Hansel narrowed his eyes as Chris swung his weapon back towards him, apparently satisfied with whoever-it-was' response to his rampant gun-waving. He was standing there, the gun at his feet, with two separate people pointing guns at him and having disarmed a second person, and all he could think was it had been seven days
It had taken seven days to do this to them, to the point of not listening to reason.
There was no place for him here. Not among people who still squabbled and pecked in the sand. And as he watched Chris, the way he switched targets, shifted threats, he didn't believe that he was going to shoot him.
So he leaned forwards, reached towards the FAMAS with his right hand, two fingers extended. He snagged the strap, was about to lift it -
The sand exploded at his feet as he leapt backwards, falling to a knee on the beach as Maddie's gun arm jerked backwards. His right hand scrabbled for purchase, now - grasping the strap and hauling it with him as he regained his feet, taking all of his concentration to not snap the gun to his shoulder and fire back. Instead, he stood still, his gaze tracking from Maddie's weapon to Chris'.
"Yuh-hoo st-till think I'm the threat here, Jack?" he asked, gesturing to his wounded arm, the gun slung over his shoulder and pointed to the ground, the disturbed sand at his feet.
"Fuh-huck you both. You can shoot me in the back."
He turned, pulse racing, and strode away from the group - his gait a little too fast to be cool, legs a little to weak to be completely steady. His eyes turned towards the sunset - the explosion of colour, disappearing behind the ocean waves, casting a radiant display across the water, the clouds, the sky. He walked, waited for the sound of the gunshot, waited for this to be his last image before death.
Decent way to go.
When he got fifty feet, he considered it a successful called bluff.
When he got a hundred, he started to breathe again.
((Hansel Williams, Tomorrow is the most important thing in life.