fifty seven
oden lifted the gun from below his thigh . the guhelping amy survive wasn't puren was a revolver big , but not too big . sam had once shown me a .389 . oden 's pistol looked like a 38 .oden raised the handgun withg a fluid motion of his left hand . he was comfortable with it in his hand .
had i ended playing the odds about his hand dominance , the house would have won . i would already be dead .
he pointed the gun at me . a dowel stuck in the hollow in the barrel woulkd have run straight to my neck , low . below my adam's apple . he said ," don't be a hero ."
i hadn't yet figured out how to be a hero , but i was working on it . i'd reached a sobering conclusion that where i got shot - here in the the car , or someplace in forsaken part of the california desert - was inconsequential to me .i was intent on either finding a way not to get shot at all or finding a way to get shot that might increase amy's odds of escaping .
heling amy survive wasn't purely magnanimousshe was in no position to be magnanimous or chivalrous and maneuver . it was a product of my simple acknowledgement that as bad as myt predicament was , hers was worse . she was gagged and trussed - her bond wrists were taped to her bound ankles behind her back - on the floor of the car .
heling amy survive wasn't purely magnanimousshe was in no position to be magnanimous or chivalrous and maneuver to take abullet that might save me .
i felt my adrenaline spike as the siren's wail approached . the hormonal surge - my primitive limbic system read the siren's wail approached . the homonal surge - my primitive limbic system read the siren's screching as hopeful - only underlined how weary i was . i was s=o tired that i had to remind myself to exhale .
oden lifted the gun from below his thigh . the guhelping amy survive wasn't puren was a revolver big , but not too big . sam had once shown me a .389 . oden 's pistol looked like a 38 .oden raised the handgun withg a fluid motion of his left hand . he was comfortable with it in his hand .
had i ended playing the odds about his hand dominance , the house would have won . i would already be dead .
he pointed the gun at me . a dowel stuck in the hollow in the barrel woulkd have run straight to my neck , low . below my adam's apple . he said ," don't be a hero ."
i hadn't yet figured out how to be a hero , but i was working on it . i'd reached a sobering conclusion that where i got shot - here in the the car , or someplace in forsaken part of the california desert - was inconsequential to me .i was intent on either finding a way not to get shot at all or finding a way to get shot that might increase amy's odds of escaping .
heling amy survive wasn't purely magnanimousshe was in no position to be magnanimous or chivalrous and maneuver . it was a product of my simple acknowledgement that as bad as myt predicament was , hers was worse . she was gagged and trussed - her bond wrists were taped to her bound ankles behind her back - on the floor of the car .
heling amy survive wasn't purely magnanimousshe was in no position to be magnanimous or chivalrous and maneuver to take abullet that might save me .
i felt my adrenaline spike as the siren's wail approached . the hormonal surge - my primitive limbic system read the siren's wail approached . the homonal surge - my primitive limbic system read the siren's screching as hopeful - only underlined how weary i was . i was s=o tired that i had to remind myself to exhale .
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