Of All Sad Words
“His nose hurt, and he smelled dirt and tasted grit.The largest trees are plenty big enough to stop the truck, he thought as he lay there. At least he hoped they were. Maybe the driver would have sense enough to stop.He didn’t. The crash splintered some of the thinner tree trunks, and Rhodes heard them crack. He sat up to look for Ruth and saw that the truck was backing up to make another try at breaking through to him.His head throbbed as he pulled up his pants leg and reached for the .38 in the ankle holster. He ripped the Velcro flap up and jerked the pistol free. He didn’t try to hit the truck’s tires, which he couldn’t see anyway. He fired at the windshield.The first bullet whanged off the brush guard, but the second punched through the windshield, starring the glass.The truck engine stopped roaring for a second. When it started again, the truck was rushing up the hill in reverse. Rhodes knew he couldn’t catch up with it, so he put his pistol back into the holster, smoothed down t...he flap, and looked around for Ruth.She sat with her back against a tree trunk, holding her left wrist.“I think I sprained it,”MoreLess
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