Leaving empty handed

Carson keeps his balance on the roof, but rolls as he hears Misty’s warning, missing yet another bullet. “Get the stupid gun!” he yells.

Vance is caught off guard by Misty’s punch, but grips his gun tightly, beginning to fight with her.

Drew struggles to keep control of the car, nearing the edge of town, though having slowed considerably.

As Carson reaches for the door handle, he sees a better target. Drew has a hand gun tucked in his jeans at his side. Hanging down from the roof rack, Carson grips whatever he can with his feet and one hand, while leaning down as far as he dares. Fighting off Drew’s lame attempts at hits, he reaches quickly through the broken window, snatching the gun.

Drew grabs for it, but it’s too late. “Carson, you fool!”

Vance throws a backhanded slap to Misty’s face, continuing to fight for his own gun. He makes an attempt to move, but Drew swerves and knocks him off balance, sending him back into the door, letting go of his gun.

Carson rights himself on top of the car, kneeling on the roof as he checks the handgun for ammunition. It’s fully loaded.

Sliding down onto the hood of the car, Carson keeps one hand up on the roof rack, while the other points the gun at Drew’s head through the windshield. “Stop the car!” he orders sternly, his eyes an icy stare. “Or I blow your head off!”

Drew hesitates, but has no choice. Finally, he slows the car to a stop.

Carson slides off the car, ignoring the fact that his hand is bleeding all over the places from taking out the window. Keeping Drew in his sights, he continues to bark orders. “Misty, get out of the car, now.”

He glares at Drew. “All you weapons. Throw them out.”

“You’ve got to be..”

“Now!” Carson steps closer, shoving the handgun’s barrel into Drew’s temple. “Don’t make me blow your brains out,” he hisses.

Drew relents, and leans over to the glovebox to retrieve another gun, tossing it out the window.

“And under the seat,” Carson reminds.

Drew rolls his eyes, and pulls out a sawed-off shotgun from under the passenger seat, also letting it drop to the ground outside the car.

Once the car is empty of weapons, Carson steps back and gestures down the road. “Now you get…and if you so much as think about turning around, you’ll get a bullet through that back window, straight into you head. Do I make myself clear?” Receiving no answer, he raises his voice. “Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes, alright?!”

“Good.” Carson slowly backs away. “Now move.”

Drew grits his teeth, grumbling to himself as he puts the car in gear and pulls back out onto the road, leaving Carson and his attempted kidnappee behind.