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The
barrel
of
the
rifle
caught
on
the
door
jamb
and
he
lost
his
grip
.
I
heard
the
weapon
clatter
to
the
ground
behind
me
as
we
hit
the
kitchen
floor
.
With
the
speed
and
strength
of
the
tetrameth
I
scrambled
astride
him
,
batted
aside
one
flailing
arm
and
seized
his
head
in
both
hands
.
Then
I
smashed
it
against
the
tiles
like
a
coconut
.
Under
the
mask
,
his
eyes
went
suddenly
unfocused
.
I
lifted
the
head
again
and
smashed
it
down
again
,
feeling
the
skull
give
soggily
with
the
impact
.
I
ground
down
against
the
crunch
,
lifted
and
smashed
again
.
There
was
a
roaring
in
my
ears
like
the
maelstrom
and
somewhere
I
could
hear
my
own
voice
screaming
obscenities
.
I
was
going
for
a
fourth
or
fifth
blow
when
something
kicked
me
between
the
shoulder
blades
and
splinters
jumped
magically
out
of
the
table
leg
in
front
of
me
.
I
felt
the
sting
as
two
of
them
found
homes
in
my
face
.
For
some
reason
the
rage
puddled
abruptly
out
of
me
.
I
let
go
of
the
commando
’
s
head
almost
gently
and
was
lifting
one
puzzled
hand
to
the
pain
of
the
splinters
in
my
cheek
when
I
realised
I
had
been
shot
,
and
that
the
bullet
must
have
torn
all
the
way
through
my
chest
and
into
the
table
leg
.
I
looked
down
,
dumbfounded
,
and
saw
the
dark
red
stain
inking
its
way
out
over
my
shirt
.
No
doubt
about
it
.
A
exit
hole
big
enough
to
take
a
golf
ball
.
With
the
realisation
came
the
pain
.
It
felt
as
if
someone
had
run
a
steel
-
wool
pipe
-
cleaner
briskly
through
my
chest
cavity
.
Almost
thoughtfully
,
I
reached
up
,
found
the
hole
and
plugged
it
with
my
two
middle
fingers
.
The
finger
tips
scraped
over
the
roughness
of
torn
bone
in
the
wound
,
and
I
felt
something
membranous
throb
against
one
of
them
.
The
bullet
had
missed
my
heart
.
I
granted
and
attempted
to
rise
,
but
the
grunt
turned
into
a
cough
and
I
tasted
blood
on
my
tongue
.
"
Don
’
t
you
move
,
motherfucker
.
"
The
yell
came
out
of
a
young
throat
,
badly
distorted
with
shock
.
I
hunched
forward
over
my
wound
and
looked
back
over
my
shoulder
.
Behind
me
in
the
doorway
,
a
young
man
in
a
police
uniform
had
both
hands
clasped
around
the
pistol
he
had
just
shot
me
with
.
He
was
trembling
visibly
.
I
coughed
again
and
turned
back
to
the
table
.
The
Smith
&
Wesson
was
at
eye
level
,
gleaming
silver
,
still
where
I
had
left
it
less
than
two
minutes
before
.
Perhaps
it
was
that
,
the
scant
shavings
of
time
that
had
been
planed
off
since
Sarah
was
alive
and
all
was
well
,
that
drove
me
.
Less
than
two
minutes
ago
I
could
have
picked
up
the
gun
,
I
’
d
even
thought
about
it
,
so
why
not
now
.
I
gritted
my
teeth
,
pressed
my
fingers
harder
into
the
hole
in
my
chest
and
staggered
upright
.
Blood
spattered
warmly
against
the
back
of
my
throat
.
I
braced
myself
on
the
edge
of
the
table
with
my
free
hand
and
looked
back
at
the
cop
.
I
could
feel
my
lips
peeling
back
from
the
clenched
teeth
in
something
that
was
more
a
grin
than
a
grimace
.
"
Don
’
t
make
me
do
it
,
Kovacs
.
"
I
got
myself
a
step
closer
to
the
table
and
leaned
against
it
with
my
thighs
,
breath
whistling
through
my
teeth
and
bubbling
in
my
throat
.
The
Smith
&
Wesson
gleamed
like
fool
’
s
gold
on
the
scarred
wood
