Read Online Get Out of Denver (Denver Burning Book 1) by Algor X. Dennison - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Algor X. Dennison
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again.”
The thug pulled the girl around in front of him. “This is my girlfriend, dude. Well, she used to be. And now she gonna be again! You got no right--”
McLean fired a warning shot at the one in the yard, and he sprinted away into the dark. The one on the porch swore and let go as the girl twisted free of him and scrambled away into the bushes. McLean shined his light right in the guy’s face, forcing him to put up a hand against the glare.
“If you have a gun behind your back, you’d best drop it. Then step away off that porch real slow, and follow your buddy there. Then don’t ever come back, or you won’t get a warning shot. I’ll just kill you.”
The thug slowly came down from the porch and edged around the side of the house toward his confederate’s escape route. McLean saw his arms coming gradually down toward his waist, and rushed forward with a yell, aiming the shotgun at the guy’s head. This broke his nerve, and the thug turned and ran. As he did so, a revolver jostled free of his waistband and fell in the grass.
McLean walked over and kicked it toward the porch, where the girl was emerging from the bushes. “You might want to hang on to this, in case that punk ever comes back,” he told her. “If he does, give it to him. Right in the chest.”
The girl grabbed the gun and ran inside the house, shutting the door.
McLean checked to make sure all was clear on the street, and got the others moving again. “Nice neighborhood you’ve got here,” he told David with a hard glare. “We stick together, with me in the lead! Nobody go ahead of me.”
Only two more blocks up they arrived at David’s home. It was the eastern half of a small duplex, with no back yard and nothing but a solitary crab apple tree in front. There were no cars in any of the driveways or on the street. The end of the block opened up into a parking lot for some businesses, beyond which lay the freeway and a commercial district.
David fumbled at the door in the dark, got it open, and led the way inside. Carrie turned on a flashlight and then lit a candle she’d brought, making the place downright cozy after the harrowing trek they’d made through the streets. Shauna flopped down in an easy chair and didn’t get up again. David poked around to make sure everything was as he expected, then went into his bedroom to change his clothes. “See what you can find in the kitchen,” he told the others. “There probably isn’t much. I usually eat out.”
While McLean checked the windows and doors and peered outside, Carrie dug in the cupboards and came up with nothing but a half-eaten box of cereal, a can of tomato juice, and some rice-a-roni. There was a video game console and a big TV, but little else. McLean snorted in disgust. “Not exactly a fortress,” he said. “But hopefully this neighborhood will be overlooked by the real bad guys. There’s probably no reason for them to come here.”
“Be nice,” Carrie replied. “And hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly did you become Mr. Lethal Weapon? You told me once that you’d never served in the military, but you could have fooled me back there with the thugs. And yesterday at my car, too.”
McLean leaned his shotgun against the wall and dug another shell out of a pouch on his pack to replace the one he’d spent. “I haven’t been in the Army. But they don’t have a corner on the market for intimidation and weapons expertise. I have spent a lot of time around military and law enforcement guys. And I have some ex-Army friends that have trained me to a certain degree. I wouldn’t know how to operate military equipment or perform infantry maneuvers in a platoon, but I know guns and I know how to handle myself in a squad-level firefight. I’ve gotten myself through some rough encounters over the years.”
David had been in his room for ten minutes and hadn’t come out. McLean, meaning to ask him a few questions about neighborhood defensibility,
The thug pulled the girl around in front of him. “This is my girlfriend, dude. Well, she used to be. And now she gonna be again! You got no right--”
McLean fired a warning shot at the one in the yard, and he sprinted away into the dark. The one on the porch swore and let go as the girl twisted free of him and scrambled away into the bushes. McLean shined his light right in the guy’s face, forcing him to put up a hand against the glare.
“If you have a gun behind your back, you’d best drop it. Then step away off that porch real slow, and follow your buddy there. Then don’t ever come back, or you won’t get a warning shot. I’ll just kill you.”
The thug slowly came down from the porch and edged around the side of the house toward his confederate’s escape route. McLean saw his arms coming gradually down toward his waist, and rushed forward with a yell, aiming the shotgun at the guy’s head. This broke his nerve, and the thug turned and ran. As he did so, a revolver jostled free of his waistband and fell in the grass.
McLean walked over and kicked it toward the porch, where the girl was emerging from the bushes. “You might want to hang on to this, in case that punk ever comes back,” he told her. “If he does, give it to him. Right in the chest.”
The girl grabbed the gun and ran inside the house, shutting the door.
McLean checked to make sure all was clear on the street, and got the others moving again. “Nice neighborhood you’ve got here,” he told David with a hard glare. “We stick together, with me in the lead! Nobody go ahead of me.”
Only two more blocks up they arrived at David’s home. It was the eastern half of a small duplex, with no back yard and nothing but a solitary crab apple tree in front. There were no cars in any of the driveways or on the street. The end of the block opened up into a parking lot for some businesses, beyond which lay the freeway and a commercial district.
David fumbled at the door in the dark, got it open, and led the way inside. Carrie turned on a flashlight and then lit a candle she’d brought, making the place downright cozy after the harrowing trek they’d made through the streets. Shauna flopped down in an easy chair and didn’t get up again. David poked around to make sure everything was as he expected, then went into his bedroom to change his clothes. “See what you can find in the kitchen,” he told the others. “There probably isn’t much. I usually eat out.”
While McLean checked the windows and doors and peered outside, Carrie dug in the cupboards and came up with nothing but a half-eaten box of cereal, a can of tomato juice, and some rice-a-roni. There was a video game console and a big TV, but little else. McLean snorted in disgust. “Not exactly a fortress,” he said. “But hopefully this neighborhood will be overlooked by the real bad guys. There’s probably no reason for them to come here.”
“Be nice,” Carrie replied. “And hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly did you become Mr. Lethal Weapon? You told me once that you’d never served in the military, but you could have fooled me back there with the thugs. And yesterday at my car, too.”
McLean leaned his shotgun against the wall and dug another shell out of a pouch on his pack to replace the one he’d spent. “I haven’t been in the Army. But they don’t have a corner on the market for intimidation and weapons expertise. I have spent a lot of time around military and law enforcement guys. And I have some ex-Army friends that have trained me to a certain degree. I wouldn’t know how to operate military equipment or perform infantry maneuvers in a platoon, but I know guns and I know how to handle myself in a squad-level firefight. I’ve gotten myself through some rough encounters over the years.”
David had been in his room for ten minutes and hadn’t come out. McLean, meaning to ask him a few questions about neighborhood defensibility,
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