Less than two inches movement from this distance. One second.Concentrating - there was no room for error - my heart rate slowed. Hands stilled. Body r...laxed. Rifle butt snug to my shoulder, I aimed at the driver, stopped breathing, and gently squeezed the trigger.The shot was loud, echoing across the cemetery, the rifle butt shoving back at me. The Suburban’s windscreen cracked like a spider web around a hole. Without breathing, before the second man could react, in under a second, a second. Tami's voice."Not sure. What year is it?" What year?" Are you my wife?" Tony, we're fourteen." There are states where that is legal." He's okay," said another voice. I decided that it was my maternal unit, code-named Mom.I decided to try opening my eyes again.I opened them just a little, and they still burned. I closed them and blinked hard, trying to liquefy them. No, not liquify; moisten. Why was it so hard to think?I opened my eyes again. They still stinged. Stanged. Stang. Stung. They. More

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