Read Online Shortage (Best Laid Plans Book 2) by Nathan Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nathan Jones
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it.
“That redhead in front with the parka and snow pants. I've got a treat for her, too. Dibs.”
A few of the other bandits guffawed, although quietly. “What're you doing staking a claim when there'll be plenty to go around?” one asked.
“That's what I'm calling dibs for. I want my pick of the best one.”
“No way. We might want to keep some of these around for a while, unlike that last group, and you're always the worst about breaking your toys. You can have the old biddy next to her.” That caused another outburst of harsh laughter from the bandits.
Shaking slightly with rage he was having trouble controlling at these awful words and the casualness with which they were being spoken, Trev glanced up the slope at where Lewis crouched behind a stump. His cousin was using it for the bipod of his rifle and sighting down his scope at the bandit ambush below. When Lewis noticed Trev looking his way his cousin gave him a doubtful look, still worried about the numbers, but Trev motioned firmly to go ahead.
Then, galvanized by what he'd just heard, Trev raised his own rifle and pointed the crosshairs of the scope dead center on the back of the bandit who'd called dibs. Only taking a moment to calm his shaking hands and steady his aim, he held his breath and squeezed the trigger.
His gun bucked in his hands and the bandit lurched forward. There was no sign of a wound, but somewhere among the folds of his heavy winter coat a small but deadly hole had punched through, possibly into a larger and messier hole on the other side.
Tactically speaking he probably should've shot the bandit with the scoped rifle first, but after listening to that exchange he wanted to make sure this guy didn't walk away. He reset his aim and fired again at the same bandit's back as he slumped down, then swapped targets to the bandit with the scoped rifle who was just now whirling onto his back behind the log they'd been using as cover. The unkempt man searched desperately for where the shots had come from, but before he could solve the mystery Trev shot him somewhere in the torso, and with no other options he pulled himself over the log to hide behind it.
Up the hill he heard Lewis's heavier .308 barking as his cousin took his own shots, and down below the bandit with a shotgun went down gurgling and clutching his throat. Either a lucky shot or the scope was aiming high.
That was a good start, but unfortunately from there things went south. The remaining bandits also managed to get behind the cover of the log, one grabbing the shotgun from his fallen partner in crime as he fled. Two of the bandits, the ones without guns, apparently lost stomach for a fight against armed enemies hidden in the trees above. They unexpectedly broke free of the log, leaving their packs and weapons behind as they dashed wildly down the slope southwards to take them away from the fighting and the refugees both.
That left three more, maybe only two if the bandit with the scoped rifle had survived his shot, but although Trev could hear them shouting he didn't see any targets as he whipped his scope back and forth. Then he heard some shots that weren't coming from his rifle or his cousin's, and to his horror he heard a high pitched whine and saw a white streak appear on the uprooted log directly in front of his face where a bullet had grazed it.
He ducked behind cover, heart thumping. He'd only been looking at the top of the log, but maybe there was a hollow below it and the bandit with the scoped rifle was shooting at them from there? Or maybe he hadn't been looking far enough to either side and someone had shot at him from one of the ends.
Either way he couldn't just sit here hoping for Lewis to bail him out or they were both dead. They'd taken out two bandits, maybe three.
Trev took a deep breath, then burst from cover and sprinted back the way he'd come, staying behind some of the largest trees as cover. He heard more gunshots and flinched with every sharp
“That redhead in front with the parka and snow pants. I've got a treat for her, too. Dibs.”
A few of the other bandits guffawed, although quietly. “What're you doing staking a claim when there'll be plenty to go around?” one asked.
“That's what I'm calling dibs for. I want my pick of the best one.”
“No way. We might want to keep some of these around for a while, unlike that last group, and you're always the worst about breaking your toys. You can have the old biddy next to her.” That caused another outburst of harsh laughter from the bandits.
Shaking slightly with rage he was having trouble controlling at these awful words and the casualness with which they were being spoken, Trev glanced up the slope at where Lewis crouched behind a stump. His cousin was using it for the bipod of his rifle and sighting down his scope at the bandit ambush below. When Lewis noticed Trev looking his way his cousin gave him a doubtful look, still worried about the numbers, but Trev motioned firmly to go ahead.
Then, galvanized by what he'd just heard, Trev raised his own rifle and pointed the crosshairs of the scope dead center on the back of the bandit who'd called dibs. Only taking a moment to calm his shaking hands and steady his aim, he held his breath and squeezed the trigger.
His gun bucked in his hands and the bandit lurched forward. There was no sign of a wound, but somewhere among the folds of his heavy winter coat a small but deadly hole had punched through, possibly into a larger and messier hole on the other side.
Tactically speaking he probably should've shot the bandit with the scoped rifle first, but after listening to that exchange he wanted to make sure this guy didn't walk away. He reset his aim and fired again at the same bandit's back as he slumped down, then swapped targets to the bandit with the scoped rifle who was just now whirling onto his back behind the log they'd been using as cover. The unkempt man searched desperately for where the shots had come from, but before he could solve the mystery Trev shot him somewhere in the torso, and with no other options he pulled himself over the log to hide behind it.
Up the hill he heard Lewis's heavier .308 barking as his cousin took his own shots, and down below the bandit with a shotgun went down gurgling and clutching his throat. Either a lucky shot or the scope was aiming high.
That was a good start, but unfortunately from there things went south. The remaining bandits also managed to get behind the cover of the log, one grabbing the shotgun from his fallen partner in crime as he fled. Two of the bandits, the ones without guns, apparently lost stomach for a fight against armed enemies hidden in the trees above. They unexpectedly broke free of the log, leaving their packs and weapons behind as they dashed wildly down the slope southwards to take them away from the fighting and the refugees both.
That left three more, maybe only two if the bandit with the scoped rifle had survived his shot, but although Trev could hear them shouting he didn't see any targets as he whipped his scope back and forth. Then he heard some shots that weren't coming from his rifle or his cousin's, and to his horror he heard a high pitched whine and saw a white streak appear on the uprooted log directly in front of his face where a bullet had grazed it.
He ducked behind cover, heart thumping. He'd only been looking at the top of the log, but maybe there was a hollow below it and the bandit with the scoped rifle was shooting at them from there? Or maybe he hadn't been looking far enough to either side and someone had shot at him from one of the ends.
Either way he couldn't just sit here hoping for Lewis to bail him out or they were both dead. They'd taken out two bandits, maybe three.
Trev took a deep breath, then burst from cover and sprinted back the way he'd come, staying behind some of the largest trees as cover. He heard more gunshots and flinched with every sharp
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