[center][color 33ec06]Marcus Howell [/color][/center]
[center][img]http://i65.tinypic.com/21o8tg4.png[/img][/center]

A hit and a miss - Marcus considered that a success. He was currently backing towards the transport, squirrels approaching, while he readied another shot. They were coming up quickly now, and the group would be in trouble if nobody else did anything about them. He lined up another shot, stopping in his tracks to take aim, and…

[color=lightcoral]"Marcus, take cover!"[/color]

He turned his head slightly to look at Lily, who was standing nearby, arm arced as if she had thrown something. A glint in her hand caught his eye, him at first believing it to be the object she was about to throw. It was a pin. A [i]grenade[/i] pin to be precise. Almost in slow motion, his eyes locked onto the object in the air, currently slightly over his head. 

His teammate had just thrown a grenade at him.

Or, not at him [i]per se[/i], but he was currently occupying the area in which she’d thrown it. He didn’t know much about explosives, but he had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen to him, and none of it was pleasant. His feet turned of their own volition, and he found himself turned towards the transport, running in a blind panic. There was no way he’d be able to get out of the blast zone in time. His eyes darted to the last thing he was about to see: the determined look of Lily, still confident in her throw, as everything around him seemed to stop.

While Lily’s face showed determination, Marcus's showed desperation. Two different emotions, both with the same goal: survival. He’d been in such a situation before; a scene he relived in his head in what he [i]assumed[/i] to be his life flashing before his eyes. 

[i]The asphalt was cold, as cold as the blood in his veins and as cold as the night sky that stretched infinitely beyond above him. The stars twinkled brightly...odd, they hadn’t done that before. Each star twinkled once, and was subsequently snuffed out, but he felt himself grow warmer. Somewhere up there, Dreamcatcher watched them all from the safety of his cocoon. He was safe and sound far above, while those still stuck on the ground suffered because of it. He had questions for the beast; "Why?" "How could you let this happen?", but the fading of his vision suggested he'd never get the chance. The warmth in his chest grew hotter, curiously hot, as if each star had lent him a small portion of its light. As the last star faded and the night grew black, he snapped back to reality.[/i]

The world rushed to meet him, folding itself inward to allow for his safe passage. His head swirled, a combination of panic, confusion, and motion sickness. He heard static, loud static that seemed to be coming from directly behind him. The ground shifted as well, his feet scuffing through the dirt and catching something, sending him sprawling to the earth below. He did not move to catch himself, his arms preoccupied with reflexively covering his head as his body impacted. Behind him, much farther behind him than previously, something exploded. At least, he assumed it was an explosion; he felt a rush of heat, and the normal sounds of the environment were silenced and replaced with a high-pitched ringing.

His vision swirling, his ears ringing, and his stomach threatening to turn itself inside-out, Marcus slowly raised his head. It took a moment for him to regain his senses, and it was his vision that returned first. He certainly was not laying where he expected to be laying, but more importantly; he had apparently not been eviscerated by hot shrapnel. 

As his mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened, his ears stopped ringing. What replaced that was far worse; the screams. Two sets, one of which was cut disturbingly short. He reached for the pistol that had left his grip, retrieving it from its spot nearby. His legs shook, but slowly steadied themselves as he struggled to his feet, taking a couple extra steps as he righted himself.

There’d be no time to figure out how he’d survived until later. For now, he looked at the horrifying scene before him, and his stomach twisted again. [color 33ec06][i]Focus. Focus on the target.[/i][/color] He raised his gun uncertainly, trying to stop the shaking in his arms long enough to regain his aim. If there were any squirrels left by the time Grant and Siena were done with them, he’d take the shot.