The cold of the water was almost as shocking as the shotgun wound in his back. It was a good thing too, as the icy grip of salt-water searing inside the half-dozen burning holes was the only thing keeping him awake. He kicked and struggled, lashing against the briny sludge that passed for water as he dragged himself along the bay. Bullets tunneled around him, spiraling and arcing out of control as they searched for his struggling figure amongst the salty darkness.
.
“Just had to open your fucking mouth,” Munk cursed inside his head as he pushed himself inch by inch towards the pier. “Just had to fucking try and talk your way through this bullshit. You should have started with the magnum and you fucking know it, so I hope you’re enjoying this, because you fucking deserve it, you stupid fuck-up.” Munk surfaced as slowly as he could beneath the wooden slats of the pier hovering overhead. He forced himself to breath quietly, clinging to a barnacle covered pillar as he waited for them to run out of bullets.