He thumbed the hammer back even before he had a proper grip of the weapon and brought it up. The lead gunmen were less than a dozen yards away when Marcus started shooting.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Click! Click! Click! Click!

Marcus was still trying to shoot when a hand grabbed the revolver and pulled it from his hands. That panicked him, and he fought for the gun. There was a short struggle before it dawned on Marcus that the person he was fighting was in uniform. Suddenly reaction set in and he lost the ability to stand. He would have fallen but for the policeman catching him and lowering him gently to the ground. Shaking violently he wrapped his arms around himself and tried to shut out the rest of the world.

He was vaguely aware of activity around him. Someone wrapped a quilt around him, and he muttered his thanks. He couldn't take his eyes off the two men lying on the ground a few yards from him. They were dead, and he was alive. Suddenly his stomach heaved, and he barely managed to get his head out of his lap before he threw up. A moment later he heaved again.

"Rinse your mouth out with this," a kind voice said.

Marcus looked up to see a female police officer holding out a mug of something. "Thanks." He sipped the warm brew. It tasted like the light soup that the canteen at work usually had simmering. Feeling brave he had another sip. Slowly he became aware of the world again, and discovered he was sitting in a puddle. He started to move to get out of it when the smell hit him. He felt the heat rising in his face as he realized he'd soiled himself.

"Don't be embarrassed. It's a natural reaction," Sergeant Erika Fleischer said.

"That's easy for you to say. I've still got to get home. ah, shit!" Marcus suddenly remembered why he was out here and not safely at home with his wife and kids.He dropped his head in shame.

"Are you all right?"

"Depends on what you mean by all right." Marcus tilted up his head to look the policewoman in the eyes. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing out here."

"We were sort of wondering that," Estes Frost said.

Marcus looked for the new arrival. "Hi, Estes. I had an argument with Jocelyn. On the bus of all places. I lost my temper and nearly hit her. Bailey and Britney were there." He shuddered. "The look on their faces. " He tried to shake away the memory. "Anyway, I panicked and ran." Marcus looked around and snorted. "And I got lost. That's a joke, isn't it? I got lost in Grantville, a place I've lived nearly all my life. Then I saw a cop." He looked around and noticed the policeman whose gun he'd used was gone. "Is he okay?"

"Thanks to you, he's got a good chance," Estes said.

"What about them?" Marcus gestured to where ambulance staff were loading the bodies onto gurneys.

"They're both dead," Estes said.

"I killed them?"

"You had help. Sergeant Tipton also fired at them."

"What happens now?"

"We take you back to the station to take a statement and get you all cleaned up," Estes said.

A hot shower and a change of clothes, even if they were just a pair of police issue coveralls, made a lot of difference to how a man felt, but nowhere near as much as hearing that the two dead men had been Herman and Wilhelm Kindorf. The relief that they were no longer a threat hanging over his head had brought back his appetite with a vengeance and he'd had no trouble demolishing the bowl of stew he'd been given. He was just wiping the bowl with some bread when someone sat down at his table. He looked up to see a vaguely familiar face. "Hello?"

The young woman smiled and slid a business card across the table to him. "Sergeant Fleischer said you might want to talk to me."

Marcus pulled the card closer and read it. "Dita Petrini, licensed professional counselor." He flicked it back across the table. "I don't need a shrink."

"I'm not a shrink, I'm a counselor. I help people deal with issues. The police call me in every time there's a shooting, especially when there are fatalities. Sergeant Fleischer said you were pretty shaken up."

Marcus remembered how he'd spilled his guts and stared hard at the woman. "I bet she said a hell of a lot more than that."

Dita smiled. "Maybe. But I can help you, Marcus." She pulled a pamphlet from her bag. "You almost hit your wife on that bus, Marcus. You have anger management issues. I can't help you unless you want to be helped, but think of your family." She placed the pamphlet under Marcus' nose and got to her feet. "Think of your family."

Marcus stared after the woman. He saw her stop to chat to several police officers before leaving the canteen. Then he looked down at the pamphlet she'd left behind. It was entitled "Dealing with anger." He started to read it, and recognized himself in the case studies.

A paper bag landed on his table with a thud. "They've hosed the worst of it off. Are you ready to go home?" Estes Frost asked.

Marcus peeked into the bag and saw his dirty clothes. "I guess I better see if I've got a home to go to," he said as he shoved the pamphlet into one of the coverall pockets and got to his feet.

"You do. You wife called when she heard the news."

"I don't deserve her," he muttered as he picked up the bag containing his damp clothes.

"So do something about it."

Marcus put a hand in his pocket and felt the pamphlet Dita Petrini had given him. If he still had a marriage to save, then he'd call her tomorrow.

Marcus felt his heart jump when he saw Jocelyn and the children lined up on the veranda. He held out a hand to Estes. "Thanks."

Estes griped his hand firmly. "No, thank you. But for you we might have lost Officer Schulze."

"I hate to disillusion you, Estes, but everything I did out there I did for me."

"Sure, I understand that. But if you hadn't been there Schulze might be dead."

Marcus climbed out of the car, with his bag of clothes held to his chest. He waited for Estes to back out and go wherever he was supposed to be going. Jocelyn and the children hadn't moved. Scared of his reception, he crossed the drive and walked up to them, stopping just short of them. "Hi."

Suddenly he had three warm bodies slammed into him.

"I was so worried about you," Jocelyn said.

"The man on TV said you're a hero, daddy," Britney said.

That made him feel guilty. He gently pushed Jocelyn away so he could crouch down. He dropped his bag of clothes and laid a hand on each of her shoulders. "Heroes don't terrify their own families, Britney. I'm sorry I scared you back on the bus." He turned to Bailey, who hadn't said a word yet. "And I'm sorry I scared you, too." He felt in his coverall pocket for the pamphlet and held it up for Jocelyn. "I'm going to call her tomorrow."

Jocelyn looked at the pamphlet and tears started to well in her eyes. "Let's go inside."

The House on Gray's Run

Dina Frost sat with the rest of the household watching the latest news on TV. They'd just announced the identity of the two men killed in a shootout with police. Marcus Acton, Bailey Acton's dad, had once again been proclaimed a hero. She sighed. Bailey was going to be unbearable at school on Monday. Still, it had been good to hear that Bruno's brothers would never hurt him again. She glanced over to see how he'd taken the news.