Hazel was still hyperventilating. She felt light headed, but things felt like they were slowing down.

The Tartok wasn't in a rush. It could leave quickly, dragging Haley with it. But it wasn't. For some reason.

She bent down and picked up Amos' gun. This one was loaded. She hoped all she had to do was pull the trigger.

For a second, Hazel's arm started to come up to drive the Tartok away with the eagle. That would only have it escape through the window, though, most likely dragging Haley with it. Her hand came back down.

The eagle was wrapped around the knuckles of her left hand. The gun was in her right. The crossbow, shotgun, and quiver of bolts were hanging from her shoulders against her back, making her feel awkward and unwieldy, like running with a full backpack on.

She raised the gun and fired, taking only a second to aim at the largest part of the Tartok she could see- its chest. If she missed and shot Haley, hopefully it would be fatal. Being killed by a gunshot was better than being eaten alive.