Fuel (Best Laid Plans Book 1) by Nathan Jones Read Free Book Online

of opportunity had passed.
    Trev felt himself shaking, struggling to keep his aim steady even as he tried not to show how hard his arms were trembling from tension and, he'd readily admit, fear. This was the first time he'd ever had a gun pointed at him for any reason, even by accident, and no matter what he might assume about the person behind the trigger he had no way of knowing whether the intent to kill was there.
    When he spoke he realized his voice was also shaking, so he tried to pass it off as anger. “So much for your idea of just dying when disaster strikes, huh?”
    Nelson smiled, almost sheepishly. “It's a lot easier to say stuff like that when it doesn't matter. Now that the disaster you predicted is actually here I kinda want to live.”
    “And the Glock? Doesn't seem like something you'd get ahead of time when you were just planning on rolling over and giving up on life.” Trev was having a harder and harder time keeping his voice casual. He couldn't believe he was standing in the parking lot of his dorm in a standoff with a classmate.
    The student's answer was a quick shrug. “My uncle's a gun nut. He gave it to me for my birthday. Took me out shooting with it a couple times so I know what I'm doing.”
    “I doubt it. How about you just drop it and walk away?”
    “Why don't you instead?” Nelson's surprise was passing, and by his growing confidence he had seen Trev's show of nerves. With a casual flick of his gun he pointed at the car. “While you're at it, why don't you toss me your keys too?”
    The gun flick was a mistake. Even though the Glock was once again pointed at him Trev had got the information he needed. He calmly stepped back far enough to shut his car door then lunged forward, closing the distance between them in moments. The sandy-haired man was just starting to gape in shock as Trev grabbed the 9mm by the barrel, shoving it aside. Even as he did that he kicked up at Nelson's gut with all his strength. His study mate yanked frantically on the gun for half a second, then Trev's foot connected and he released it and folded over double with a strangled noise before dropping to the ground.
    Keeping his 1911 pointed at the man one-handed the entire time, Trev awkwardly rotated Nelson's gun in his other hand so he could shove it muzzle-first into his pocket as he backed away. As he did he noted how much gunpowder residue coated the barrel beneath his fingers: it had been shot plenty but not cleaned afterwards. Small surprise, since that wasn't the only sign of inexperience the idiot had shown.
    Before Nelson had finished rolling on the ground Trev had backed away a safe distance, gun once more in a two-handed grip. “Take off, Nelson, and be glad I'm not hauling you to the police. They have enough problems to deal with without worrying about some moron who doesn't even cock his gun before trying to rob someone.”
    The guy glared at him with equal parts pain, confusion, and anger. “How do you know that?”
    Trev tapped the 9mm in his pocket. “My first firearms instruction was from my uncle. His pistol of choice is also a Glock, and before we did anything else he ran us through safety rules for it. I got to see his weapon in all stages of readiness, enough to recognize that your finger on the trigger was way too far back so there's no way the weapon was cocked. And since the gun isn't cocked it's not very likely that you even had a round chambered.”
    Nelson managed to push to his feet, still hunched over slightly. “Can't blame me for trying, right? You made it sound like you had plenty. A perfect target.”
    Trev ignored that. “Walk away. If I see you again I'll shoot you.”
    His classmate held up his hands in defeat. “Can I at least have my gun back? You can keep the bullets, I just don't want to be defenseless.”
    He couldn't believe the balls on this guy. The sandy-haired student acted like he'd been caught cheating in a board game rather than trying to hold up an