired off a shot, this particular bullet blowing a sizeable portion from Lawrence's left shoulder. Clicking angrily from the pain Lawrence swivelled his aim onto the mercenary and fired, blowing the mercenary all over the front of a nearby tent. There seemed to be more of these mercenaries flowing into the courtyard, rifles barking as they ran.
Lawrence started stepping forwards, catching sight of one crouched behind the water pump. The mercenary's leg was exposed and so Lawrence took careful aim and fired, the mercenary's leg exploding into a bloody red mess. The rest of the mercenary crumpled into a heap on the ground, bleeding everywhere from the mangled stump that had once been his leg.
Lawrence heard movement behind him and he turned around, catching sight of a pair of mercenaries as they charged out of a nearby tent. The young prawn blasted both, getting showered with pieces of them as the arc cannon blasts slammed into the mercenaries. Lawrence turned back around and caught sight of three mercenaries racing across the courtyard, heading for cover behind a stack of old wooden crates. Lawrence blew away two of them, the last one stopping and diving to the ground. He brought up his rifle and opened fire, one of the rounds stinging into Lawrence's left leg.
The young prawn fell to his knees, grunting with the pain. Regardless he kept his attention focused on the mercenaries up ahead as they further encroached on his position. Rifles fired and bullets kicked up dirt near him but still Lawrence kept shooting, blasting more of the mercenaries away.
A rifle fired from his left sent bullet into his side, agony erupting from the affected area. Lawrence fell onto his other side, writhing about in pain. Slowly getting back up onto his knees he turned to where the shot had come from, seeing another mercenary charging from a nearby tent. He blasted this human away, blood and guts splattering the front of the tent.
One of the mercenaries up ahead opened fire and another bullet pounded into Lawrence, this time hitting him in the chest. Lawrence groaned in both pain and anger, blowing this mercenary away with a well placed shot from his arc cannon. There were still many more but Lawrence didn't think he would be able to take much more punishment, especially since he seemed to be bleeding a hell of a lot. He could barely breathe let alone gather the strength to stand up. Whenever he did breathe the air seemed to exit from the hole in his chest, leaving him short of breath.
There were two mercenaries emerging from a tent to his right and Lawrence blew both away, clicking happily as he watched both mercenaries explode into bloody, liquefied messes. A rifle fired from somewhere up ahead sent a round into his neck, blowing a jagged hole through his exoskeleton there. Black blood exploded outwards and finally Lawrence keeled over.
Gargling, Lawrence fell backwards. As the life faded from him he was stared up at the sky, his golden-yellow eyes taking in the beauty of the blue Earth sky for one last time.
