Reach

Meeting the flames of hatred focused on him like a blowtorch with his
ever-frosty demeanor, D asked, “Ready to make your move?”
“You first.”

Each standing ten feet away, the two deputies braced their shotguns.
They’d taken up positions they calculated to be well beyond the reach of
D’s longsword. No matter what move he might try to make, their shotguns
should prove faster than his sword. Their guns already had the first shell in
the chamber. The tension was rising by the second.

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