KIERAN SWORE AS DONALD stepped out into the yard and made a beeline for the chicken coop. There was no way he could avoid being seen, which left him wondering how he was going to keep from getting shot and get the shotgun away from the elderly farmer.
For a moment he was tempted to run away and find somewhere else to get a gun, but that would be cowardly, and he refused to think of himself as a coward. There was no way he was going to back away from someone he was sure was old enough to collect a pension.
Staying where he was he crouched as low as possible in the ‘shelter’ of the coop in the hope that the lightning, which had been coming every fifteen to twenty seconds, would hold off. That did not happen, but it did do him the courtesy of waiting until Donald Wilcox was almost on top of
