Vox Mentis

Ooo, I like the debate! I'm sensing a general feeling of "get Tom out." So I'm going to go with that, but with the caveat that Whim mentioned:

Fine, but he's not getting the gun back.

You grab the shotgun again, and with your free hand reach down and grasp Tom's wrist. By the time you get Tom out of the cabin, the transport is close. You jump into deep, shadowed snow. You begin to forge forward. You make it out of the shade of the pickup and your shadow stretches before you, long and thin and sharpening at the edges, coalescing into something vulnerable. The ground shakes. There's a shriek of metal and you think, It's through the railing; it's thirty feet away, and you don't need to turn and verify this but you do anyway. The transport bounces toward the pickup and swats it aside. The idea of running suddenly seems very stupid to you, because the transport is as big as a mountain. It's going to run you down no matter what you do.

Tom grabs you by the ear. The transport hits deep snow and throws it up in a wave. You hadn't factored in the snow: That will slow it. You realize you can survive, or could have, if you'd thought of this about ten seconds ago. The truck plows toward you, fountaining snow. It slows and stops. Its tires spin. You reach out and touch its bull bar.

Tom holds an open hand out to you. "My gun. Now."