Deceit. [COMPLETED.]

Chapter 85

"I'm coming home."

It was true what people say; that in times of danger your life flashes before you. It probably had something to do with your fight or flight reflexes. You are overwhelmed with emotions. Your own morality is challenged. Both good and bad manifest themselves in images you have no control over leaving yourself at their mercy until finally and without choice you respond.

Jenny Stamford opened the door on time. Picking up the small carpet was simply an impulsive act and it probably saved her life.

In the time it took her to open the door, see the gunman and then scream Jenny saw her life coming to an end. It was as finite as it was brutal. Surprise gained a small foothold at first, it festered for a few milliseconds but once she saw the gun aimed at her chest acceptance of her imminent death reigned supreme and so she simply waited.

That was her fight.

She didn't back away. She didn't wince at the prospect of being the first to die. She just stood tall and accepted what was about to happen.

Until the living room window was smashed and in that split second Jenny's mindset turned from fight to flight and she made her escape.

Only she wasn't fast enough.

The first bullet penetrated the rolled up carpet hitting her in the stomach with a lesser force than if she had been defenceless but the second round was unobstructed and hit her arm.

She tumbled to the floor. It felt as if she had been punched hard in the stomach. Her breaths became ragged and she tried to crawl away but when the dining room window shattered a few feet from her she stopped. She heard a single shot.

For what seemed an age she simply laid there unsure of what was happening.

And then she heard her friend Tina shout.

She knew something had gone terribly wrong. Her friend's voice sounded strained. It was unscripted.

So she waited a while longer until she heard a scuffle. It sounded like men were fighting.

She inched her way back and found the front door taking in the scene. Attwood had managed to get outside and was now trying to overwhelm the gunman who in turn was trying to reach a small black box in the middle of the drive.

Jenny studied the object and then her eyes opened wide. It was a remote detonator.

Impulse urged her forwards only as she started to move so she became aware of a human form standing close by. It was her Amy.

She then saw the man look at her daughter. Time slowed. She saw the gunman turn her Kirk sideways. She saw him catch sight of her Amy. She then saw him reach across and pick up a gun that was lying nearby.

For all intense and purpose, Jenny had given up on life the day she had been brutally raped. Existence to her became subjective. She had money. She had mobility but she never truly felt alive. Death to her was a simple tangible state forever within easy reach and when the gunman pick up his gun Jenny Stamford never hesitated to launch herself up into the path of the bullet.

It ripped into her flesh just above her pelvis dropping her back to the floor sending more pain up into the base of her skull. She landed heavily unable to move.

Another shot rang out and then silence.

'Oh my God no. Please no.'

She recognised the voice and felt a hand gently turn her onto her back.