Wanting something quick and sturdy, you grab the cast-iron fireplace poker from its place near the hearth. Three feet of cool black iron does much to calm you as you move from room to room, locking windows and drawing blinds. The doors dead-bolted, you move upstairs and try to remember everything you might have learned from the Boy Scouts about being prepared.
As you check the upstairs windows, you pick up a flashlight and decide that your school backpack might be a better home for items other than books. You are peering out of the window in your parents' bedroom when you make this decision. It quickly leaves your mind as you see a person stumble in the street outside, then three others jump on that person. A scream tears through the night from the fallen man, then stops suddenly.
Terrified, you look around your parents' room and stare at the night stand. You know your father keeps a pistol there, as well as a hunting rifle and shotgun in his closet. You've gone shooting with him before, so you know how to handle the weapons, but he will have your ass if he finds out you've been messing with his things while he is out.
Then again, you think about those people attacking that man, and also about that terrible scream that you can never unhear.
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