The cold grass was the first thing Mwene noticed. The dozens of its blades were crushed under his face. Then came the taste and smell of metal. It was like he had been bathing in a pool for coins. A sharp pain, as if someone tried to drill right between his eyes. Mwene opened his eyes which were burning with every millimeter they widened. His world was completely red. He began to rub his eyes with one hand while using the other to guide him back onto the bench and slowly the world began to take shape and what he saw absolutely rocked him to his core. Pablo was sitting upright and headless. Blood squirted irregularly from the stump that was his neck. Some squirts had blood rush out limply while others had blood jumped out. His hand twitched uncontrollably and was crushing the photograph that was splattered with blood and bits of flesh. Mwene noticed the smoke from his medallion. He looked beyond Pablo’s body, its life was oozing out more second by second, and scanned his environment. There were worn, brick buildings surrounding the park from all sides with the odd car parked here and there. One building did catch his attention. A single window was open in a two-storey building that stood across the road from the park. The room was completely dark except from the outside. Then a glint appeared quickly followed by a sharp pain on his chest right in the middle on his breastbone. All the air in his lungs had violently expelled from him as he was knocked backwards off the bench back onto the cold ground. Mwene grabbed his chest , whilst desperately gasping, expecting to be greeted by his own blood but quickly drew it because he felt something scolding hot press against his palm. He looked down and saw a small smoking hole in his shirt. He looked underneath and saw a crushed bullet lodged in his smoking medallion. He quickly flicked away the hot bullet and crouched behind the bench. He slowly peered over the bench and noticed the glint. He quickly retreated and thought hard. He scanned his surroundings and saw a car much like Inyanga’s, except newer, parked at the other end of the park roughly a hundred metres from him. He remembered how he used to practise hotwiring it when he was younger. That was his ticket from the park, from the sniper, from Paradise. The question was how he would make it there relatively intact. Then an idea dawned on him, one that made him feel as dirty as it was necessary. “Forgive me Pablo.” Mwene whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and focused on the task at hand. He took three deep breaths and lunged towards Pablo's body. He felt a bullet bounce off the side of his head and heard it land on the ground. He grabbed the body and pulled it towards him until he was back behind the bench. He sat there for a moment trying not to think. Trying not to care. He then positioned the body on his back as if he was piggy-backing it. He took a quick around and noticed no one. No man or bird or animal. It was just him and a .50 calibre sniper who didn’t miss. Like the rocket tractor he knew one false move would result in his death or worse, his capture. He launched forward and ran with all he had towards the car with his head as low as possible. He felt a bullet hit Pablo’s back and the bones exploded onto his back. It felt like a thousand needles. He kept running. Another hit and another thousand needles peppered his back. He kept pushing. He ignored the pain. He was halfway. Another bullet hit his tailbone. He stumbled. He kept on going. He was only left with a quarter. A piercing pain hit the back of his left knee. He faces planted onto the ground. Pablo’s wet and bloody pulp of a body was still on his back. He pushed himself off the ground, careful not to let Pablo fall off. The right knee was hit which briefly froze Mwene but he quickly got over the pain and continued to stand. None of the bullets broke his skin, the pain was overwhelming but he was healing. A long as he could heal, he could live. As long as he could live, he could fight and that’s all that mattered. He started to move again towards the car which was a mere couple of metres away. His pace quickened. He was this close to freedom. His mind wandered to the faces of his friends who are probably at the ship waiting for him, waiting to meet their destiny that was nestled in the stars far above him. It was the only way he could ignore the blood, the pain, the loss but a beeping noise distracted broke him back to reality. He saw a red beeping light underneath the car. His eyes widened as he tried to turn around but deep down, he knew it was too late. A shockwave knocked him off his feet. Then came a heat the likes of which he had never felt before. Hotter than the bullet from earlier, hotter from the Zuva lights he tried to touch as if he were Icarus. He felt Pablo’s body just disappear from his back as if he were never there. The smell of burnt hair and flesh flooded his nostrils. He crashed to the ground and bounced off it a couple of times before unceremoniously rolling to a stop, his head lay on the ground facing away from the car towards the building where the sniper was. The body was twisted and mangled in ways a body shouldn’t. An arm landed right in front of him. It was partially burnt, the leather had melted and blended with the red and black flesh. In its hand was a photo, partially smeared with a thin coating of soot. He could make out two pairs of perfect eyes and smiles. They’re pain of loss was no different from his pain. Their lost dream of family was no different from his. Through the smoke and tears from his one working eye he could make out a figure walking towards him. In his arms he held a sniper rifle. As he got closer, he could make out his face. It was Chase approaching him, one step at a time.