There would be time to grieve the loss of their friend later and mull over the should-haves or shouldn’t-haves of the situation. Those doubts and questions would haunt all of their thoughts regardless. That was par for the course and an unavoidable result of war. And although “war” was a harsh word, that was exactly what they were a part of right now.

  “Joel, I know how you feel, but I need you with me.” Ben was firm with his words, but only because he wanted his son to live. They were in for the fight of their lives.

  “Ben.” Ed held up what was left of the two-way radio; the bottom half dangled by a couple of wires. The shot Vince managed to get off with the KSG had struck the unit, rendering it useless.

  “Naturally,” Ben uttered under his breath. “Come on, let’s go out the back.” He stood his ground in the hallway, ushering first Joel and then Ed and Max past his position.

  “Is he…” Ed stared at Vince’s lifeless body. Max stopped briefly and sniffed at Vince before moving on.

  “Yeah… come on, let’s go. Nothing more we can do for him.” Ben despised how cold and uncaring his words sounded, but they were true. Ed nodded and put his head down while he and Max continued down the hallway after Joel.

  Ben was right behind them until they reached the back door.

  “All right, Ed, how do we get back to the sawmill from here?” Ben opened the door and checked outside before venturing out to the corner of the church. He counted at least a dozen Patriot Hooligans darting about the cul-de-sac. They had heard the shooting and were approaching the church cautiously, using any available cover to inch forward. After the explosion at the bank, they were justifiably gun-shy. Unfortunately, Ben had no such surprise in store for them here.

  “We can’t go that way, that’s for sure.” Ben pulled back from the corner and faced Ed.

  “We can cut through there and pick up the next street over. It’s not that far from here.” Ed pointed to the rear of the property, which was bordered by another dead hedge row.

  “Lead the way. But remember, slow is smooth, smooth is fast. We’re in a hurry, but running out in front of a bunch of trigger-happy Hooligans won’t get us home. Maybe avoid the streets if you can manage it.”

  Ed nodded nervously. It was a big responsibility, but Ben didn’t know the town or the street layout. Ed was the best man for the job, like it or not. Besides, Ben was more concerned about what was behind them than what was ahead. They still had the advantage in that the Hooligans didn’t know that their destination was the sawmill.

  Ben had considered running back inside the church and taking a few shots at the Hooligans from a window while Joel and Ed made a getaway, but he nixed the idea, partly because he didn’t know his way around but mostly because he wasn’t willing to let Joel out of his sight. The kid was still shaken up about Vince; that much was obvious. It wasn’t Joel’s first experience with loss. Jack had gone out in a similar fashion, but that was different. Joel had time to process that casualty and was afforded the chance for closure with the burial.

  Ben couldn’t fault his son for how he felt. After all, Vince was someone who had befriended them not so long ago, and despite his mistakes, he proved to be a good man. Vince’s death weighed heavily on Ben’s mind as well, but he had experience with that type of thing. He knew how to compartmentalize his thoughts and stay on task. A necessary skill that came from time and experience with unfortunate scenarios. It was a skill Ben hoped his son would get better at. At the same time, he hoped he wouldn’t have to.

  Ben kept an eye on their six and occasionally on his son, while Ed led them through one backyard after another, past deformed birdfeeders melted into blobs of hanging plastic and scorched playhouses that would never entertain children again. Not all the homes were destroyed, and Ben wondered if some of the residents had managed to escape this godforsaken place or met their fate at the hands of the Patriot Hooligans. There was no way of knowing, but the shattered windows and the darkened, lifeless interiors of the remaining houses reminded him of death.

  Normally, they drove through places like this as quickly as possible, but traveling on foot forced them to acknowledge the misery and suffering that had taken place here and in all the other places like it. Ben tried not to pay attention to the details, but it was nearly impossible to ignore the reminders that he and his crew were the lucky ones, despite all they had experienced.

  “How much farther?” Joel huffed.

  “Not much. Maybe a few more blocks,” Ed replied. Max was the only one that seemed unaffected. He almost seemed happy, panting and wagging his tail as they weaved over and around obstacles in their way. After he’d been locked up in a tiny cage, that was understandable, and Ben knew the feeling all too well. The fact that they were carrying too much gear wasn’t making the going any easier. Joel and Ed had vests loaded down with body armor and extra magazines. The helmets probably felt cumbersome as well. Ben was soaked with sweat, and he knew the protective gear was making things worse for Joel and Ed, but he insisted they wear it.

  Additionally, they were all carrying two weapons each now. Ben and Ed were taking turns lugging the duffle bag full of medicine. Ben carried the bag currently, though; he still felt bad about the injuries Joel and Ed had suffered during their interrogations and was doing his best to shoulder more than his share of the burden. But he wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue to do that. His knee was throbbing now; the medicine he took back at Ed’s house had worn off long ago. There was probably something in the duffle bag that would make the pain go away, but he didn’t want to take the time to stop and look.

  He just had to push through the pain a little longer. They all did. Once they reached the RZRs, they could relax a little or at least reduce the load and leave this place in their dust. He was looking forward to getting off his feet. Ben wasn’t sure getting to the RZRs meant they’d be home free, but that was what he told himself in order to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As long as they kept off the main streets, Ben saw no reason why they wouldn’t make it to the sawmill without any trouble. Things seemed to have quieted down since they left the church. He wasn’t naive enough to think the Hooligans had stopped looking for them, but finding three people on foot in a town this size wouldn’t be easy. And Ed was doing a stellar job of keeping them hidden on the path he was forging.

  The Hooligans had vehicles and they would certainly be patrolling. They’d pull out all the stops to find the three of them. That much they could count on, especially after the damage they’d inflicted on the gang. It was no longer about protecting their territory; capturing them was assuredly now a mission of revenge. Not that retribution wasn’t the main motivation since the first two bodies were discovered, but the Hooligans would stop at nothing now. And as much as he wanted to think they were almost through this ordeal, this was not the time to let their guard down.

  Ed held up a closed fist, signaling them to stop while he approached the end of a twisted vinyl fence. “This is the end of the residential area. That’s the street we first came in on. The sawmill is at the other end.”

  Ben moved forward, around Joel, and looked for himself. He recognized the street and some of the wrecks they’d used for cover when they snuck into town. The urge to make a run for it and traverse the last couple hundred yards to the vehicles was almost irresistible. But he knew better, and on top of that, he didn’t have the energy to sprint the distance without stopping. There was no point in putting off the inevitable.

  “Just like before. Cover to cover. I’ll be right behind you,” Ben instructed.

  Ed nodded and took one more look up and down the street before he and Max scurried to the closest car and stopped. Ben put his hand on Joel’s shoulder and scanned the street. “Go.”

  Joel took off running and nearly stumbled over the curb but regained his footing. It was Ben’s turn now, and Joel was waving him on.

  Buzz. Ben recognized the sound near his left ear as a fragment of the fence splintered off and hit him in the face. Someone was shooting at him! Not wasting any time trying to figure out where the shot had come from, he ran for the car where Joel and Ed were hiding. He heard several more shots while he was running, but fortunately, none were as close as the first. Joel and Ed began laying down cover fire until he reached an open shop window just beyond them and dove inside. He didn’t want them all pinned down behind the same cover. Peering back over the sill, he pulled out Jack’s AR-15 and tried to get a fix on a target.

  More shots were fired, and the car Ed and Joel were hiding behind started taking hits. Ben found the shooter near the fence he’d just run from a few seconds ago and opened fire. He dropped the gunman and put a couple more rounds into him for good measure. But he wasn’t alone; there were others in the vicinity, and they continued the assault. Ed and Joel were in danger of being hit. The car they were using as a shield wouldn’t protect them for long. Sooner or later, one of the Hooligans would get lucky.

  “Get ready to move!” Ben gave Joel and Ed a heads up as he loaded a fresh magazine into the MP5. As soon as the gun was ready to go, he sat up on his knees and started laying down fire in three-round bursts.

  “Go, go, go!” Ben shouted. Ed, Joel, and Max ran for the next available spot that would provide a defendable position; it was the remains of a flower shop on the opposite side of the street. The location gave them the advantage of being out of the line of fire temporarily. Ben leaped to his feet and followed a few seconds later while continuing to lay down suppressive fire at the Hooligans. He made a brief stop at the car Joel and Ed had been hiding behind and rushed another magazine into the MP5. After several bullets hit the car, he popped up and resumed shooting. Ben spent the entire thirty-round magazine by the time he reached Joel and Ed.

  Fortunately, they were waiting and were prepared to back him up while he reloaded the MP5 and then switched over to the AR-15. He set up behind what was left of a brick wall at the front of the store.

  “Are you okay?” Joel blurted out.

  “I’m fine. Reload and get ready to move again.” Ben glanced around and saw a FedEx truck with its front end rammed into a row of shops about fifty yards down from their location on the same side of the street. “There, FedEx.” He pointed. “Wait until I say.”

  “Got it.” Ed surprised Ben and took a position a few yards away along the same brick wall, his AR-15 ready to go. Max was tucked neatly beside him. Ben waited as the Hooligans giving chase were forced to cross their shooting lane in order to follow them down the street. The first two were easy targets; he and Ed caught them off guard and mowed them down before they could make it to cover.

  “I got one!” Ed boasted, like a kid at a carnival rifle range. The remark, combined with Ed’s increased rate of fire, caught Ben off guard, and he didn’t notice Joel move into position at the front corner of the store until his son opened fire. His target, a man across the street that Ben hadn’t seen until now, was sneaking along the edge of the sidewalk in the shadows. Joel took him down with his first shot but missed the follow-up, and the guy managed to crawl to safety before Ben could assist.

  Crack… crack… crack… crack. Ed continued hammering away. At what, Ben wasn’t entirely sure. Adrenaline had clearly taken over.

  “Ed, take it easy. We still have a lot of ground to cover,” Ben warned.

  “Right, sorry.” Ed took a deep breath and blew it out loudly, searching for a target more responsibly. Four bodies lay in the street, but there was still plenty of movement in the shadows. It was time to move, before reinforcements arrived.

  “Ed, you better reload before we make a move,” Ben suggested. “How’s everybody looking on ammo?”

  “I’m in good shape.” Joel patted the magazines strapped to his vest.

  “Four mags left for the MP5 and three for the AR, plus a few rounds left in this one,” Ed reported.

  “All right, let’s take a position behind that FedEx truck. From there, it’s a straight shot to the sawmill. We’re almost there. Make your shots count,” Ben advised.

  “Go ahead. I’ll cover you guys,” Joel volunteered. Ben appreciated the bravery and had to admit his son’s bravado made him proud, but there was no way that was happening, not in this lifetime or any other.

  “I don’t think so,” Ben huffed. “Now, get ready to move out.”

  By the look on Joel’s face, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about the order, but Ben didn’t care. Instead, he focused on the fact that his son had moved on from the trauma of seeing Vince die, at least for the time being. Ben settled on a target before giving the go-ahead and immediately began laying down another volley of cover fire while his son and Ed made for the truck.

  Ben was more selective this time and noticed someone hiding behind an abandoned car. He was able to hit the man in the leg, causing him to scream out in pain. He continued calling out for help from his friends, but no one came to his aid, and they were smart not to. With Ben’s skill and the Trijicon scope, they wouldn’t last long out in the open.

  With Joel and Ed safely behind the truck and ready to return fire, it was Ben’s turn to fall back. He took a couple more shots and left the safety of the storefront. As he closed in on the truck, Joel’s expression changed. Ben glanced back over his shoulder and spotted the reason for Joel’s concern. At the far end of the street, a cluster of vehicles had gathered. It was hard to see them all clearly in the early-morning haze, but the group appeared to consist of a few ATVs, dirt bikes, and at least two pickup trucks. He knew the Hooligan cavalry would show up eventually, but he wasn’t expecting this.

  The ATVs and dirt bikes would be able to follow the RZRs without any trouble. The narrow trails back to Ed’s house were always Ben’s backup plan if they ran into trouble getting out of town. His aspirations of a quick and easy escape were slipping away, and the prospect of the Patriot Hooligans being able to give chase all the way back to Ed’s house was a scary one; it meant putting the others at the house at risk. If the Hooligans found out about Ed’s place, they wouldn’t forget about it and all its resources until they owned it or died trying to steal it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Joel caught a woman with a shotgun out of the corner of his eye. She was lurking behind a dumpster. He took his shot but missed by a few inches, and she was able to drop out of sight. If there was one thing he should have learned by now, it was that the laser sight on his AR-15 was set a little high. No matter the yardage, the bullet always seemed to hit a couple of inches below the green dot. He had to remember that.

  “Hurry up,” Ed yelled as Ben sprinted toward them while Joel looked for the next protruding body part or person that looked like they were about to take a shot at them. Ed had taken a position inside the open truck and was prone on the floor, taking shots as well.

  “Come on, Dad.” Joel tried not to sound overly worried, but he was. This was by far the scariest experience he’d ever been a part of, and that was saying a lot these days. Before now, Joel was beginning to consider himself a seasoned survivor. He’d seen his share of dire situations over the last few weeks, but the fight they were in right now made the rest pale in comparison.

  His dad hit the ground and slid the last couple of feet like a baseball player stealing home plate. Joel had never seen him move that fast before, and even though his dad was starting to limp, Joel hadn’t seen his pace suffer for it.

  “You and Ed get to the RZRs and load up while I stall them.” His dad shimmied out of the duffle bag and let it fall to the ground. “Make sure you secure everything well. It’s going to be a wild ride home.” He pushed the bag at Joel. “Especially this.”

  “We’re not leaving you here.” Ed’s voice echoed inside the empty delivery truck as he made his way through the vehicle, eventually jumping out from the passenger side door. Max stuck to him like Velcro.

  “I don’t plan on staying long. I just want you guys to get things ready to go. Get Max buckled in. Tie everything down that you don’t want to lose,” Ben instructed them. Joel didn’t like the idea of leaving his dad here, either. The RZRs were still a good distance away. A hundred yards, if he had to guess. He thought about the rifle range back home.

  “Go on, get going. I’ll be right behind you.” His dad started to crawl under the truck, stopping just before he disappeared. “Joel, you’re driving. Remember where the key is?”

  The statement caught Joel off guard, and he drew a blank for a minute while struggling to accept the fact that he would be driving. He wasn’t expecting that.

  “It’s over the back driver’s side tire.” And just like that, his dad was gone and Ed was encouraging him to get moving. There was no time to think. Joel grabbed the duffle bag and threw the shoulder strap over his head and across his chest. Loaded down with all this gear, he would have to use up everything he had left in the tank. The vest and helmet alone were cumbersome, but with two heavy guns and the duffle bag, his load was downright unwieldy.

  Ed grabbed Joel’s shoulder and pulled him back away from the corner of the truck, taking his place.

  “Get going. I’m sending Max with you.” Ed stuck his free hand out flat in the direction of the RZRs and commanded Max to go. The dog hesitated briefly and looked confused.

  Crack… crack. His dad popped off a couple of rounds from under the truck, and it startled Joel for some reason.

  “Max, follow.” This time, Ed pointed at Joel, and Max immediately began to follow him. Ed turned and set up at the corner of the truck where he’d been shooting from. Suddenly, Joel felt a rush of energy flood through his body, and before he knew it, he was on his way toward the RZRs. It was like his legs had a mind of their own and he was along for the ride. Max, of course, had no trouble keeping up and barked excitedly at Joel while they ran, as if he was urging him to move faster.

 

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