[Aaron's POV]
Gunshots echoed.
Pain erupted on his side, and he was falling... onto the floor.
Aaron scrunched his face as he blinked his eyes at the sight of his bedroom's white ceiling. He raised his head, propped his elbows, and rolled to his side. Carefully, he rose from the floor, scratching his head. "Fuck!"
It was the same dream again.
Despite his trainings and years of experience as a patrolman, that was the first time he faced death up close. One moment, they were discussing among themselves what to eat for dinner after accompanying the inmates to the correctional facility; the next, their transport vehicle had stopped on an almost empty road.
