He fires one last round as he lowers the gun, a last spit in the face of death before they have to head back to the town or else just wait here and meet whatever grisly death was coming for them. He let the last bullet loose without even aiming. And now, it sails through the cool morning air as he drops the gun to the dock. It glides effortlessly, released from its prison in the magazine to complete its destiny.
Tommy’s knees hit he dock as he collapses in despair just as the bullet, a tiny and otherwise useless ball of metal, hits a spare fuel container on the back of the boat. The flammable liquid, a sleeping volcano waiting to erupt. Just awaiting a trigger.
A series of events that would otherwise be remote but had now achieved just the right