HIS EYES SHOT open and his heart started thumping in his chest.

The one thing that Decker appreciated about Greenbury was the quiet at night. It was possible to hear anything out of the ordinary. Next to him, Rina was sleeping soundly. Gently, he shook her shoulder and when she aroused, he put his finger to her lips. Her eyes widened and she brought her hand to her mouth.

Decker whispered, “Get under the bed.”

Rina knew better than to question. Silently, she slipped out of bed and slid under the bed frame. Once she was taken care of, Decker crept to the walk-in closet and the gun safe. Within moments, he had his loaded Beretta ready for action. He dropped down and showed Rina the gun. She nodded.

Then the two of them waited. By now, they could both hear the rustling sounds of someone going through their stuff in the living room.

Decker had a decision to make. Should he confront the burglar or should he wait until it was over. With Rina in the house, the decision was made for him. If there was more than one bad guy, he’d be putting her at risk by leaving her alone. No sense doing that unless it was absolutely necessary.

If it were punks, they probably wouldn’t come into the bedroom. They’d swipe the electronics and Rina’s purse and call it a day.

Decker’s mind kept racing, tumbling thoughts and scenarios.

How did kids get into the house? He didn’t have an alarm, but Greenbury was safe: often neighbors didn’t even bother locking their doors. But even with that, he was a stickler. All the doors had deadbolts. All the windows were double paned and locked solid.

It had to be professionals.

The sounds grew louder—and closer.

Professionals.

Silently, Decker got up from the floor. With a few deft strokes, he made the bed, stuffing pillows under the duvet to make it look like people were still asleep. Then he crouched down next to Rina, his eyes just above the mattress and locked onto the doorway.

And then he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The doorknob slowly turned.

Crunch time.

He’d been there before. His heart rate suddenly slowed as his brain cleared with the single thought of survival. Within a second, all his life experiences were cataloged as he pulled out the needed index card to continue on in the world.

The door opened and a dark shadow came inside. It raised an arm straight out, the gun pointing toward the bed. Decker shouted, “Police! Freeze!”

In slow motion, Decker saw the flash of his own gun at the same time the shadow pivoted toward his direction. As soon as the bullet hit, the figure stumbled. But he managed to remain upright, gun in hand, and took off, grabbing his shoulder and dripping blood while he fled.