by Baron Sord
When my eyes touched on the house with two squat palm trees out front and an old beater pickup truck in the driveway, something stabbed me in the head.
…STOP IT! DON’T SHOOT MY BABY!…
This was it.
I took a step toward the house then hesitated.
This wasn’t a clear cut situation like with Pudgy Batman. In that case, I had seen all the players involved at a glance, and the terrain was an alley. There were no hidden angles or hidden shooters to worry about.
By comparison, the inside of a house was a deadly maze. I wasn’t worried about myself, but there were women and children inside and somebody had a gun. I didn’t want anyone innocent getting shot.
I closed my eyes and focused on the house, trying to sense the people inside. Sadly, no heat map appeared in my mind.
Wait, why not?
I concentrated on extracting heat from the asphalt. Unfortunately, all I saw in my mind was an expanding pool of cool blue at my feet as my body warmed. The rest of the world in my mind was pitch black.
This wasn’t the right solution.
I needed to focus on the thoughts of the victims instead. I stopped my heat draw and concentrated. I had a vague sense of individual thoughts scattered throughout the house, but I couldn’t determine location or tell one from the other. They were jumbled and crazy, almost like they were asleep and dreaming.
Wait.
New, clearer thoughts.
…Quiet. Don’t wake them…
…Yeah…
…We get the mom and dad first…
…Yeah…
…kids after…
…Yeah…
On the heels of those thoughts, a wave of rancid nausea washed over me.
This was a home invasion.
The family was asleep and these assholes were breaking in to do evil. Cowards. I hated them immediately. Who would do that to a family? I wanted to kill the invaders.
I took a moment to calm down.
My plan tonight was to not kill anybody… else.
But I was going to stop this home invasion.
How should I enter the house? Not the front door. Around back. I went around to the side of the house and found the gate open. Went through. Took care with each step to stay silent as I walked along a concrete path to the backyard. Bicycles, a rusty BBQ grill, and lawn furniture littered the cracked concrete pads that formed the backyard, which was fenced-in on all sides.
Bright light hit me in the eyes and I froze.
Creeping around someone’s backyard dressed like a ninja looked really bad.
If this was a cop shining a flashlight in my face, I was done.
I shaded my eyes with my hand, trying to see around the glare. The light was ruining my night vision, which was the point. After a moment, it became obvious the light was attached to the back of the house. It was probably on a motion detector.
I stepped back into the shadows at the side of the house and waited for the light to click off.
A few moments later, it did.
I waited for my night vision to improve, and to see if the intruders might come out to investigate.
Were they inside?
I wasn’t entirely sure.
For all I knew, they weren’t here yet.
Just because the side gate was open didn’t mean they had come through it. Maybe the family had left it open. If the crooks weren’t inside yet, I didn’t want to go in first. What if I woke one of the parents? Or the kids? They’d think the guy in the ninja costume (me) was the criminal.
Best for me to wait.
If the intruders weren’t here, where would they come in from? The gate like I had? Over the fence from a neighboring yard? Seemed unlikely with all these houses. Through the front door? Did the intruders know the family inside? Maybe they had a key? For all I knew, they did.
Pain shocked my brain.
…gulph!…
…make a sound and you’re dead…
They were already inside.
I knew it.
My heart started to pound.
I shaded my eyes as I crept out of hiding, once again tripping the security light. Shaded my eyes with my hand and squinted, trying to minimize the amount of light hitting my eyes. Found the sliding patio door. It was open an inch.
I slid it across the tracks and stepped inside onto a tiled floor.
The light outside behind me was bright enough to illuminate a combined kitchen, dining, and living area with three couches and a couple of fancy recliners. One of them was one of those massage chairs that cost an arm and a leg but was worth every penny. Looked brand new. The dining room table was hardwood and sat eight. An expensive chandelier hung over candles and an elaborate centerpiece. The owners knew how to decorate and had the money to do it. You wouldn’t know it from the outside, but the inside was luxurious. Maybe the criminals knew that. No time to worry about it.
I saw a hallway straight ahead and a doorway to the left.
I crept forward, hoping the hallway led to the bedrooms.
I traveled through time as I passed by a series of framed photos in the hallway showing a smiling Hispanic mom, dad, and their two kids. I watched the boy and girl go from babies to teenagers and the youthful parents soften into middle age. Soccer photos, baseball photos, tennis lessons, vacation photos of Disneyland and Mexico. They looked loving and happy in every single picture.
I wanted to keep it that way.
I passed a second dark living room to my right. It had a big black leather couch and matching love seat, comfy recliner, a huge flatscreen TV bolted to the wall, sound system, the newest Xbox, Playstation, and piles of controllers and games. A laptop sat on the coffee table next to a tablet. In the corner was a custom gaming PC with a big monitor on a small desk. Framed movie posters covered the walls. Raiders of the Lost Ark. Harry Potter. Transformers. Avatar. The perfect suburban home theater.
I could imagine the teenage boy sitting at the PC playing games while the teenage daughter was on the floor, engrossed in her tablet, and the parents sat on the couch watching a movie together.
One big happy family.
And somebody wanted to ruin it.
When I turned and peered down another hallway, the fantasy was finally shattered by harsh reality. An open door at the end of the hall revealed the scene.
A master bedroom.
The mom sat in bed, up against the headboard, wearing a silk nightgown with her hands in the air.
The dad was on his stomach in boxers, face buried in his pillow, the barrel of a revolver pushed into his skull.
I could see the arms of the first intruder holding a gun hovering over the dad, but not the second intruder who was pointing another gun at the mom. He or she was completely hidden behind the doorframe except for their gun.
Was that it? Two gunmen? Or was there a third or fourth or fifth hidden from view, waiting to shoot if I made a move?
I wasn’t worried about me.
I was worried about the family.
I didn’t know what to do, but I had to do something. Wait. Yes I did. I was bulletproof. I needed to get the guns aimed at me.
But I had to do it carefully.
I took note of the other doors in the hallway. One was open and had a nightlight shining from inside. I saw the corner of a mirror and a sink. A bathroom.
The other two doors were closed. The bedrooms. The kids were probably inside, hopefully still asleep. If they came out now, they’d think I was also an intruder. That could create more problems. I had enough already. The second I showed myself, things were going to get very confusing for the two parents and the two (or more) intruders in the master bedroom. As long as the kids were in their rooms, they would be mostly safe.
Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any shooting.
I crept down the carpeted hallway toward the master bedroom.
Time to engage.
When I got to the doorframe, I stopped and stood there. Only two gunmen I could see. I didn’
t want to startle either. They might accidentally shoot the mom and dad.
I realized the two gunmen were also dressed completely in black. We looked like a team.
That might actually work in my favor.
The mom saw me first. She was already freaking out. One more intruder didn’t make any difference to her. That said, based on her emotions, I got the impression she was worrying about her kids. I couldn’t tell from her thoughts because they were all in Spanish. For all she knew, I could be one of several other gunman in the house or her kid’s bedrooms pointing guns at her babies or doing who knew what to them.
I could appreciate her concern because I still didn’t know whether or not there were any other gunmen hiding in the house besides these two.
I made eye contact with the mom, held my finger up to my masked mouth to make the universal “Shhh” symbol while holding up my other hand to show it was empty and I meant no harm. I prayed she could figure out I wasn’t on the side of the gunmen. Wait, maybe she could. Could I send her a telepathic message?
It was worth a shot.
I’m not with them. I’m here to help. Stay calm. You’re going to be okay. Just do what I say, okay?
Her eyes darted around nervously, going between the gunmen and me.
Had she heard me?
Had she understood?
I couldn’t tell.
The gunman pointing his revolver at the dad suddenly spun around and pointed it at me. “Who the fuck are you?”
Before I could even flinch, the other gunman grabbed the mom by the hair and yanked her off the bed. She thudded onto the floor and yelped, grabbing at the man’s hands, trying to take the pressure off her hair. The gunman pressed an automatic into the top of her head and glared at me.
He barked at his partner, “Who’s this fucking guy?”
“I don’t fucking know!” the guy with the revolver said.
I held up my empty hands.
The dad tried to turn over on the bed.
Revolver gunman growled, “Get the fuck down, Dad!” He jammed his revolver into the dad’s back.
Dad flopped back down.
Automatic gunman said to me, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Calm down,” I said.
“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do!” Automatic hissed, pointing his pistol at me. “Down on your knees!”
I took a step forward.
“One more step and I blow you away, motherfucker.”
I took another step.
“Mmph!” The dad was struggling.
“Stop fucking moving!” Revolver hammered Dad in the back of the head with the butt of the revolver several times.
“No!” The mom wailed, “Stop it! You’re killing him!”
Automatic kneed her in the back.
She spilled forward on the floor.
Automatic growled, “I’ll kill you if you don’t shut the fuck up, you fucking cunt!” He planted a boot on her back, pinning her down. Then he swung his gun around to me.
Revolver’s gun was on me too.
That was progress.
All guns on me.
Now I could finally do something without the parents getting shot.
WHAM!
Something slammed into the back of my head and I went flying forward, stumbling onto all fours.
“Don’t you hurt my mom, asshole!”
WHAM!
Another whack to my back.
I wasn’t in pain, but I was surprised and hadn’t figured out what was happening. Because the room was so small, I had no place to go. The foot of the bed was in my face. Whoever was behind me and hitting me repeatedly was inches away. Revolver blocked my path on the left and the mom blocked my path on the right. All I could do as turn over and hold my hands up defensively while facing my assailant.
“Asshole!” It was the teenage son. He swung a baseball bat at my forearms.
“Stop!” I shouted. “I’m trying to help!”
“Get him, Daniel! Get him!” The teenage daughter was right behind Daniel, holding a tennis racket.
Daniel did what his sister said. He went ape shit with the bat. On me. Kid had a swing like Barry Bonds. Every time he swung and connected with my forearms, it felt like they were going to break.
Automatic chuckled, “Get him, kid.”
Mom! I thought as strongly as possible. Tell your son to stop! I’m here to help!
“Daniel!” the mom shouted. “Stop it!”
WHAM!
This time, the kid clocked me in the head. Right on the temple. I should’ve been out like a light, but I wasn’t.
While looking at his mom, Daniel gripped the bat tightly, furious and ready to swing at me again.
“Hey kid,” Automatic said calmly. “Drop the fucking bat or I shoot your mom in the head.”
The mom gasped, “Do what he says, Daniel.”
Daniel dropped the bat. It landed on the floor between my legs with a clunk.
“You, princess,” Automatic said to the daughter while waving his gun. “Get in here or your mom dies.”
“Please don’t hurt my daughter,” the mom said in Mexican-accented English.
Automatic barked, “Shut the fuck up, cunt! Get in here, princess!”
The mom said, “Do what he says, Maria.”
Still holding the tennis racket, Maria walked into the room.
Revolver said, “Drop the racket, shorty.”
Maria threw it to the floor like it was on fire.
“Come over here by your mom,” Automatic said.
Maria was starting to cry. “No.” She shook her head.
“GET IN HERE!” Automatic shouted.
“No! You’re going to kill my mom!” Maria was sobbing now.
“GET THE FUCK IN HERE, YOU LITTLE BITCH!” He cocked the hammer on his automatic and ground it into the mom’s scalp. “OR YOUR MOM DIES!”
“No!” Maria turned and ran down the hallway.
“God damn it!” Automatic shouted. He dropped Mom and shoved Daniel out of the way. “Keep an eye on them,” he said to Revolver before running down the hallway after Maria.
Revolver trained his gun on Daniel, who was squatting down to pick up the bat.
I had to admire the kid. He didn’t give up.
Revolver said to Daniel, “Don’t even think about it, shorty.”
Daniel released the bat and stood up slowly.
“Get in the corner by your mom.” Revolver waved his gun toward her.
Daniel stepped over me and went to his mom, kneeling beside her. “You okay, Mom?”
“I’m okay,” she sniffled, hugging her son’s leg.
Now was my chance. I shot to my feet.
“Sit the fuck down, motherfucker!” Revolver pointed his cannon right between my eyes.
After getting shot while helping Pudgy Batman, I definitely didn’t want to get shot in the face. Yes I healed quickly, but what happened if I couldn’t heal quickly enough? Or if a bullet to my brain could never heal? Not worth the risk. I said calmly, “You’re going to miss if you aim for my face.”
“What?” Revolver was confused.
He still stood too far away for me to reach without lunging, otherwise I would’ve gone for his gun.
“Aim for my chest,” I suggested. “You’ll miss if you don’t.”
“The fuck I won’t!” He held it steady and aimed at my face.
So I ducked and lunged to the left.
BAM!
I slammed him against the wall.
BOOM!
His revolver roared.
I already had my hand around Revolver’s wrist, the one with the gun. I squeezed the bones together as hard as I could.
Crack!
He yelped.
I banged his hand up against the wall as I pulled him off the ground by his arm and punched him in the sternum at the same time.
“Oof!”
Then I punched him in the throat.
“Gack!”
Hooked a rig
ht into his temple and connected.
He dropped, out cold.
Surprisingly, he still had the revolver in his hand. I peeled it from his limp grip. Grabbed it by the frame and cylinder, keeping my fingers away from the trigger. I didn’t want to accidentally shoot anybody. I made sure the hammer wasn’t cocked. It wasn’t. Turned to the mom and Daniel.
“I’m here to help,” I muttered through my black ski mask. “Stay here. I’ll go get your daughter. She’s going to be okay.”
“No she’s not,” Automatic hissed behind me.
I spun around.
Automatic stood in the doorway with his arm clamped around Maria’s neck in a one-arm chokehold. His automatic was pressed hard against her temple. Her head was tipped back and her eyes darted around in fear. Her arms were at her sides and all her fingers were extended in rigid panic. She was stiff as a board.
Automatic growled at me, “Drop the gun or I kill the kid.”
Maria sniffed, “Please do what he says, mister! I don’t want to die! Please!”
Whoops.
Slight miscalculation on my part.
Things had just gone from bad to horrific.
Having super powers didn’t make things any easier, did it?
Was there any way out of this predicament that didn’t leave Maria dead or dying?
If there was, I had no idea what it was…
—: o o o :—
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