Hermit on the run

Attacked

Several Years Later
It was fall, and slowly getting colder each night, but not cold enough for frost. A thick fog rolled in, so Mia and I stayed inside. We were cooking dinner together, laughing and having a great time.
Then, bang! A shot rang through the south-facing window of the kitchen. I quickly tackled Mia down to the floor.
"What's happening?" She yelled.
"I'll explain later," I replied. "Go to the north part of the property where we have that underground cellar. Wait till I come find you. And take this!" I said, handing her the only gun I had, which was a M1911 handgun. She crouched down and slipped out the back door, running for her life.

I crawled to my room, grabbing my crossbow, a few homemade smoke screens, and my combat knife. I lit the smokes and tossed them out through the window and doors. Slipping out the west window, I began sprinting for the trees. When I had reached them, I turned back, looking at the cabin.
Five heavily armed men entered as I watched carefully while loading my crossbow. From the sounds of it they were looking for something or someone. They left the cabin and stood there. I took aim and fired the shot. Target hit.
They spotted me. Crack! I ducked the shot, retreating into the trees beside me, then made a break for it. Before long I lost sight of them and climbed a tree to get a better vantage point, then reloaded. I had three shots left—and four hostiles.
Mia POV
I ran farther than I thought I ever could and still kept going. All the while my mind was screaming, Turn back and help him! But still I ran.
Suddenly I heard the snap of twigs nearby. It could be anything, I thought: a cougar, bear, wolf, or the people who fired on us. Just my luck!
As the sounds got closer, I raised the gun. There was someone armed with a rifle. I fired twice; the first shot missed, but the second hit his arm which was holding the gun. I fired again and he fell to the ground,dead. I felt sick,tossing the gun away,I broke down in tears, knowing that I had killed someone.
Once I calmed down, I groped around in the dark for the gun until I found it. Then I continued to walk, and eventually found the cellar. It was basically a small cube in the ground, with the dirt peeled back, held up by sticks. When I asked John what it was a week ago when he built it, he said it was a cellar for storage. I didn't believe him but didn't want to argue. I crawled inside. The darkness consumed me. It was cold and damp. I was sure there were a few spiders or other bugs crawling on me. "Better than being shot." I thought. I crouched down and waited. I prayed that John would be alright. I waited ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Then, after what felt like an hour, I heard one single shot, and then silence.