"It's nothing personal, Inspector. Just protecting my family." Vic raised his arm, the gun aimed steadily toward his son's heart. At this range, there would be no lucky escapes. Sam closed his eyes tightly, determined that the last thing he saw would not be the expression on his dad's face as he pulled the trigger on him.

Then there was a crashing of undergrowth and the sound of twigs cracking under running feet, and Sam felt the rush of air as Vic turned and ran. His shoulders had fallen in relief when he heard the gunshot. For a moment, Sam thought the Guv must have caught up with his dad after all, but then a sudden warmth about his midriff stopped him in his tracks. Looking down, Sam watched in detached fascination as a rose of crimson blood erupted across his shirt, consuming the print in a flower of gaudy red. Then the pain hit.

Sam's knees gave way beneath him, hitting the ground with a jar that shook him out of his trance. His hands flew to his side, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood as it trickled through his fingers and onto the grass beneath. The pain made it hard to think, hard to breathe even, oxygen half-filling his lung with every gulping attempt to swallow the sobs of hysterical confusion gathering in his throat. Sam pitched forward, his entire body weight falling onto the puncture wound in a burst of white-hot agony as the world went black.