Revenant

Chapter 27

I had learned of the possibility of Stevie's presence fractionally before Alaric, so when both our brains came out of their respective stupors and began functioning again, I had a bit of a head start.

Based on our history, I considered myself quicker at drawing a gun than Alaric under normal circumstances. These, however, were definitely not normal circumstances.

When it becomes clear that a firefight is about to erupt I always watch my opponent carefully to see if they're attempting anything sneaky, or making a sudden move for their weapon, or leaning back slightly, or any one of a dozen things that my brain sort of automatically registers, assesses, and then files away for when the time comes to act. This is one of the reasons why I'm still alive and watching people.

And when I do notice that someone is suddenly making a move for their gun, my typical reaction is to want to make an even more sudden move for mine, along with any other kinds of sudden movements that I figure might be helpful, at which point things typically get very loud and exciting. Of course, you don't necessarily have to wait for the other person to make a move - you can always initiate the first move yourself, make for your gun, likely prompting your target to do the very same thing. This usually gets similar results with respect to volume and excitement as well.

There are, however, situations where going for your gun right away either isn't possible, or isn't your best option. Like when your gun is in the thigh pocket of your cargo pants instead of hanging from a shoulder holster like you've been pretending. Oh sure, I'd already formulated a plan how to get to my gun, but it was a risky sort of thing, and nothing I'd ever practiced doing.

So, when I saw Alaric start to reach for his gun, I knew I couldn't simply go for mine. In a nanosecond, all of the little things I'd picked up while carefully watching Alaric flashed through my brain before I even had a chance to consciously think about them.

Left handed. Torso turned slightly to his left, away from me, weight on his right leg. Had been focused on me, but his attention was temporarily focused on Stevie. One man down, his side of the building - Stevie was the biggest immediate threat. First shot wasn't going to be coming at me.

Move.

I lurched backward and to my right, just as Alaric drew his weapon and pointed it at Stevie, his expression suggesting that shock, surprise, and urgent concern were all warring for control of the more expressive muscles in his face.

Alaric fired a quick shot at Stevie, then a second one, followed by a glance in my direction. I knew he was aware of the fact that I was moving, so there'd be a shot coming my way very shortly, and I needed to keep moving if I were to avoid it.

I dove forward with my left shoulder and turned it into a roll, during which time both figures on the far end of the building became something of a blur. There was third shot, and I heard a loud crack from the red bricks directly behind me.

I came out of my roll, flattened myself out with my legs pointing at Alaric so I'd present less of a target. I brought my right knee up about halfway to my chest, thrusting my right hand down into my pant pocket as I did so. Once I'd firmly gripped the handle of the gun, rather than take the time to pull it out, I aimed my leg a little and squeezed the trigger.

A painful explosive shock ripped through my leg right around the knee, or just below it. A quick glance told me that my bullet had torn a smoking hole through the bottom of my pant pocket, and that there was another thinner but longer hole in my pant leg beyond it. Grazed, probably bleeding.

My shot missed Alaric's head by almost a foot and a half, but it certainly got his attention. I briefly considered lowering my leg a bit more and getting another round off, but the pain in my knee told me it was a bad idea, so I attempted to pull my gun free from the pocket instead.