open with nowhere to retreat.”
“You sure they’re here to hurt us?”
“Jenny, listen to me,” Sean said. “If they were a welcoming wagon, they’d have come up the driveway. These guys are boxing us in. But they’re doing it all wrong. A couple go down, you can be sure the rest are gonna run.”
She glanced down at the rifle. “Okay.”
“Jenny, what have you killed before?”
Her cheeks colored and it seemed as though she had to force herself to maintain eye contact. “A deer. Once. Lots of target practice.”
“Excellent.” Sean lied. “Targets downrange. That’s all they are. Take a deep breath, steady yourself, pull the trigger. Then repeat until all the targets are on the ground.”
Jenny turned and a few seconds later Sean heard her pass the instructions on to Addison.
A moment later, Emma was behind Sean. “What’s going on?”
“Some bad men are here to hurt us.” No point lying to her. Once the gunshots erupted, she’d figure it out. “Go get Barbara and bring her into the bathroom. Both of you lay down in the tub. I mean it, all the way down. It’ll protect you.”
“What if she won’t go? Dad, she’s been out of it since we got here.”
Sean considered this. “In a few moments, I’m going to open fire. If she isn’t up when you hear the first shot, then go alone. We’ll protect her best we can.”
Then without a goodbye or I love you, Emma was gone. Sean hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.
He paused for thirty seconds, allowing everyone time to get where they needed to go, and to prepare themselves for the fight ahead. He’d explained it so simply to Jenny. Fact was, he knew nothing about these men. Odds were at least one had some military training. All it took was one. The former soldier could have passed on a few techniques. It looked like this wasn’t the first time they’d done this. As bullish as their tactics were, they’d work against unarmed and untrained people.
Rolling up the way they did, in plain sight, diesels rumbling, told Sean that they didn’t count on him being there.
He scanned the field and located one of the crawlers. Through the scope he saw a patch of blue. It moved into full view.
A hat.
Sean slowed his breath, and in turn his pulse. He counted three beats, exhaled, then fired. Crows evacuated the woods. Their squawks filled the air after the echoes of the shot faded.
In the field, next to the man Sean had just killed, another rose to his knees, swiveling at the waist with his rifle held to his shoulder.
Sean swung the barrel two inches, aimed for center mass and pulled the trigger. A crimson bloom erupted where the man’s heart used to sit intact. He fell to the side as two other men rose from the grass and began running toward the tree line.
Where’d the fourth come from?
In the time Sean sighted the first runner, two more shots were fired, and not from his weapon. He flinched in response. He ascertained they had come from within the house.
“Got him!” one of the women screamed.
Sean’s next shot missed its mark. The two men were halfway between the fallen bodies of their comrades, and the woods. He might only have one more shot before they slipped from view. It had to count. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and returned the rifle stock to his shoulder. He adjusted to the scope. Aimed at the broad back of one of the men. Pulled the trigger. The shot melted with several others that took place around the same time.
From elsewhere, the group returned fire.
Sean’s target dropped where he had stood. The other guy stumbled as he looked back while continuing to sprint for the woods. Sean started to line up his shot when the fascia board above him exploded into hundreds of splinters.
He looked left, toward the woods behind the house. Two men were snaking through the final wave of trees. Sean forgot about the remaining runner and instead turned and fired three rounds. He hadn’t counted on hitting one of the
“You sure they’re here to hurt us?”
“Jenny, listen to me,” Sean said. “If they were a welcoming wagon, they’d have come up the driveway. These guys are boxing us in. But they’re doing it all wrong. A couple go down, you can be sure the rest are gonna run.”
She glanced down at the rifle. “Okay.”
“Jenny, what have you killed before?”
Her cheeks colored and it seemed as though she had to force herself to maintain eye contact. “A deer. Once. Lots of target practice.”
“Excellent.” Sean lied. “Targets downrange. That’s all they are. Take a deep breath, steady yourself, pull the trigger. Then repeat until all the targets are on the ground.”
Jenny turned and a few seconds later Sean heard her pass the instructions on to Addison.
A moment later, Emma was behind Sean. “What’s going on?”
“Some bad men are here to hurt us.” No point lying to her. Once the gunshots erupted, she’d figure it out. “Go get Barbara and bring her into the bathroom. Both of you lay down in the tub. I mean it, all the way down. It’ll protect you.”
“What if she won’t go? Dad, she’s been out of it since we got here.”
Sean considered this. “In a few moments, I’m going to open fire. If she isn’t up when you hear the first shot, then go alone. We’ll protect her best we can.”
Then without a goodbye or I love you, Emma was gone. Sean hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.
He paused for thirty seconds, allowing everyone time to get where they needed to go, and to prepare themselves for the fight ahead. He’d explained it so simply to Jenny. Fact was, he knew nothing about these men. Odds were at least one had some military training. All it took was one. The former soldier could have passed on a few techniques. It looked like this wasn’t the first time they’d done this. As bullish as their tactics were, they’d work against unarmed and untrained people.
Rolling up the way they did, in plain sight, diesels rumbling, told Sean that they didn’t count on him being there.
He scanned the field and located one of the crawlers. Through the scope he saw a patch of blue. It moved into full view.
A hat.
Sean slowed his breath, and in turn his pulse. He counted three beats, exhaled, then fired. Crows evacuated the woods. Their squawks filled the air after the echoes of the shot faded.
In the field, next to the man Sean had just killed, another rose to his knees, swiveling at the waist with his rifle held to his shoulder.
Sean swung the barrel two inches, aimed for center mass and pulled the trigger. A crimson bloom erupted where the man’s heart used to sit intact. He fell to the side as two other men rose from the grass and began running toward the tree line.
Where’d the fourth come from?
In the time Sean sighted the first runner, two more shots were fired, and not from his weapon. He flinched in response. He ascertained they had come from within the house.
“Got him!” one of the women screamed.
Sean’s next shot missed its mark. The two men were halfway between the fallen bodies of their comrades, and the woods. He might only have one more shot before they slipped from view. It had to count. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and returned the rifle stock to his shoulder. He adjusted to the scope. Aimed at the broad back of one of the men. Pulled the trigger. The shot melted with several others that took place around the same time.
From elsewhere, the group returned fire.
Sean’s target dropped where he had stood. The other guy stumbled as he looked back while continuing to sprint for the woods. Sean started to line up his shot when the fascia board above him exploded into hundreds of splinters.
He looked left, toward the woods behind the house. Two men were snaking through the final wave of trees. Sean forgot about the remaining runner and instead turned and fired three rounds. He hadn’t counted on hitting one of the
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