“The report of the .223 was very loud. I hit the ground with a grunt immediately following the sharp spak of the bullet going through the back window of the closed half of the van where I’d been standing. I rolled over and looked at the bullet hole in the glass, small shards and snow still floating down on me as I reconsidered what an intelligent man would’ve done in this situation. I had an image of my smarter self, munching on a year-old Snickers bar, seated in the relative warmth of the Subur...ban, which I would have parked at the road head. It’s a maxim that in these situations the first person to move is the first person to die. It was possible that the shooter thought he’d hit me and I could wait to see if he’d show, but that meant lying in the snow, exposed for longer than I really cared to be. If I wanted a clear view, I was going to have to crawl out from between the two vehicles, which meant really showing myself, something I was loath to do. I reached over and picked up my hat, dusting it off and placing it back on my head.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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