Word Count Wednesday and Sharing Your Favorite Page

I've noticed something since I've made an extra effort in my writing this past week.  When I'm excited about a scene, the words just seem to flow onto the page.  Also, when I'm writing late at night, my words seem really silly when I read them the next morning.  (note to self:  do not write description scenes after midnight).

So, today, since I'm so excited about my writing and the progress I've made, I thought it would be fun if we all posted our favorite page that we've written (double-spaced 12 point font) for everyone to read and comment on if they feel like giving feedback.  I'll post mine here, and you can post yours in the comments because if you do a double-spaced page it fits quite nicely.  I know it will take some courage to put yourself out there, but if I can do it, you can, too!  Believe in yourself and in your writing friends who want to help you.  Including me!

This is my current favorite page (it will change tomorrow, I know, but for right now, this is it.)

All of Rafe’s military training kicked in and he got down, looking for cover, reaching toward Claire as he did so.  He tried to make himself as small of a target as possible, but it felt like the bullets raining down on them were getting closer and closer.  He wanted to run, but his knee gave out.  Pulling himself toward the exit, he looked up just as Gary moved in front of him, his throat caving in right before his eyes with a small rush of air sailing by.  Gary staggered toward Rafe, the front of his blue shirt starting to stain dark as he fell to the ground.  “Too late,” he gasped.

His eyes stared at Rafe as he hit the concrete and it was easy to see he was dead.  Rafe stared in horror.  It was déjà vu all over again.  Time seemed to stand still, Rafe’s heartbeat the only signal that seconds were still passing.  Blood was everywhere and his friend was dead. 

“Stay down,” Claire shouted to Rafe, grabbing his arm with one hand as she grasped her neck with the other before a bullet hit her square in the chest.  She fell to the ground and Rafe reached for her, curling his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his arms as he pushed through the pain in his leg.  Picking her up, he started to run for the door.  Not again, he said, as he ran.  Please, God, don’t let this happen to me again.

“The bomb,” he gasped, as he staggered a bit toward the stairs. 

His words were lost in the explosion behind them and Rafe did his best to cover Claire’s body with his own.  He tried to shield her as a steel ball ricocheted off the concrete and hit him in the back, the trajectory making him stumble and fall flat on top of her.  The pain knocked the breath out of him, but he knew he had to get them both out of there before the gunman finished his job. 

What do you think?  *bites nails*

As for word count this week, since I'm revising it wasn't great, but I've gotten six chapters revised so far, so I'm feeling good  How did you do this week?