50 ! fast ! ok, so i had to write a narrative and continue the story, but i'm nervous about turning it in. can you just read it and tell me what you think about it? like a peer review, i guess,

dublin knew somebody was shooting at him directly. he knew the same way that he knew the flash of fire from his lighter had given him away. he yawned. dublin was very tired and the last thing he wanted to do was have a shoot-off. it was pointless, a waste of time. he knew that he would be able to kill anyone without having to reload his gun, for he had never missed a single shot. he winced, as he heard the reload of his enemy’s gun, and held his breath as the bullet barely missed his arm. he knows where i am, he thought. he took a deep breath; he was preparing to fight.
he silently reached over to his left, and grabbed his rifle. and he slid it over to him. when he finally had it positioned, underneath his right arm because he was laying on his stomach, he looked through the thermal scope. scanning the weathered building across from him, dublin suddenly became aware of how exposed he was. he was on the bottom story of an abandoned building, in an abandoned city. laying on the floor, looking outside, looking out where a wall should have been. the roof was caving in, and there were multiple holes in it. he could smell mildew and mold everywhere. but aside from him and his belongings, the room was bare empty. the other buildings were not in very good shape either. he spotted the enemy, the person lit up red in his scope. but dublin was confused. the person was very small, and only had a small gun to defend himself. through the scope, it looked the size of a pistol. that’s why they kept missing, he thought. but the person that was shooting at him was not a fighter, he guessed because of the way he had his knees drawn up to his chest. he was probably just scared, i just spooked him by lighting my cigarette. then everything clicked into place, the shooter was a woman. lost in his thoughts, he missed what was happening, the lady shot right at dublin, and it took everything inside of him not to scream as the round bullet penetrated his leg. he groaned as he sniped out the lady trying to kill him, he felt the smallest bit of sympathy for her as he pulled the trigger. one second later, she fell down, silently.
it was quick, he told himself. she did not even feel it. dublin clicked the safety back on and sat his rifle aside. he groaned as he sat up, and shifted his weight. he allowed himself one tear to express the pain he felt after he’d been shot. he took out his knife and constantly cussed as he dug the bullet out of his left leg. afterwards, he cut off the left sleeve of his jacket, and tied it tightly around the wound. he used his last bit of water to wash the blood off his hands. then he stood up and started limping across the open road to where he shot the lady. completely exposed and wounded, he sent a silent prayer that he would not die here. when he made it across to the other building with the woman, he frowned at her limb body. after a few seconds, he looted her bag, gathering the supplies that she would no longer need. ammo, two pistols, a pack of cigarettes, water bottles, bandages. “these will be ” he said as he stuffed everything in his backpack. and then he made his way back across the road to where he was originally laying. “ you! ” he called back to her as he settled back down underneath his makeshift tent. dublin lit another cigarette, as he silently waited and watched for the next person that would be sent to kill him. they’ll never catch me he thought as he took a deep breath and relaxed his wounded leg. never.