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As Carrie led the way, she was painfully conscious of the gun aimed at her back.
She had noticed several things. He could handle the automatic, but did so awkwardly. He was
right-handed, but he held the gun with his left thumb wrapped over his wrist, the wrong position.
If he fired, the recoiling slide would pinch him, surprising him and slowing him down.
But she wanted the gun before he fired it. Trying to disarm a gunman was an excellent way to
get herself shot to death, and she knew it. She had practiced taking a gun away in training
classes years ago. But in classes only. Never in real life.
At the sound of a car coming down the road, he put his left arm around Carrie’s neck,
imprisoning her. Slowly he moved the gun’s barrel from her temple and aimed it at the path the
car must take to reach the house.
That’s a bad position, Carrie thought with a surge of hope. If he extended his gun much farther,
she could bite him, kick him, give him an elbow strike to the stomach, and grab for his weapon.
If she put the right pressure on the right spots of his arm, she could get the gun, she could even
force him to the ground if she did it right.
Or, if she could break free from him, she had weapons herself in the shed. A spade, a pitchfork,
a rusty ax that stood in the far corner.
My God, could she hit a man with an ax?
What choice did she have, if it came to it?
She had noticed several things. He could handle the automatic, but did so awkwardly. He was
right-handed, but he held the gun with his left thumb wrapped over his wrist, the wrong position.
If he fired, the recoiling slide would pinch him, surprising him and slowing him down.
But she wanted the gun before he fired it. Trying to disarm a gunman was an excellent way to
get herself shot to death, and she knew it. She had practiced taking a gun away in training
classes years ago. But in classes only. Never in real life.
At the sound of a car coming down the road, he put his left arm around Carrie’s neck,
imprisoning her. Slowly he moved the gun’s barrel from her temple and aimed it at the path the
car must take to reach the house.
That’s a bad position, Carrie thought with a surge of hope. If he extended his gun much farther,
she could bite him, kick him, give him an elbow strike to the stomach, and grab for his weapon.
If she put the right pressure on the right spots of his arm, she could get the gun, she could even
force him to the ground if she did it right.
Or, if she could break free from him, she had weapons herself in the shed. A spade, a pitchfork,
a rusty ax that stood in the far corner.
My God, could she hit a man with an ax?
What choice did she have, if it came to it?
Purchase this book at
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Amazon.com
Barnes and Noble
Purchase this book at
Amazon.com
Barnes and Noble
Amazon.com
Barnes and Noble