July 27, 1880

I captured the pack horse as ordered while he went for the injured gunner. Now he's disappeared, swallowed by dust and smoke.

Shots! Sounds like his Webley… the nullah to the east!

Two bodies? Local women out for an evil gleaning. Serves them right.

Snipers everywhere. Blood trail leading to... There he is, wounded, cornered; too weak to even raise his revolver.

He gives me that stupid Watson grin, but this time without an accompanying smart remark. Another bullet whistles through the air… getting closer.

If we make it out of here alive, I swear I'm going to kill him.

Author's Notes:
For the prompt: Describe Watson injury, from a different Point Of View than Holmes. I chose Murray.