The storm was passing and the rain eased enough for other sounds to penetrate the night. Crackling and popping from the poor cottage. A distant siren. A snap as a twig was broken beneath a foot.
Vince held his breath and tightened his grip.
A shadow moved past his hiding place and stopped.
The ominous click-clack as the rifle was readied and then Farrelly raised it and fired at Vince’s coat on the tree.
Branch in both hands, Vince swung with all his strength, hitting the back of Farrelly’s head with a satisfying thwack. The man collapsed face down and the rifle flew from his grasp.
Are you dead?
He searched for the rifle in the grass where he thought it had fallen. Not there. He doubled back, eyes on the ground. Leaving it here wasn’t an option.
‘Now I have another reason to kill you.’
Vince spun. Farrelly was on his knees, rifle pointed, blood pouring down the sides of his head.
‘And then I’ll find the kid. And the neighbour for good measure.’
Sirens drew closer. Farrelly glanced in the direction for an instant and Vince threw himself toward the closest tree.
BANG.
Piercing pain.
His right leg wouldn’t work, and he dropped to the ground, crying out in agony and despair. It was over. Farrelly was on his feet, walking toward Vince as he reloaded. It wasn’t meant to end this way. Here, in Susie’s orchard.
Police were close. He’d seen the cars hurtling up the driveway. Melanie would be safe.
I protected her, Susie.
Farrelly raised the rifle and aimed directly at Vince.
BANG.
BANG.
Mouth open in shock, Farrelly sank to the ground clutching his chest.
It didn’t make sense. He was shot, not the killer. But there was no life in the other man’s eyes.
The world went silent.