Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
No chance.
I can see a couple of these men well enough to be able to identify them. They will have the police knocking on their door tonight, no matter what. After all, what I said is true – it’s all on tape.
They are guilty of poaching, and now one of them is threatening Alana with a gun, they’re likely to spend time behind bars for that.
I’m not going to say that out loud, though. They needed to think they still had a way to get out of this.
There’s a moment of silence, which tells me I’m getting the upper hand. They’re beginning to doubt themselves, wondering if they’ve gone down the right path after all.
“Guns down,” I suggest. “All of us. You open your guns and empty out the shells, put the shells in your pockets, and keep the guns over your shoulders. I’ll do the same. Then we can talk properly. Are we in agreement?”
There’s another pause before I can sense a tiny bit of movement out of the corner of my eye as the men talk amongst themselves.
“Agreed,” a voice comes back, and I hear the clicking and unloading of the guns.
I, myself, don’t move.
“Now you!” they insist from below.
“When he does,” I say, nodding toward the man in the car.
Alana is calm, somehow. She’s been holding onto the dashboard with one hand, her body twisted around to face the poacher. But her face has been turned toward me, and in it, I can see that she isn’t afraid.
Instead, she is waiting for me to save her. There is a quiet confidence in her that I will.
With that kind of encouragement, I sure as hell won’t let her down.
There’s a long moment in which I stare at the poacher in the car, a wiry kind of man with a desperate look about him.
He’s probably some kind of addict or petty criminal who has enough sense to know when he will be in a lot of trouble but not enough sense to stay out of trouble in the first place.
He’s eyeing me with a wide, bloodshot eye until he isn’t anymore. He looks down, breaking eye contact to crack his gun and let the shells drop down into the well of the car seat.
As soon as I’m confident that this man isn’t going to reload, I shoot a look at the others and throw my gun to the side where I can no longer reach it.
I said we should drop the shells, of course. But then they would know there are no shells anyway if I did that. I didn’t want to risk escalating the situation.
I stride away from the gun, toward the man in the car beside Alana. “You,” I shout, pointing at him. “Will get out of my vehicle.”
“No, I won’t,” the man sneers, though a flash of fear in his eyes tells me all I need to know. “You better let me drive away.”
I ignore what he says and stride right to the driver’s side door. In his haste, the poacher didn’t even close it behind him – perhaps because there isn’t enough room to hold and aim his shotgun with the door in the way.
I grab the man’s arm, fully intending to haul him out bodily – but to my surprise, the wiry poacher is stronger than he looks, clinging onto the car seat and refusing to budge.
“Get out!” I say through gritted teeth, ready to pull him back with all my strength.
“No, I…!” the poacher starts, but he never finishes. Instead, Alana leans back and plants a swift kick against the arm that is holding him onto the chair, knocking out the main source of his strength.
He tumbles backward, and I manage to step to the side to effectively throw him onto the ground, where his back meets the hard rocks hiding just under the moss and heather with a thud.
He turns immediately and tries to roll away, which I take as an indication that he’s survived his fall.
I glance in at Alana, see her nod of confidence, and close the door to shut her in alone so no one else can easily sneak back in.
I reach down, grab the poacher by his collar and half-drag him over to the crest of the hill.
“Right!” I shout for the benefit of those below. “Take your guns and get off this land right now. If you don’t, I’m picking that gun back up and picking you off one by one. And I can guarantee I’m a better shot than any of you, lads. I grew up on this land, and I know it.”
Then, with an abrupt shove, I launch the poacher rolling down the side of the hill to join his mates. One of them even has to jump aside to avoid being bowled over by him.