Descripción del producto
A burning inferno of an oil rig greets Gunz in his quest to survive. One dirty little man awaits the pleasure of a smoking shell, but can he avoid it? The guns of death hasten to enjoy the flesh of the wicked. This is red hot as hell action 1000 degrees hotter than hell itself. "Mothers turning in their grave - that kind of thing."
About 1800 Words.
Flames licked his skin. His fists tightened around the D-Eagles. Time was running out. The flames of hell were here, real and touchable. Living meant flying. Flying meant the chopper. Dozens of crew stood in the way. 8 rounds each, 16 in both, 48 in all. It was a long way up. A long way through hell. He was ready.
CRACK. The crew made his decision for him. Dozens of automatic rounds clattered the metal walkway. Metal rings shattered. The walkway splashed into the sea below.
"Did we get him?"
Boots bit into two peering faces from up high. Blood, teeth and a rolling shape entered the hallway. Blasts from outstretched steel ate surprised flesh as bullets tore skin and men fell.
Gunz jumped backwards from his crouch and instinctively side kicked the man with the shotgun before shooting the man on the floor in the head as he reached for his fallen pistol.
No time to breath. Gotta run. His footsteps rattled the steel floor.
Left or Right? He dodged right.