{Yeah, I like English too, but there are just a lot of times when I'm reading/writing/saying something and I have to stop and think "Why is this a thing?, Why is this not a thing?, etc." about something that I just experienced. People have written whole freaking songs about the many weird bits of the English language. I'm just saying, but whatever.)
Connie suddenly began coughing up blood in large gurgling spurts. Her heart began beating rapidly and her mind struggled to break out of unconsciousness as she struggled to breath.
Up in the attic, Dirk and the other gunners were finishing off the last of the creatures still left from the horde. Dirk placed a well-aimed round through the chest cavity of one of the Runners and scanned for any other threats. Seeing none of the creatures still moving, he stepped back from the window, inserted a fresh 30-round magazine into the M1, and made his way downstairs. He looked around for his sister but couldn't immediately see her, so he assumed that she was simply doing something important and leadership-related somewhere else. He leaned back against the wall for a moment, taking a quick breather. He had been working the powerful Carbine for [insert approximate amount of time battle lasted here] and his right shoulder felt like someone had hit it with a sledgehammer.
(I'm a bit surprised that nobody has noticed Dirk's huge facial scar or the fact that his left eye is blue but his right eye is green yet.
