Run for it

Panicked by the look in his face you push him away, your **** strength enough for the moment. Fumbling behind you, you scrabble at the door handle, opening it, your weight against the door spilling you out into the mud. You kick the door shut in his face and hear a cry of pain. Hopefully you slammed the door on the fucker's finger you hope, scrambling to your feet in the mud, already drenched by the torrential rain.

You look around frantically, aware you have no time to think. There are only two choices for you to run to hide. The house or the barn.