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You wrap your hand around the nearest thing to you, moving slowly, slowly, and hoping the darkness will prevent him from seeing your fingers closing around the cold metal shaft.

"Kendall, I said get up," Wes says. His voice is low and dark.

"Okay," you reply. You shift your weight, raising yourself little by little, one hand lifted as if to impress upon him that you're not going to do anything stupid when he has a gun trained on you...and as you move, the heavy object you've grabbed comes with you, hanging in the darkness at your side. You are turned slightly away from Wes, and you pray to whatever forces you believe in that he does not see it. In a cold sweat, you shift your gaze from the barrel of the gun to Wes's shadowed face.

"You know where you're supposed to be," he says in a quiet, patient tone.

Glancing back toward the stall, you swallow. "Wes—"

And when you turn your head back toward him, you raise the heavy object in your hand—it's a rusted monkey wrench, you notice with a distant part of your mind—and you fling it directly at his head, throwing yourself to the side in the same breath.

The silence shatters as the gun goes off, and you feel the bullet graze past your arm. Quick on the heels of the gunshot is Wes's curse. You hit him square in the face; he's knocked off balance, stumbling backward, and covers his left eye with his hand, swearing.

You have an instant to make a decision: make it!


Now that he's off-kilter, tackle him and fight for the gun! [[Go to Chapter 81

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Now that he's off-kilter, tackle him and fight for the gun! [[Go to Chapter 81.]]

Are you kidding? RUN! [[Go to Chapter 49.]]

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