The air is thick with tension, and the sounds of distant combat echo through the sky. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you stagger through the desolate streets, desperately searching for safety. Your vision blurs as you watch the blood from the wound in your side seep through your fingers as you slowly black out, you can hear a man as he drags you out of the building, his deep, rough voice muffled but you can make out a simple, ”You’re gonna be alright son. Tommy! Get the horses….”