Let it never be said that Nathan Drake couldn't run.

But Nate can't run far -- he's quickly becoming coated in blood from the stress on his muscle from the bullet embedded in it, and his arm has begin to swell from the wrist and upward. He'd die within the hour on his own, and he's not even sure he can hobble to the medical bay in time. A torniquette would have been impossible even without his broken wrist.

So he runs until he thinks he's lost Lazarevic and half collapses against the wall, reaching for his watch and its most recent contact.