part 4

Smiths was starting to panic. He clasped the gun tight and tried to clam himself. Every time Smith would almost get himself under control a movement would grab his attention. Whether it was someones lips, or a nervous twich, it scaried him a little. Smith took a deep breath and thought of girl he knew long ago. Smith pictured her the best he could from his feeble memory. She was standing on a railing over looking the city, wearing a light blue dress. The wind blowing in from the harbor tossed her hair and played with her dress. She was the most beautiful women Smith had ever seen, and he knew that his memory didn't do her beauty justice. She turned and smiled at him.

A hand grabbed smith by the back of the coat and started to pull him up. Acting quickly smith shoved the gun back into his pocket. Smith was pulled up and stood face to face with the unknown gun man. Smith looked quickly around and saw that the others where still there, scarred but there. The man said something then moved smith towards the door. Smith stopped at the kitchen door, afraid to know what he was going to find on the other side. A boot hit smith in the back and he fell into the kitchen face down.

Smith started to pick himself up and saw the old man lying face down to his left. Was the old man really dead, did the unknow gun man shoot the old guy? Smith got up but kept his eyes fix on the man that looked like himself. The gun man caught smiths attention by catching his jaw with a fist. Smith looked at the gun man and really saw him for the first time. He looked to be in his mid forties. He had the appearance of a trucker smith thought, unshaven and a little scrubby. The man seem a little jumpy and maybe even a little frightened. The man motioned for smith to turn around. Smith did so and noticed as he turned that he could see out the window where the others could only see his head. Panic raised in smith suddenly and his vision jumped to the old man on the ground. That was going to be him, no that was him. Smith was beholding his future. Smith noticed that the old man was breathing however, and there was no blood.

Smith pulled the gun from his pocket and turned to face the gun wielding trucker. The trucker had the pistol raised to give a clean blow to the back of smiths head. Smith took the initiative and placed his gun right inbetween the truckers eyes. The truckers face was filled with shock and smith thought he could see him mouth some kind of profanity. Smiths confidence rushed in stronger than it had ever been in his life. He did it, he had stopped this man. What was to be done with him now? Smith told the trucker to drop his gun and walk outside. The man seemed to understand and did so. Smith followed closely kicking the gun along with him. The others watched dumb fondly as smith walked back to them with his prisoner. Smith told them to tie the trucker up some how. The cook took off a belt he was wearing under his apron and tightened it around the trucks hands and then to the bottom of a table. Smith stood above the trucker and told the others to call the police or something.

After that confusion ensued as people ran for the door, phone, and even the back where the old man laid. Smith didn't focus on anything but the trucker. He stared at him wondering what he should do. Smith almost wanted to let him go, the man was scared. What if it was smith in this situation. wouldn't he want to be let go. This man didn't kill smith, had only tried to knock him out. The trucker didn't seem to be dangerous, but what if smith did let him go. It would not fix the mans problems. The man would still be in the same situation that lead him to do this, plus smith couldn't really talk with him. Smith did have his gun, that would at least stop him form doing this same thing, at least right away. Smith had decide to let him go. He bent over when a familiar metallic cold touched the back of his neck.