I twisted the barrel hard, using his own momentum against him, and slammed my knee into his ribs. A bone cracked. Doug screamed. But fury, or desperation, or madness kept him fighting.
He swung the rifle like a club, the stock catching me across the jaw.
Stars exploded in my vision. I tasted copper.
"Mitch!" Charlie's shriek carved through the ringing in my ears.
I couldn't look at her. Couldn't afford the distraction.
Doug yanked the rifle back, trying to bring it around. I held on, my fingers locked around the barrel. We struggled for control, neither of us willing to let go. The rifle jerked between us as he tried to aim it at me.
I drove my forehead into his nose.
The crunch was satisfying. Blood sprayed.
Doug's eyes went wild as animal panic mixed with rage.
"Stop! Stop this!" Charlie yelled.
He threw his weight sideways, trying to break free. The rifle swung wildly between us.
We stumbled backward. My boots scrabbled for purchase on the uneven ground, and we crashed to the dirt in a tangle of limbs, the rifle trapped between our bodies.
Doug clawed at my face, my throat, anything he could reach.
I rolled toward him, trying to pin him down. But he fought like a cornered rat, all teeth and desperation and zero technique.
He punched my temple. Pain exploded through my skull. "Son of a bitch!"
"Doug. Stop!" Charlie yelled.
Through the haze of pain, I saw her come at Doug from his blind side. Her boot slammed square into his ribs. Not a weak kick either. She put her whole body into it.
"You bitch!" Doug wheezed, his face twisting with rage. "You're dead! You hear me? Both of you are?—"
"Charlie, no!" I grabbed Doug's shirt to keep him from lunging at her. "Get the hell back!"
She froze, her face pale but defiant. Her fists stayed clenched at her sides, knuckles white. She was terrified, but ready to defend me again if she had to.
Brave. Beautiful. Incredible.
Doug twisted in my grip. "I'm gonna kill you!" He lunged toward her.
I grabbed his ankle and yanked hard.
Doug went down, his head slamming into a rock with a sickening crack. A gash split open above his eyebrow, blood streaming down into his left eye. He twisted, kicking at my face.
I caught his boot with both hands, barely stopping it inches from my nose. My arms shook with the effort.
We were both running on fumes. Exhaustion, dehydration, hunger, it was all catching up. Every movement was like pushing through wet concrete. My muscles screamed. My lungs burned.
But he'd gone too far to stop now. And I couldn't.
If I did, he'd kill Charlie.
Doug's hand scrabbled across the ground and closed around a rock. Baseball-sized, with jagged edges.
He swung it at my head in a wild arc.