The second barrage from the assault rifle had convinced Larry to retreat, not out the back of one of the bedrooms, but down the staircase and out the front door. He heard the empty clip hit the floor, but after missing the first two shots, he was all out of courage. His decision was reinforced when two rounds from a large caliber gun slammed into the woodwork a few feet from where he stood. Definitely time to retreat— to run like a rabbit from a wolf. But running in general wasn’t Larry’s forte, and running down a long, winding flight of stairs was less so. In the murk, he found the handrail on the left side of the staircase. He moved as fast as he could, heavy footfalls that seemed inordinately loud, even on the thick carpet runner that guided him down.
The second barrage from Somewhere
