Slowed Motion

"NO!" Clint's scream filled his whole world.
He couldn't see Zeke, obscured by Anna as she flew through the air. Couldn't see the gun in Zeke's hands. Couldn't see Zeke tremble.
If Zeke fired - in anger or in fear - he'd see nothing but Anna's back fracture red and erupt violently towards him through her clothes.
He leapt forward, intent on pushing Anna out of the way, but Time intervened; eons held him back, as slowly, so slowly, he reached out, pushed off from the ground, reached further, slow muscle movement somehow defying this terrifying lacuna, this vindictiveness of time's inertia.