When you step away from the bag, you realize that Kyle has been watching you while you were focused on your placement. "Hey, dude," you say. "Would you be willing to hold some pads for me?"

He shrugs. "Sure, why not? I'm not up to much."

You get him outfitted, and he gamely takes the best you have to offer as you work on combination after combination. Again, you're quite happy with your ability to place a hit and make an impact doing so.

During one particularly brutal flurry, you hear Sierra's voice behind you, saying "General?" Your strikes have been precise to this point, but maybe your focus could use a little work. When you hear her, your fist bypasses the pad completely and hits Kyle square in the jaw. He wilts like a week-old rose and his head impacts the RV floor with a sickening crack.

It's clear that he needs immediate medical attention, and so you have a shaken Sierra place the 911 call. Whatever happens when the first responders come, it's unlikely to be good. Not only have you seriously injured your best friend, but the chances of using this location for the rally have almost certainly reached