It wasn't the fire that killed him. It wasn't the concussive force or the heat. He was hours dead by then. And wasn't the wound that had been torn through his guts. It was the complications, though. Complications.

Sgt. Wells died looking into the eyes of a monster, died when he saw what he would become. And God help him, it was something he never wanted his wife to see. Photo clutched in his hand, he knew he was a dead man. The explosion would be his gravestone, and he wanted his epitaph to be a good one.

Goodbye Annie...