Free Falling by Susan Kiernan-Lewis Page B

Sarah dared not take her eyes off the man in her sights. She knew she should be taking the measure of the speaker. Clearly, he was the leader. She felt a tinge of gratitude that John had disappeared.
                “You’d better get out of here,” Sarah said, aware that her voice was coming from a place she didn’t recognize.
                The speaker laughed. “American?” he said. “I’ve seen the telly. She’s American,” he said to his companions.
                Another man laughed. The one who’d stepped forward had not come any closer. He watched her eyes carefully and grinned at her through broken teeth.
                Not caring that they could see what she was doing, Sarah dug into her pocket and fished out a third round. Her eyes never left the man in front of her.
                “Oh, so you’ll be needing to reload to dispatch the lot, eh?” The speaker laughed and slapped the man next to him. “She’s got two chances then she’s done,” he said. “You take ‘er, I’ll get the boy—”
                The words weren’t out of his mouth before Sarah shot him.
                He screamed and grabbed his upper arm which instantly mushroomed red.
                Sarah recovered quickly from the recoil and turned the gun on the nearest man to her when he suddenly made a strangling noise and pitched forward. When he went down, Sarah saw John standing behind him with a large manure shovel in his hands. She didn’t waste the moment he’d given her. She swiveled the gun barrel to the third man and, without taking her eyes off him, shoved another round into the rifle and slid the action forward. She repeated it with a third round. One man lay stunned at her feet, another stood hopping up and down and cursing while he clutched at his shoulder.
                “I got one for each of you now,” she said.
    The unharmed man slowly raised his hands in surrender.  
                Now what?     
                Sarah took a deep breath and felt the arm that held the gun begin to shake.
                John approached with the shovel.
                “Keep ‘em covered, Mom,” he said.
                Sarah nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She took another deep breath. John turned to look at her and she gave him what she hoped he would interpret as a meaningful look. Then she spoke:
                “John, you remember why we had to kill that dog that was savaging our sheep?”
                John looked at the men. “It was because we couldn’t trust it wouldn’t return and kill more sheep,” he said.
                “Sure, you’re not thinking of killing us in cold blood, missus?” The man with his arms upraised looked from Sarah to the man who was bleeding. “Mack, you hear this maniac?”
                “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Sarah said. “It’s not personal.”
                The wounded man looked at Sarah, his face contorted with loathing. “You can’t just shoot us,” he said.
                “I’m protecting my family,” Sarah said, feeling stronger every second. “I’ll need you to stand away from the barn a bit. I don’t want to have to drag bodies any further than I need to…”
                The stunned man began to stir on the ground.
                “You better get your buddy there to connect with the program, Gilligan,” Sarah said, indicating the groaning man on the ground. “He makes me nervous.”
                “Michael, wake up. Wake up, you stupid sod!”
                “Yeah, Michael, wake up, you stupid sod,” John said, nudging the man with the shovel.
                “Language, please, John,” Sarah said.
                “We’re begging you, Missus. We never woulda hurt you and