TwentyThe shotgun went off, the blast filling the night, shattering it as well as the bodies of the militiamen within range. Curtis fired off a single round, the heavy bullet slapping into the chest of the closest militiaman. He didn't wait to admire the effect, taking the embankment at a slide, allowing himself to cartwheel downwards towards the river's edge. He knew full well that the bullets would have little lasting effect, but they afforded him some precious time. As he slid through the mud, other shots rang out, this time from the militia above him, and a few bullets whizzed past his head. The darkness provided some cover, of course, and down by the waterside even the torches couldn't pick him out in the gloom.
“Move yourselves,” he screamed to the two companions close by. They were
