The shot rang out like a cannon. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you have a near-death experience. None of that is true, at least not with me. I've had a few brushes with the Grim Reaper in my time and all I felt was a sense of despair, a sense of loneliness. A cold vortex that sweeps you up and tosses you about like a rag doll.
I opened my eyes and saw North fall on his face. Harrigan was behind him with a smoking gun.
"Well," I said, "you took your dear sweet time!"