Scorching bullets ricocheted within the enclosed room, punching holes after holes into the walls, shattering wooden boards and windows. The icy wind carrying toxic mist surged in, swirling violently around noses and mouths.
Kemp pressed tightly against the cover behind him, checking the remaining ammunition in his pistol. Scorching light flickered in his eyes. With a deep breath and gathering courage, he swiftly leaned out, firing back at the enemy at the end of the corridor.
Fire quickly, retreat quickly; just as he had learned in training. Yet even so, a stray bullet grazed him, tearing his fabric and leaving a shallow blood mark on his calf.
Vision dim, amidst the violent gunfire, Kemp leaning against the wall, faintly heard the wail of the enemy, seemingly hit by his gunfire.
But soon more footsteps came, several guns were set up again at the end of the corridor, closely watching his position.
