There was mostly silence now. Some of the groaners learned to stay quiet because sound attracted bullets like blood attracts sharks. I was alive and unharmed. The shooter was probably okay too. While professionals do get hurt, I didn’t see anyone that could match his skill. Every shot was a precise one, every bullet found a target.

A knock pounded on the door, impossible loud after all the gunfire.

“Open up!” A voice shouted distorting through the metal door.

Footsteps receded from nearby me to the door. A crack of blinding light appeared. I squinted and prayed for invisibility.

From the outline, it looked like some punk kid- skinny, beanie, and sun glasses too big for his face.

“Sorry I’m late, an overturned truck-” He never got to finish his sentence. The kid’s head exploded in a shower of dark chunks, a silhouette of murder.

I watch Rattlesnake pick up the case, check its contents and walked away whistling Andy Griffith.

Sirens sounded too soon for me, too late for the other guys.