The edge of desperation...

The horizon is dark with rising smoke and haze.  I catch myself, on to business.  I run with my head down, risking myself to better the group.  I run into the open, grabbing my most effective tool, the wood splinters around me.  I'm short of breath, is that the fear or the run.  Do I dig in or run back to safety, back to the group.  If I fall will there be someone to lift me up, will there be a hand.  My chances of survival here are slim, but my position is vital.  I release fire from the sky getting hits.  I'm out.  I run to safety, I'm red but not down.  Two at the door, one mid, and one high.  I take my position watching the door.  The ever present horde approach's.  I force it down, tightening my grip.  This is our last chance of survival.  We are the only one's left.