St George taking a punch and .50 cal fire from Cerberus

The punch hit him in the face, but the fist was so big the bottom knuckle banged against the top of his chest.
He flew past the old paint building, bounced into the parking lot, and tumbled across the south end of the garden. He came to rest facedown in some dirt with a few blades of grass poking up through it. Dust and dry soil pattered around him.
St. George pushed himself up onto his knees and caught a burst of .50-caliber rounds across the chest. It knocked him back another half-dozen feet. He could hear people screaming. He saw a few figures running through the garden and hoped they were running away.
The hits hurt like all hell. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the rounds might have cracked a rib or two. He rolled to the side and back up onto his knees to avoid a second burst of gunfire. A third point on his rib cage flared with pain.

Excerpt From Ex-Purgatory, pg 585
Peter Clines
https://books.apple.com/us/book/ex-purgatory/id676938479