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back at me.
    I kept thinking about what to do as I heard McBride start up the van. I could kick off my shoes and try to open the side door with my feet.
    I almost laughed at the absurdity of that thought.
    It might be better to try and get the ropes undone. If I tried, I found that I could move the fingers of my left hand just slightly. Just as I began to wriggle my fingers, I shot forward as the van pulled out of its parking space.
    Now lying on my side, I took a breath, found my bearings and, once again, tried to wriggle my fingers.
    That was when I heard the first shot fire. I felt the back of the van drop as though one of the tires had been shot out.
    I knew, at that moment, that it was Mike.
    The van careened and I felt myself being bounced around as McBride sped up, trying to drive on only three good tires.
    Another shot sounded from the front and the van thudded to a halt as the front of the van took a sudden plunge.
    I flew against the wall of the van and hit my head in a way that I knew would leave a bruise. But, it had taken me to the side door.
    If I could reach it, I might not need to free my hands. I might, just might, be able to grab hold of the door and open it with my hands still tied.
    As I turned my back to the door and pushed against the ropes to reach for the handle, the side door slid open and I nearly fell onto the pavement.
    A strong arm grabbed me and lifted me bodily.
    My heart leaped for a moment, hoping to see Mike. Instead, McBride’s face was looking down at me.
    He hoisted me to my feet and immediately placed me in front of him. Before I could take in the sight in front of me, I felt the metal barrel of a gun pointing at my temple.
    Shaking, I moved my eyes to take in my surroundings. Mike was indeed there. Zach, Tom, and Dave were all standing beside him, guns drawn and pointed directly at McBride.
    “Make one more move and I’ll blow her brains out,” McBride said pulling one arm around me so that I was flush against him. He pushed the gun barrel against my head.
    “James, you don’t have to do this,” said Mike, who was directly in front of us. “It’s me you want. She doesn’t have anything to do with it. Just let her go.”
    McBride seemed to hesitate for a moment. That was when my overwrought brain finally came up with a plan.
    “Drop your guns,” McBride said after a moment’s silence.
    Mike kneeled and put his gun on the ground. He signaled for the three men around him to do the same.
    He came up with his hands raised in a sign of surrender. I felt McBride relax slightly behind me.
    That was when I kicked my leg backward as hard as I could forcing my heel to connect with McBride’s groin.
    He cried out in pain as he released me and his gun clattered to the pavement. Hastily, I ran forward and grabbed it awkwardly, my hands still tied at the wrists.
    All the same, my fingers were just barely able to reach the trigger. I pointed the gun shakily at McBride.
    For a moment, I thought it was over. That he would stay where he was until the police arrived.
    Then, I saw his face change from a grimace of pain to a malicious and angry glower.
    He lunged towards me and without thinking I pulled twice on the trigger. I heard a thud as McBride slumped to the ground.
    When I lowered my shaking hands, I moved forward towards his still body.
    I saw two bullet holes in his chest. One just at his heart.
    His eyes seemed to be wide with surprise though I knew that he could no longer see, could no longer breath.
    He was dead.
    *****
    The police arrived at the scene only two minutes after I shot McBride. Of course, I along with Mike and his buddies had to go down to the police office and give a statement.
    We sat there for nearly two hours. Me with a blanket around my shoulders and Mike sitting beside me on the bench while he waited for Zach, Tom and Greg’s interviews to finish.
    We didn’t talk when we were at the police station. We didn’t talk when Mike walked me home to the apartment