The Shofar of Abel
Eran A BaumannThe Shofar of Abel
πππ The screaming continued. It barraged his ears, the loudest, most horrifying noise he could ever remember hearing. A shower of electrical sparks rained down on him from the garage door opener, but the door stubbornly remained wide open. Then a break in the bullets, the weapons fire, the explosions of drywall dust. Followed by a new burst of shots, but through suppressors, from farther out in the street.