"I'm sorry, Caitlin." He sighted on her forehead, a clean, perfect, kill shot. He pulled the trigger.
He closed his eyes. Caitlin! His soul cried out in torment. A bullet pinged close to his position and he opened his eyes. He had to get out of there, he scrambled backwards. As he left his position he glanced back, catching a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Long brown hair, blowing in the breeze as she dove for cover.
In that brief glimpse he realised what he had done. He had saved her. His shot had gone wide. Confused, he ran. His thoughts churning at the implication of what he had done.