bang“NO!” Her voice echoes.
I snap my eyes open in shock, just in time to watch Brock"s shoulders slump and his body limp as he collapses. Falling straight forward, he lands across my chest. He"s heavy, and the weight of him crushes my already struggling lungs. I manage to take a long draw of humid air through my straining nostrils. Standing in the doorway is a crippled old man. His twisted wooden cane supports his small, hunched over body. With one hand he grips the cane tightly, and with the other he holds a small black pistol. Very steadily it is held, still pointing directly over me.
“Brock, oh my God.” My mother struggles.
She jumps to her feet and pulls him off me. He"s limp, and it leaves a fresh streak of blood, soaking my top.
“First Kam, and now you.” She falls back to her kn
