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I hoped she would run out the front door of the house and hide somewhere in the forest.
I watched the doorway of the barn like a hawk as cold sweat beaded on my forehead and dripped down my face.
A minute passed.
All I could hear was the rustle of the wind in the trees.
And then…
Amidst the dappled sunshine coming in through the doorway…
A shadow blocked out the light.
Someone was standing in front of the barn.
I gripped the ax handle tighter as the barrel of a pistol appeared in the doorway.
A pistol made sense. A rifle was good for long distances, but a pistol was better up close. Easier to aim and fire quickly.
A few seconds later, the gunman crept through the doorway.
He wore a tan hunting jacket. A black rifle hung on a strap across his back.
He swept the pistol back and forth, looking for me in the barn’s shadows.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t look up.
I stepped off the joist and plummeted down.
He heard the creak of the wood and looked up, but didn’t raise the gun in time –
THOCK!
The ax split his skull right down the center like a ripe watermelon.
He didn’t even have time to scream.
A split second later, my feet hit the concrete floor. Electric bolts of pain shot through my legs as I bent my knees and tried to absorb the impact.
Didn’t help much. I still came crashing down on my hands and knees, agony flaring throughout my body.
At least I was in better shape than the guy with an ax buried in his head.
He crumpled to the floor at the same time as me, his arm flung out, the pistol still in his hand as blood gushed out of his head.
I scrambled over and tried to pull the pistol out of his hand, but the trigger guard caught on his finger –
“STOP!” a man’s voice yelled.
I dove backwards into the shadows, weaponless, and rolled behind the feed bin.
Footsteps clomped on the concrete…
And a shadow appeared in the sunlight on the floor next to the feed bin.
“Fuckin’ hell…” the man muttered, probably as he saw what I’d done to his buddy.
Then he shouted, “Come out!”
