Getting Home

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“I’ll be right back,” said Dan.

The woman mumbled something unintelligible. Her hair was in her face, tangled and stained with her own blood. Blood ran down from her nose and into her mouth. The sleeve of her shirt was partially torn open, revealing the gunshot wound she’d received just minutes ago.

Leaving the wounded woman lying against the house, Dan rushed around to the back. The back door was locked. He considered trying to break it down, but it looked sturdily made, with a deadbolt. Dan wasn’t big. He was just a kid, and much smaller than average.

How was he going to get inside the house?

He needed to do it soon. He needed to get himself and the woman out of view and into the relative safety of the home. They both needed to be out of sight. Dan didn’t know where they were, and who was there.

Anyone could come by at any moment.

Dan’s heart was pounding and his throat felt constricted as he scanned the back of the house, looking for a way in.

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