Page 98 of Rigid

I heard a dull thud. Then, another. And, another.

I looked for my phone, couldn’t find it, and tip-toed toward the Sonos player. After pausing the music, I stood still and listened. My own heartbeat was all I could hear.

Then, the sound of muffled grunts from outside sent chills along my spine.

It sounded like it was right outside the door.

I ran to the bedroom, opened the dresser drawer, got the gun, and rushed to the living room window. After a deep breath, I pulled the blind to the side and peered out into the dark.

I didn’t immediately see anything. I scanned the yard from left to right. Then, I saw everything.

No.

No.

Oh my fucking God.

No.

I ran to the door, yanked it open, and leaped onto the porch.

What I feared was happening was happening.

My stomach heaved. The taste of bile rose in my throat.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. Not so much as a squeak.

Never, under any circumstances, point a gun, any gun, at something you aren’t 100% comfortable shooting.

I raised the pistol, and quickly realized they were way too far away.

I opened my mouth again.

Nothing.

At the end of the driveway, the devil himself was sitting on top of Eddie. His hands were swinging wildly, and he was beating her like he was trying to kill her. What little noise she had been making only a few seconds prior had ceased.

Panic shot through me, all but crippling me.

His fists crashed down against her face, one after the other. Then he yanked on her hand, lifting her torso from the driveway each time he pulled against it.

Seeing it was killing me inside. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t speak, and I was shaking like I was naked in Antarctica.

Motherly instinct took over. Without thought or hesitation, I ran off the porch and burst out across the yard in a dead run. Smokey’s words ran through my mind.

You want someone to do something. If that’s the case, you point the gun, and give your demand.

“Hey motherfucker!” I half screamed, half blubbered. “Get off my daughter!”

He glanced at me, and then yanked against her hand again.

When I reached them I could clearly see that Eddie was not okay. On her back, and either unconscious or dead, she wasn’t moving. The man on top of her seemed to be in another world, and continued pulling against her hand.

Beside her, a cellphone lay on the concrete.

If you can point your finger at something, you can point the gun at something.

I pointed the pistol at his head.