For a millisecond he looked to be lost as the tiny metal breezed across his face, bruising the thick of his chin, the highest point. The bullet sends his face facing backyard. A brush that sprayed blood off his face.

He missed the target! thank goodness! Jim, who never had so near death experience, immediately in a twinkle, threw himself across the counter as the killer continue his spray after him.

He never thought they could find him, he least expected their trail of him to come this far south. 'Melinda?' He peered out of the corner of the pub table while on the floor of the bartender spot. Her beautiful face in a maroon pool, gushing out of her throat. 'Oh no! Jim screamed under his breathe'. Now he knows who's blood designed is cinched suit in white shirt and black tie....