<span style="font-style: italic">Fuck!</span>Samuel thought, continuing to fire anyways. He could see that Kesch was gaining out of the corner of his eye and cursed. The feline lowered his gun and hit the release switch, slipping out the current magazine and turning to toss it at Kesch's head before slapping a new one, his second and last one, in.<span style="font-style: italic">I should've got a bigger caliber. Or more bullets. Or a sawn-off...</span>he thought, slowing his retreat as he turned and fired, actually aiming now as he back-pedaled. It was clear he couldn't run, so he'd just have to shoot.