Chapter 6 (Due to limited space, this excerpt was sectionalized)
A black sport utility vehicle passed the restaurant at that moment at a slow crawl. I thought this
was unusual because the road outside the restaurant had a speed limit of forty-miles per hour and
the SUV was only moving at fifteen miles per hour at best. At least one person, wearing a black
long-sleeved shirt, black gloves, and a black mask had his left arm outside the driver's window with
something shiny in his hand. My mind quickly computed that the shiny object was a handgun and
it was pointing directly at Caldwell and I! Instinctively, I jumped at Caldwell, pulling him down to
the sidewalk behind some parked cars just as a bullet whizzed past out heads and slammed into a
wooden window frame of the restaurant.
I was truly thankful that I had decided to bring my Glock pistol with me. Usually I would leave it at
home because I detested the red tape that a private investigator had to go through when flying on an
airplane. Especially after my room had been ransacked in Georgia and I had found the threatening
note that was left behind, I thought it would be safer if I carried the handgun and endured the legal
hassle at the airports.
Once I was certain that Caldwell was not injured by the bullet or my tackling him to the ground, I
slowly rose to a squatting shooting position with my trusty Glock in hand. I quickly looked behind
into the restaurant to see if anyone had been hit by the stray bullet. A majority of the occupants
were hiding beneath their tables, while the rest had panicked and were attempting to run over a
waiter, who had positioned himself at the exit door to prevent anyone from running out of the
restaurant and into danger.
I looked at Caldwell and saw that he was in a fetal position on the ground. "Keep down and stay
here."
Caldwell looked visibly shaken. "Um...I'm not going anywhere."
I turned to search for the shooter, not knowing what I would find.
was unusual because the road outside the restaurant had a speed limit of forty-miles per hour and
the SUV was only moving at fifteen miles per hour at best. At least one person, wearing a black
long-sleeved shirt, black gloves, and a black mask had his left arm outside the driver's window with
something shiny in his hand. My mind quickly computed that the shiny object was a handgun and
it was pointing directly at Caldwell and I! Instinctively, I jumped at Caldwell, pulling him down to
the sidewalk behind some parked cars just as a bullet whizzed past out heads and slammed into a
wooden window frame of the restaurant.
I was truly thankful that I had decided to bring my Glock pistol with me. Usually I would leave it at
home because I detested the red tape that a private investigator had to go through when flying on an
airplane. Especially after my room had been ransacked in Georgia and I had found the threatening
note that was left behind, I thought it would be safer if I carried the handgun and endured the legal
hassle at the airports.
Once I was certain that Caldwell was not injured by the bullet or my tackling him to the ground, I
slowly rose to a squatting shooting position with my trusty Glock in hand. I quickly looked behind
into the restaurant to see if anyone had been hit by the stray bullet. A majority of the occupants
were hiding beneath their tables, while the rest had panicked and were attempting to run over a
waiter, who had positioned himself at the exit door to prevent anyone from running out of the
restaurant and into danger.
I looked at Caldwell and saw that he was in a fetal position on the ground. "Keep down and stay
here."
Caldwell looked visibly shaken. "Um...I'm not going anywhere."
I turned to search for the shooter, not knowing what I would find.
Excerpt from Guardian of Light
| Steven Hunt Books |
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