James’s Note: When faced with another chance to be a hero, you couldn’t help but take it. You also decided to give a warning shot… to the face. Let’s see if this worked out better for you than last time.
You look at the group of men threatening the girl. Your dad always told you some people are hardwired to protect others. They just can’t help it. You guess maybe he was talking about you.
You line up your rifle, trying to get a good shot. There aren’t a lot of rounds, so you can’t afford to waste any.
You’re just about to put a round into Mr. Shotgun, when he moves to the right, accidentally putting a defunct pickup truck between you and him.
You swear under your breath and hesitate for a heartbeat before picking a new target. In that heartbeat, one of the men strides forward and grabs the girl by the arm.
She moves so fast you almost miss it. You can barely make out the short curved blade in her hand.
Like a striking snake, she cuts him three times. Once up the inside of his forearm, once across the belly, and once across his throat as he crumples to the pavement. The arterial spray coats the girl in a fine red mist.
Mr. Shotgun comes back into your sight picture, apparently intending to brain the girl with his gun butt. Instead, he catches your first round in his shoulder.
You take a deep breath and a quick follow-up shot. Your second round takes him in the eye.
The last man, seemingly in shock, has been standing mouth agape for the last few seconds. Before he can recover, the girl is on him like an angry raptor.
Not wanting to risk shooting into close combat, you sprint forward to help. You cover the distance as fast as you can. By the time you get there, he’s managed to get on top of her, but you think there’s more blood on the outside than the inside at this point.
You kick him in the back hard, sending him sprawling. He doesn’t move from where he lands, and the crimson puddle underneath him starts expanding faster.
The girl gets up, straightening her bloody t-shirt, and flashes you a sunny smile, as though she weren’t painted in gallons of gore.
“Hey, thanks for that. I was trying to get into the store where I’ve got a weapons stash, but they cut me off.
She absentmindedly brushes the hair out of her face with the hand still holding her knife.
Her head cocks to the side quizzically.
“Wait, you look kinda familiar…”
Recognition hits you like a semi truck.
“Sarah?” You can’t believe it. No way is this Sam’s daughter.
Sarah squeals with delight and pounces on you, hugging you with surprising strength. Also covering you in blood.
“God, am I glad to see you. I’ve been staying at Dad’s old fishing shack, but the supplies are getting kind of thin. I ran into these losers while I was out foraging.”
What do you do next?