Rate my story so far Luke was sure the blast should've killed him, but it didn't. Now he laid there on the ground with the smell of gasoline and burning metal still clinging in the air. His brain screamed for him to get up but his body wouldn't. At the slightest movement he could feel the blood trickle from the back of his head. The hoarse groans of the undead growing ever close. He knew if he didn't get up he'd be eaten alive where he laid. Using all the strength he could muster up he picked himself up , grabbed his hat that'd been thrown from him in the blast, reclaimed his pistol and took off in a sprint.