You pound on the nearest doorway
You pound until your fists are hurt and bruised. The men are closing
in to a terrifying 20 metres. The door finally opens and you stumble
in, into a man that smells of tobacco, right into his arm that was
holding the door. As I stumble onto his arm, he lets out a yell and
lets go of the door, releasing it so it shuts with a satisfying click.
All you can do is breath a sigh of releaf. You remember the man and
look up expecting to a see a tall, lean but kind-faced man. Instead
you see...
