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A biology lesson for two.

"He's pointing," Adams intoned.

I looked back, grabbing a clip as I did so, and saw Gavers holding up his hand and making a shooting sign toward the end of the shed nearest the vehicles. I slammed the clip home, aimed high on the far side of the shed, and pumped five rounds into the building. As I did so, Gavers extended his arms and pistol through the open window.

I saw only one shot, then Gavers was climbing through the window. The front door burst open at the same time, and Dunlop started careening around the vehicles and through the woods.

"He's getting away," Adams said. "By the propane tank."

I ignored both Adams and the fleeing figure of Charles Lawton Dunlop. My eyes stayed locked on the LaBruzzis. They were both still alive, and there wasn't a doubt in my mind they had weapons.

"You," I said, my eyes staying down the line of the barrel, "get your ass around behind them, then come in low. Stay in the tree line."

"But--"

"But they've got fucking guns, and Gavers is alone in that shed. If only one of them gets out of that car and to that shed, we've got problems."

Without another word, she sprinted off.

A minute later, I saw someone coming back out through the window. She was being shoved out the window from behind and falling with a sluggish thud to the ground four feet below.

I recognized the hair and the frail figure and, for the briefest of moments, allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief. Whitney was safe. For now. She started stumbling up the slope toward the woods opposite the cars, keeping the shed between her and the LaBruzzis. Good.
I turned back to the LaBruzzis. Behind their car, I saw a movement on the slope and knew Adams was coming down behind them. Needing to keep their attention on me, I fired five rounds into the front of their car.

Without warning, an arm reached out the passenger side of the car and squeezed off five rounds in my direction. I ate dirt, trying to dig myself in as deeply as possible. I heard the bullets hitting trees and ground only four or five feet to my left. They had finally seen my muzzle flashes and knew where I was. Though I knew pistols were worthless at that range, all it took was one lucky shot to send me to my maker.

"Drop your fucking guns," I heard Adams scream.

I looked up. She was standing behind and to the left of the car, her arms extended with her pistol pointing at them from behind.

"Now," she screamed. "Out the fucking windows. Now."

After a brief pause, I saw movement and thuds as the pistols hit the ground. Next, Gavers flew out of the building and took up position behind and to the right of the vehicle.

He said something, but I couldn't hear him. He said something more, and both car doors opened. Then the LaBruzzis stuck their arms out, followed by their bodies, and lay flat on the ground next to the car.

Once I saw them cuffed, I hopped up and grabbed my duffle bag. With a final look at the shed below, I turned right and began sprinting along the tree line.

When I saw her just inside the woods, I slowed down. Whitney was looking at the shed, shaking uncontrollably, her face a mask of horror.

"You'll be okay," I whispered as I drew nearer.

She twisted and shrank back, trying to make herself as small as possible.

I stopped in front of her and held my hand out for hers.

"It's me," I said from behind the ski mask. "You're gonna be okay."

In slow motion, her hand reached out to mine. When our fingertips touched, she jerked her hand away, then reached back and clasped me in a death grip.

"Come on," I said. "Let's get you back to them, okay?"

Whitney didn't seem to hear me, but she followed along without hesitation.

As we neared the shed, I stopped.

"You're safe now," I said.

Her hand squeezed mine tighter, refusing to let go.

"I've gotta get out of here, Whit," I said. "You've got to let go. You're safe now."

Still, she wouldn't let go.

"If I'm still here when back up arrives," I said, "it's gonna be bad.

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