Thwack! The bullet bit into the side of the wooden doorframe, inches from the man's head, spraying splinters into his face. The initial shock lasted only briefly, as survival instinct took over, compelling the man to action. Diving back into the house, he kicked the door shut and crawled to the kitchen.
"Get in the basement," he shouted to his wife.
Outside, an authoritative and commanding voice blasted orders through a megaphone. The eerie sound echoed through the walls of the house.
"And what are you going to do?" the worried woman asked nervously. "You can't stop them all. Those are cops!"
"Don't worry about what I'm going to do," he replied tersely. "Just take Ashley and go to the basement."
His wife scooped up their three-year-old daughter. Half running, half falling, she stumbled down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, she heard the door above her slam. In a daze, she scrambled to the far corner, crouching under her husband's workbench, huddling with her daughter.
After they were safely out of sight, her husband moved swiftly to the bedroom. In grim determination, he retrieved a key from his desk. His jaw set with a resolute purpose, he strode to the gun cabinet in the den.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish