Page 129 of Last Light

It’s that yelp that pierces the fog of panic in my brain.

Guns are firing. Travis is standing there unprotected. He’s going to get shot for sure.

And one of those bastards just hurt my dog.

I don’t care what Travis told me. I’m not going to run away. I’ve only taken about three steps, but I whirl back around, pulling my pistol out of my holster.

If anyone in this world belongs to me, it’s Travis and that dog.

And both of them are in danger right now.

I see one of the men aiming at Travis, so I shoot. I miss on the first shot, so I try again. This time I hit his shoulder, and he goes down.

The dog is still on his feet, and he runs over to stand over the wounded man, snapping aggressively. Even if the man was capable of it, he’d never be able to get back on his feet with the dog keeping him down.

Travis must have shot the third man because he’s lying on the ground and not moving.

The grizzled man has been shot too, but he’s lurching back to his feet.

Travis has been hit. There’s blood on his thigh. But he must just be grazed because the injury isn’t getting in his way. He’s still on his feet, reloading his gun so quickly I can barely process the movement.

But it’s not quite quick enough.

I turn my pistol on the grizzled man, but he fires before I can pull the trigger. He’s aiming right at Travis.

I hear the shot. See where the barrel is pointing. Travis is just starting to raise his shotgun when he’s hit.

I’ve read in books that events shift into slow motion in a time of crisis, but it’s never happened that way for me. Usually they blur for me, happening so fast I can barely track specific moves.

But the world slows down to a crawl right now. There’s far too long a delay between the sound of the shot and Travis jerking backward from the impact.

I actually see the bullet go in, tearing open his shirt, his chest. I see the blood spreading out onto the gray fabric. And I see him falling backward.

It takes him way too long to hit the ground.

I hear the thud when he lands.

I scream. At the top of my lungs. Absolute outrage.

I raise my gun again and fire at the grizzled man. I’m so out of it that my aim isn’t good. The bullet brushes past his hair.

He’s got an ugly smirk on his face as he steps closer to Travis, who is now sprawled out on the ground. The man is ignoring me. He assumes I won’t be able to hurt him. He’s going to shoot Travis again to make sure he’s dead.

I know it for sure.

I aim again. My hand is so wet with perspiration that I can barely keep the gun still. I fire. This time I hit his side.

He grunts in pain, takes a couple of steps back. Then he turns his gun on me.

He’s angry now. He’ll kill me if he can.

I shoot again. This time I hit him square in the chest.

He falls and doesn’t move again.

I drop my gun and run over to Travis, collapsing to my knees beside his body. “Oh God! Travis? Travis! Oh please, God, please don’t let him be dead!”

To my surprise, Travis’s eyes are open when I reach out for him. He’s got a faint smile on his pale lips. “Oh darlin’. You did real good.”

---