It punctures his back, piercing his lungs.

It found its mark, and it sank into his flesh. The pain was white hot, burning through him. Noah cried out, falling to the ground, clutching in vain at the handle protruding from between his shoulder blades. He felt the blood fill his lung, his last image being Scarface leaning over him, a triumphant smirk on his face.

Then all was white, and all he could think about was Oliva, waiting for him at home.

Till death do us part...