Jack went down hard on the pavement. His head, still swimming, had made a solid impact on the ground. He tried to get to his knees, but every time he tried his arms gave way beneath his body weight. He put his right palm against his forehead, trying to do anything to alleviate the pain. Jack felt exhausted, but he tried to push himself up one final time. He made it to his knees, and he realized he still had his .357 Magnum in his left hand. He looked up, looked for the blurs that were the color of the tangos, used all his strength to train the pistol on the nearest target, then pulled the trigger. The recoil caused his arm to give way and he fell to the ground.