On the floor at her feet Clint groaned and his hand moved towards his head. Lucy McGinley swung the barrel of the rifle up then forcefully back, hitting Clint's head with a resounding crack. He moaned, barely semi- conscious. The barrel returned to its place, pointing at the back of his head.
"Move again, I'll kill you," she said. Her voice was as cold and unrelenting as the night.
"Your bitch is dead," she continued, her face a picture of triumph. "Stay still, unless you care to join her in Hell."
Clint didn't move. His breathing shuddered back into unconsciousness.