Diana pulse gun

If she didn’t have a shield, she would have to make one.
The floor was set with huge slate tiles.  She flattened her palms and drove her fingers into the narrow space between two of them, ignoring the pain, and yanked the slab upward.
The man with the big gun fired.  Diana glimpsed a flash of glowing blue light and a wall of pressure slammed into her, knocking her off her feet and hurling her backward, the slab blown to dust in her hand.  She struck the wall, breath releasing in a grunt, and slid to the floor.  Then she was back on her feet, shaking off the force of the impact.