A Cry in the Dark (Carly Moore #1) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,134
afford not to? Wouldn’t that be akin to letting him kill Wyatt?
I pulled the gun out from my waistband and stood up. “Carson. It’s me you want. I need your word you’ll let everyone else go.”
“Carly, no!” Wyatt shouted from up the trail.
Carson tugged the rifle off his shoulder and aimed it into the trees.
“No!” I shouted, pointing my handgun at Carson. “It’s me you want. Leave him alone!”
“I can take care of you both,” he said, and a shot went off, the boom echoing around us.
I squeezed the trigger, aiming for Carson, but he remained standing. I could only hope his shot had missed too.
“Carly!” Wyatt shouted, sounding panicked.
Carson spun around and pointed his rifle at me, then fired off two shots, but I’d ducked behind the SUV as soon as I saw him turning.
“That’s five,” Marco said with a grimace.
“What?” I asked, shaking my head. I slid toward Marco at the back of the SUV.
“He has ten shots. He’s used five.” When I gave him a blank look, he said, “I know his gun. The cartridge holds ten rounds.”
“If it was a new one,” I said. And I only had three shots left. I couldn’t waste another.
Peering around the back of the car, I spotted Carson standing halfway between the tow truck and the woods, seemingly torn about which direction to take.
“Where’d you get the gun, Carly?” he said into the air.
“Don’t answer,” Marco whispered. “Try again.”
“I can’t kill him in cold blood, Marco,” I whispered back.
“It’s not cold blood when he’s actively tryin’ to shoot you first,” he said.
He was right. If he had the chance, he’d kill all three of us. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to make the remaining three shots count.
Leaning around the back of the deputy’s SUV, I lifted my gun to aim at Carson, but he was gone.
Panic gripped me and I held my handgun up to my chest, the muzzle pointed away from me and up to the sky. I needed to be prepared to shoot, but I had to be sure Wyatt wasn’t in the line of fire.
“Shit,” Marco muttered under his breath, and I turned to see Carson walking around the front of the tow truck, grinning as he strode toward us, his rifle butt tucked under his armpit, the barrel aimed at Marco. I realized I was concealed in shadow and Marco was easy pickings. Without hesitation, I lifted my gun and pointed it at Carson’s chest and pulled the trigger.
Carson grunted, then released a chuckle. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Carly.”
How could he still be talking and advancing toward us? He’d sounded like he was in pain, but he was still moving.
Marco was stretching his hand toward me in desperation, and I knew he wanted the gun. There was no denying he was a better shot, but there wasn’t time.
“I’ll go with you,” I called out. “Unlock your truck and I’ll go with you.”
“I don’t want to take you with me,” Carson said, his voice tight. “I want you dead.”
“Leave her alone, Carson,” someone said from behind me. My brain recognized the voice and struggled to understand how its owner had gotten here—until I adjusted my position slightly and caught sight of the station wagon parked at the opening of the parking lot.
“Leave her alone, Carson,” Jerry repeated in a trembling voice, holding up a handgun with a hand as shaky as mine felt. He stood at the end of Carson’s pickup, and he looked out of breath.
Carson released a short laugh and turned his attention to Jerry. “What are you doin’ here, old man? Go home.”
“You leave her alone. Carly’s a nice girl,” Jerry said.
“Don’t make me sorry I didn’t finish beatin’ your ass last year,” Carson sneered, aiming his gun at Jerry. “You worthless piece of shit.”
Anger erupted in my chest, and I stood, pointing the gun at Carson’s chest. “Don’t you call him that!”
Carson swung his attention to me, grinning like a fool. “There you are.”
He slowly lifted his gun and Jerry pulled his trigger, the shot reverberating in the cold night air. Carson remained standing, unfazed. “When was the last time you went to the firing range, old man?”
Jerry’s next round whizzed past its mark too, and Carson whipped back to shoot him.
I pulled my trigger, this time hitting Carson in the arm.
Crying out, he wheeled back to face me, and I fired another shot, hitting him dead center in his chest again.