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She had hit, she heard it. But she was already rushing Sam. That's who it was, they'd met before. Even without the height of her kill count he would see her as a threat. And he had his gun. She could grab it. Take it away, get rid of her weakness. Make up for her injuries.

All she needed was that instrument of death. She sent her right elbow swinging at Sam's side as her left hand tried to steal the gun.

Hopefully the girl, wait, Renee, wouldn't take the time to shoot her in the back. No, she wouldn't do that. She could shoot Sam. Good people wouldn't shoot if they could hit people other than the intended victim. Rebecca had shot the wrong person once, Samantha. Still, one more down, and she had finished Brian in the end.

It was only a little more guilt added to the heaping pile, so what did it matter?
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Swan Song · The Streets
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