Uncle, many people seem to think that they would do this and that in a situation like that. That they'd be heroes and die in a vain attempt to stop someone with a gun. That they are made of bulletproof materials or that they are special versions of flesh that can't be harmed.
Others, where I include myself, have seen face to face what a weapon can do, even if wielded by someone with no experience or poor training (in my case child soldiers some even younger than my 10 years), and we know, we know that bullets against flesh, flesh loses 100% of times. That cowering from a gun is not cowardice but prudence. We know that the smart thing is to do all you can to escape. Yes, it will burn forever in your perennial diminished self-image, but, you'll be alive to feel the burn. Survivor's guilt and PTSD are fucking REAL, dead heroes too.
The story, as you told it, made perfect sense for me. But, what do I know, I'm not an action hero with a fucking death wish. I am only someone that survived a brutal civil war sleeping under a bed with bullets peppering the walls of the room. That had to swerve between corpses to go to school, because fucking life doesn't stop.
Peace
P.S.: Maybe you all understand why I sign out with Peace now.