There's almost no time left.
Quincy has crushed my windpipe like a cardboard cylinder, cutting off my breath. The only oxygen I will ever have is that which is already in my lungs.
Which means I'm only seconds away from death. And when I die, the dead man's switch on my wrist will activate the bomb around my waist.
I decide, as the last act of my life, to take as few people with me as possible.
I relax suddenly in Quincy's grip, as if I am already dead. This lulls him just enough that he lets go of my throat.
And then I throw him.
With every last bit of strength I can muster, I buck and twist my body to one side. Quincy's a big man, but I manage to knock him in the dirt.
Choking, I scramble to my feet and run. I try to get as far from Quincy and everyone else as I can.
My head feels light. Dark spots cloud my vision. My arms and legs tingle with pins and needles.
And then I fall.
I land on my hands and knees, but I refuse to give up. I keep crawling forward, putting one more yard, one more foot, one more inch between me and Quincy.
I hear him shouting behind me, and I keep going.
Until I collapse on my belly in the dirt.