I jerked back, but the rock grazed my cheek, slicing through skin. Hot blood ran down my face.
"Mitch!" Charlie cried.
"Stay back!" I yelled at her.
Fury flared white-hot through my chest. I drove my elbow down into his wrist with everything I had left.
Doug howled. As the rock tumbled from his grip, I threw myself on top of him, jamming my forearm across his throat. I put my full weight behind it, leaning in until I felt his windpipe flatten beneath the pressure.
"Stop this," I growled into his face. "Stop it!"
Doug's eyes went wide, then bulged. His hands clawed at my arm, fingernails scraping skin, trying to pry me off. His face flushed red. Then darker. Purple.
His legs thrashed beneath me. Weakening.
"Mitch! Don't!" Charlie's voice broke through the red haze clouding my vision.
I could've ended it right there. Just pressed a little harder. Held on for another thirty seconds. Watched the light fade from his eyes.
One less problem.
One less threat.
I glanced at her. She stood a few feet away, face drained of color, hands shaking at her sides. Tears streaked her cheeks.
"Don't kill him," she whispered. Her voice cracked. "Please. You're not like him."
Wasn't I?
I'd killed before. In Kandahar. In the Hindu Kush. In a dozen other places with names I'd tried to forget. Men who’d tried to kill me. Men who’d deserved it.
But those had been split-second decisions. Life or death. Kill or be killed. War.
This was different.
This was a choice.
I eased the pressure on Doug's throat. Just enough to let air through.
Doug sucked in a ragged, wheezing gasp. His whole body shuddered with it.
I grabbed his shirt collar, yanking him close. "You're done. You hear me? It's?—"
Doug's knee drove up into my groin.
White-hot agony detonated through my body. The world went white. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I rolled away, curling into myself, fighting the urge to vomit.
Doug scrambled to his feet, coughing and choking. Blood streamed from his shattered nose and the gash near his temple, painting half his face red. His eyes were wild, feral and unhinged. The rifle dangled from the strap still looped over his shoulder, swaying as he moved.
"You bastard!" he rasped, his voice ruined. He lunged at me.
I was still doubled over, sucking in shallow breaths, my vision tunneling.
Doug's shoulder drove into my chest like a battering ram. The impact lifted me off my feet. I flew backward, heels dragging through loose gravel at the cliff edge.
Doug's eyes flew wide. He tried to plant his feet, arms windmilling desperately.
But momentum didn't care.