"Come on, goddammit!" Ranny yelled, grabbing Laura roughly by one arm, his carbine in the other. He ran down the hall to the front door, half-dragging Laura behind him, his grip on her arm so tight that she knew she'd have bruises from it. He pulled her roughly out onto the porch, the motion-sensor light bathing them and a wide semi-circle of the front yard in light much brighter than the moonlight shining everywhere else. Ranny pulled her around in front of him, holding the rifle vertically up her back, the tip of the barrel just below the back of her head.
"What's that stupid son-of-a-bitch's name?" he demanded.
"It's Monty," Laura replied through chattering teeth, more scared than she'd ever been in her life.
"Monty, you dumb bastard!" screamed Ranny. "Whatever you think you're doing, you'd better know that I've got your girl. If you call the cops there's going to be shooting, and she'll be dead, and it'll be your fault. We're leaving now, and don't even think of trying to do anything to stop us!" He was almost hysterical with rage, and he was yelling so loudly that Monty's neighbors, even a mile away, could have heard him through the quiet of the country air had they been outside. And Monty heard him, too.
When Monty had heard the commotion inside, he scrambled backwards out of the attic opening and dropped to the ground, not waiting to lower himself the full length of his arms. That was a mistake, because dropping quickly without preparation from that height resulted in a hard fall, and one ankle would have been badly twisted except for the sturdy shaft on his cowboy boot. But it was painful enough that he was limping as he started running towards the barn. He ran alongside the driveway, since the ground was softer there than on the hard roadway.
He was only halfway to the barn when the porch light went on and Ranny and Laura appeared outside the house. He had just reached the shade of the massive old oak tree, and quickly ducked around the far side of it. The light from the house didn't reach this far, and the thick foliage of the old oak totally blocked out the moonlight. Monty was inside a little well of darkness, and by staying on the side of the trunk away from the house, he knew Ranny couldn't see him.
But he also knew that the moonlight was still so bright that he couldn't run the rest of the way to the barn without being seen. He also knew that the automatic weapon Ranny had would mow him down if he tried: accurate shooting wasn't necessary when 30 rounds could be sprayed in his direction. Impotently, he had to stay silent and listen to Ranny's rant.