Quagmire flayed his right hand, and out of it came down the improvised explosive device. One by one it tumbled and stopped in its intended location, whilst the ghouls chasing him did not even notice its presence nor the fact that it was thrown out. Even if they did, they thought that their prey was merely desperately trying to delay them further by throwing whatever it could get its hands on.
Thus, with a quicker pace of steps, they ramped up their efforts in excitement. Their eyes glittered with desire and lust for blood, the taste of their prey, but their feelings and emotions were strong, and strong they were.
Quagmire, although running for quite a while already, it was only this time that he felt fatigue creeping up into his body. Although he could feel it earlier, it just was not interfering, but now it was becoming worse. If he does not do anything, then that would mean a possible collapse later on, and he cannot allow that.
