Killer Instinct

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I’d never fired a gun before.

In fact, before this evening, I’d never even held one.

It was a Colt.45 semiautomatic pistol, and it felt heavy and awkward in my hand. Its grip was rough. I couldn’t steady the weapon. Still, I was close enough to him now to put a bullet in the center of his chest. If I didn’t-if I didn’t kill him now-there was no question he’d kill me. I was no match for him, and we both knew it.

It was the middle of the night, and we were the only ones on the twentieth floor, probably in the entire building. Outside my office the maze of cubicles was dark. All those people who worked with me and for me, I’d probably never see again.

My hand was trembling, but I squeezed the trigger.

Just a few days ago, if you looked at me you’d see a successful corporate executive. A guy with a high-powered job married to a beautiful woman. A man for whom everything seemed to be going perfectly.

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