Josiah stood outside the convenience store, sucking on a Tootsie Pop while his trenchant flapped in the breeze. A desperate looking man headed toward the establishment door, eyes darting. Josiah deliberately kept his face forward and his eyes looking in a different direction. He watched the man from his peripheral vision. The crazed man entered the store. Josiah waited a few heartbeats and followed.

The store was empty, and the desperate man had wasted no time pulling a gun on the clerk. Josiah caused the robber to turn toward the door. “Don’t move, pal.”
“Hey, tough guy, don’t point that thing at me unless you intend to use it.” Josiah flicked his right wrist and a knife appeared. The robber fired the gun.

Josiah threw the knife with his right hand, while bringing his left arm in front of his chest where the gunman had been pointing. It stung like mad, but the metal plate in Josiah’s forearm deflected the gunman’s bullet. On the other hand, Josiah’s throwing knife had knocked the gun out of the man’s hand before he could get off a second shot. The robber gaped at Josiah, and then he looked for the gun. The weapon had fallen behind the counter.

The robber looked at the gun and looked at the clerk. The clerk was scared, not moving. The robber looked back toward Josiah, but he was gone.

Josiah shoved a display of two liter bottles over upon the robber. The man fell, hitting his head on the counter. Josiah plucked his throwing knife out from under the bottles. “Sorry about the soda. Maybe you can return it for credit.” Sirens began a couple of blocks away. “He’ll be out until the police you called get here. I wouldn’t touch that gun if I was you.” Josiah walked to the back of the store and out the delivery exit.

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