style. Then he pulled the trigger.
Nothing. The gun misfired. Click!
He pulled the trigger again, same
thing. Then again and again. Click!
Click! Click! Click! Four times he
pulled the trigger, and four times
the gun misfired. Bullets were
popping out of the ejection port,
falling out of the gun, falling down
on my mom and clattering to the
ground.
Abel stopped to see what was
wrong with the gun. My mother
jumped up in a panic. She shoved
him aside, ran for the car, jumped
into the driver’s seat.
Andrew ran behind and jumped