“Right,” said Derek. He pulled out his iPhone and tried to turn it on. “Crap.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The battery is dead.” He ran out of the shed carrying his phone and shortly returned with a cord.

“Why didn’t you charge it earlier,” asked Bridget.

“There is no electricity in the farm house, remember?” He turned on the light and plugged the phone into a power strip on the table, then plugged in the power strip. A humming sound came from a piece of equipment on the table, but he ignored it and started his iPhone instead. Soon the sound of mink filled the shed. He then turned out the light.

Waiting took forever. Bridget checked the time on her cell phone ten or fifteen times. It was already 3:37 am and she was so tired. She just wanted to go to bed. The stupid mink noises kept her awake, but she didn’t really care about that. She just wanted the terrorist to come on ahead so she could kill him and get some sleep.

She caught herself nodding off, but then she heard a loud noise and almost wet her pants. She didn’t, but she had to pee urgently now. The door to the shed opened and a dark silhouette of a man at the doorway. She pulled her revolver and waited. Derek had told her they would wait until he got halfway into the shed before he would turn on the lights as a signal.

The man came closer. Her crotch felt numb and really warm. She was wetting the diaper. She couldn’t move until she emptied her bladder. Fortunately she was done before the man reached the halfway point.

Derek turned on the light and there was Owl standing fifteen feet away. She leveled the gun on him. “Don’t move a muscle,” she said.

“Just shoot him,” said Derek.

“I want him to know who I am,” said Bridget.

“You’re my niece’s roommate,” he said. “What are you doing here? Is this some kind of set up?” He started forward.

“I said, ‘don’t move!’” she said. She cocked the gun for emphasis. “I know who you are. You are a murderer. You killed two hundred forty children when you hijacked a tanker truck and drove it into a school.”

“That killer was a woman,” said Owl. “They executed her.”

“I was there in the cab with you when you drove that truck into a school. I know your tattoo, I know your voice, and I know your ideology. I still don’t know why you crashed my truck into a school, but I don’t care why. I know you are evil and I will kill you.”

“You couldn’t have been more than six at the time,” he said. “I know there were no children in the cab of that truck.”

“I’m Bridget Addison,” she said. “I am just younger now. When they put me to death, somehow I jumped into a different younger body, but I still remember what you did. I dreamed about it every night for twelve years, so I remember it like yesterday. I swore to kill you.” She pointed the gun and aimed it at the terrorist chest. She was going to shoot him, but she froze.

“Shoot him already, Angela,” said Derek.

It was too late really. She saw him coming and couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger. She wanted too kill the man who killed two hundred forty children so easily. She only had a few seconds anyway before he charged at her.

Owl rushed forward and grabbed her wrist. He twisted the gun out of her hand and spun her around so he could stand behind her. She tried to cough, tried to breathe even, but he held his strong arm across her throat and squeezed. She felt her bowels give way and hoped that she could at least get changed before the terrorist killed her. She really didn’t want to be found with dirty diapers.

Derek picked up a piece of wood from the floor and advanced. “Let her go!”

“Don’t move, or your girlfriend’s brains will be spread across this shed.”

Derek dropped the stick and backed off. “Just don’t hurt her.”