𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐍
The moment the first cop barreled past me, I stuck my foot out. He tripped, falling with a loud curse, and I heard his gun sliding across the icy roof.
The shooter was down and disarmed.
Before his partner had a chance to react, I jumped out in front of him, my right hand balled into a fist. He automatically ducked to the left as I swung it at him, but I used the momentum of his movement to punch upward with my left hand.
My left fist slammed into his chin, and he stumbled back, grunting. Without pausing, I dived for the gun but then I saw the other policeman doing the same.
We collided, rolling, and for a second, my fingers brush against the weapon.
Yes! I grabbed it, and as the cop attempted to pin me down, I pulled the trigger.
