I moved back from him. Blood was already pumping from his arm, his shoulder. I was shocked by how the blood surged unstoppably out of him. I hadn’t expected that. I wanted none of it on me. It was appalling! I had to finish him off. I fired a third shot! I was desperate, frightened, certain someone would come rushing up the stairs to investigate. I missed him again, but he was on the floor. It was difficult to hit a low, moving target. Now he had changed direction and was crawling towards me. I wanted him nowhere near me. I had to avoid getting his blood on me at all costs.

He was yelling something at me, but his voice was distorted by pain and on the speakers the vocalist was chanting the words of the song. I was shocked by the ferocity and anguish of Hari’s expression. With his good arm he tried to grab my ankle, but I leapt out of the way just in time.

I saw the baseball bat – it was within reach. Hari saw me looking, saw me stretching my hand towards it, and with a tremendous twist of his body he rolled over to it. I grabbed it, then swung it at him like a club, catching him a glancing blow on the side of the head. He howled in pain, but managed to raise himself into a crouching position. I knew with an extra surge of terror that if he was able to take hold of me, if only with one hand, he would certainly go on to kill me. I swung the bat again at his head – it hit him hard but it did not slow him. Then a third blow. This time I brought the bat down from above on the front of his head, using all my strength.

I felt something breaking. I thought it was the bat splintering, but then I saw the thick, dark blood erupting horribly from the top of his head, just above his face. Hari fell back again, and was still. Then he rolled in an agonized spasm, turning on one side. I tossed aside the bat. which rolled across the floor.

I fired a fourth bullet into Hari’s chest, aiming at his heart, but leapt back and away as if propelled by the recoil.

He did not react to the shot. He was unconscious or already dead.

Everything changed.

Horror and fear filled me. Now he was still. I was appalled by what had happened, what I had had to do, how difficult it was to kill a man. The blood was spreading in a thick pool around Hari’s head and shoulders. I had no idea.

My instinct was to flee, throw aside the gun, rush down the stairs, push through the crowd in the bar, escape to the street.