Lonely is death on a dirt road

Gasping for air, he rolled over. Or tried to roll over. His left side wasn't really working anymore. He was pretty sure he was going to lose his arm. Grinning wryly, he thought, "assuming he lived".  The devil was probably paying close attention to his plight. The devil had been waiting for this moment for a long time. But that devil was going to have wait a bit longer, as he mustered up his strength and sat up. That was half the battle right there. His left arm was starting to hurt, "that was good," he thought, "if I can feel it, then I can use it."  His right hand still worked. He had some strength left.
He had been betrayed, beaten, shot and left for dead. He had promised his soul to the devil years ago. All of his careful planning, his building of power, the wealth, none of it could save him now. The devil was coming to collect his due.
But not before he got his revenge. He always had a backup plan.
With his good hand, he fumbled around for his cellphone. He saw it laying just out of reach. If he moved to get it, he would bleed to death in seconds.
As he contemplated what to do, a ghostly hand lifted the phone and tossed it to him. "Well, it's officially a party, Death is here" he mockingly muttered. With a few swipes, and some texting later, the air strikes were safely on their way. As he lay waiting, watching the missiles fall towards him and his targets. He was still in the kill zone.
He just sank back and relaxed and waited on the devil.