Free See Dick Run by Kassanna

mattress. Picking up handfuls of the bullets he pushed them into his front pockets.
    He ran to the front door and peered around the doorjamb. Heat licked at his back, forcing him to make a move. One arm was useless from the gunshot. He cocked the rifle on his hip and stepped onto the porch. A bullet ricocheted off the plank next to his foot and he hopped back. He lifted his weapon and fired in the direction the shot had come from. There was no time to get in a gun fight; the fire had spread to the next wall and had picked up speed. As much as he despised doing it, he had to use the third exit in the house.
    Kever raised his leg and kicked the bed out the way. Next to the trunk was a trap door. Wrapping his fingers around the knotted rope, he hefted the heavy panel up and stared down into the slow moving water. He knew jumping in to the murky water seeping blood wasn’t ideal, especially considering the animals that liked to rest on the bottom of the bed. Wet guns would do him no good. He tossed them on the bed and grabbed his crossbow and quiver. He shook the pillow case off the pillow and dropped the quiver in them, knotting the ends through a belt loop.
    Kever dropped to his knees and threw the trunk top open. He pulled out the first-aid kit and emptied the contents on the floor, searching for the bandages. Slapping some gauze on his wound, he awkwardly wrapped a bandage around it and hoped it held in the water. He shrugged on the spare shirt he kept in the chest, palmed the rolled money and, leaning back, stuffed it in his pocket. Fire claimed a third wall and the intensity of the heat seared his skin. He jerked on the old tennis shoes he kept under the bed and moved closer to the opening in the floor. It was cooler closer to the water. He looked around his small get-a-way. The camp stove was engulfed in flames. A ping of disappointment bounced through him. He’d built this house with his own hands. Anger quickly fed off his distress, he ground his teeth and picked up the crossbow. Someone would pay dearly for his loss. He inhaled a breath and dropped into the frigid water.
    With no way to see, he had to rely on his sense of direction and memory. He aimed for the direction he hoped the shore was in, moving as quickly as he could. His hand grazed some rocks and he latched on, sinking his fingers into the deep indentations and pulling himself up. He raised his head above the surface and exhaled. Kever checked his location. The house was now totally encompassed in flames which shot up into the morning sky and appeared to touch the sun. Black smoke billowed in huge plumes snaking into the sky in various directions. He lowered his head and followed the shore away from his camp. The blast created waves as a side of his home was blown out. Someone would come out and investigate and at the moment that was the least of his worries. First he had to find Moira.
     
    ***
     
    Boards gave way and working her leg, she continued to angle the sole of her foot at the worn wood. She could hear the creaks as the lumber of the shack gave way to the fire and briefly thought she heard Kever calling her name. Moira’s heart pounded in her chest and sweat trickled down her temple and between her breasts. Haze from the house was seeping into the crevices, filling the tiny area, and the two smells were creating a noxious odor. Fear slithered down her spine. She needed to find Kever.
    Moira pulled back her leg and kicked out, putting all her weight behind the blow. Wood splintered around her foot. She rushed to the space and put her nose to the gaping hole, inhaling the fresher air. Placing her palms on the other boards, she pushed out. The nails gave way and the planks fell, giving her an area large enough to squeeze through. Timber scraped her arms as she angled her body and sucked in a breath. Sharp pieces scratched her through her shirt, snagging at the cotton and digging into her back. Moira clamped her mouth shut, tears formed in the corner