Click.
A thumb flicked the match several times before the ignition finally produced a bright flame.
Boom!
The thunder shook the air as a man brought the match close to his mouth, covering the flame from the harsh wind.
The cigarette's tip glowed red as he took a deep drag. He removed it and blew out the smoke.
"Hey, brother, I want to smoke too," another man said, patting the first man's shoulder.
"Okay, let me help you," the man with the lighter replied, but as he moved to help his companion, his cheek was splashed by a sticky substance.
Withdrawing his hand quickly, he touched his face and tried to see the wetness on his palm. His eyes widened as the lightning behind them cast light.
Red.
The sticky substance was blood. He hadn't even had time to speak before his consciousness faded away.
The two men on the sentry tower fell limp on the floor.
