I couldn't believe how much blood had already gathered around Bryce. It had collected in a wide pool and was dripping off the porch.

Ian held his gun firmly trained at Shawn's head.

"You haven't tested anyone, Shawn," he said. "You're not following protocol. Put your gun down. Stop right now."

Shawn didn't put his gun down.

Instead, he pointed it directly at my face.

"New rules." Shawn's gun was inches from my forehead. "Where have you been, Ian? We're out of Insta-Reads. Until the next shipment comes in, it's up to our discretion to expire or arrest." He repeated this phrase like he was reading it from a manual, never taking the gun from my face.

A deafening boom.

Someone had fired their gun.

It couldn't have been Shawn, because when I opened my eyes I was still standing.

My husband was clutching his right hand. He was no longer holding his gun. Ian had shot it from his hand, puncturing his palm in the process.

Shawn screamed out in surprise and pain, staring hatefully at Ian.

"Do not point a gun at Ashley," Ian said flatly, keeping his own gun pointed at Shawn.

I heard my mom screaming from inside the living room as she banged open the screen door and hurried toward Shawn, shrieking.

"He wasn't going to shoot her, Ian!" She completely ignored Bryce and tried to wrap a dishcloth around Shawn's bleeding hand. "He was just doing his job. Somebody has to do their job around here!"

My mom seemed to be losing her mind. Shawn just let her wrap his hand.

"You want a warrant?" Shawn yelled at Ian, staggering in pain toward his truck. "You stay right here. You all stay right on these premises!" he yelled. "There's no doubt I'll get a warrant for him and Ashley both after what I've seen here." Shawn jerked his head toward Bryce, who was gasping and clutching at his stomach. "He'll live," he said. "That stomach wound won't do anything. When I come back with the squad, we're taking both of them in." He looked at Lindsay, bent over Bryce, her knees soaking with his blood. "And you too!" he screamed. "Nobody cleared you to leave the motel!" Now he turned to Ian. "And you most of all! Shooting a Home Guard soldier? Are you crazy? You can kiss your cushy rank goodbye, Ian. Say hello to a court marshal. Just wait. Just wait! Nobody leaves these premises!"

Shawn jerked away from my mom, who was still trying to tie the dishcloth, and he hobbled into his truck.

He sped away in a storm of dust.

Ian said, "We have to go. Now. All of us."

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