Ranger

I had a steel poker next to the stove.

I had the propane lantern, which was a risk, but also a potential weapon.

Dale was sitting on his bunk with his hands on his knees.

His pack was at the foot of his bunk.

Whatever weapon he had, whether it was a knife or a small firearm or something else, was most likely in that pack or on his person.

His boots were off, his jacket was hanging from a peg on the wall next to his bunk.

I had one advantage.

He didn't know that I knew.

I needed to keep that advantage for as long as I could, and then I needed to use it once, with full commitment, in a way that did not give him a chance to reach his pack.

I thought about how to do that.

I thought about it for maybe 20 minutes while I pretended to drift.

What I decided was this.

I would tell him I needed to go outside.

There was a small lean-to attached to the east wall of the shelter, accessed by a secondary door where we kept the composting toilet.

It was a legitimate reason to get up.

On my way to the toilet door, I would pass within three feet of his bunk.

I would have my flashlight in my left hand and the stove poker in my right.

And as I passed his bunk, I would swing the poker downward across his collarbone and shoulder with everything I had.

It was not a killing strike.

It was a disabling strike.