by Scott Blade
Behind Tyler and Gray was a pile of old logs for the fireplace. They exploded and splintered from the gunfire coming from their assailants.
While Widow waited, several more bullets exploded on the other side of the tree. He could tell the weapon firing at him was an AR-15.
He crouched and hugged the tree and peered around the edge with one eye. He saw the muzzle flashes from all over the place. But he waited until he saw the one firing at him.
He saw it burst into automatic fire.
Widow aimed and fired! One! Two! Three! times at the assailant shooting at him. He saw one more muzzle flash from returning fire, but that was the last. In that last muzzle flash, he saw another meth head. He was virtually identical to the one he’d just killed. He had the same skin-and-bones look, the same tattered clothes, and the same unshowered appearance.
Widow saw the guy's chest explode from three rounds, all from his Sig Sauer.
This got the attention of the other shooters. More than one of them started to fire at Widow's tree. He ducked back behind it.
He looked over at the back porch.
"SONYA?" he called out.
"WIDOW? HOW DID YOU?" she said, but never finished.
He called out, "SONYA, GO INTO THE HOUSE! I'LL COVER YOU GUYS!"
She called back, "IT'S LOCKED!"
"TYLER?"
Tyler called back, "YEAH?"
"USE THE SHOTGUN! BLOW THE LOCK OFF! I'LL COVER YOU!"
Tyler didn't respond; he just turned back to the door and aimed his shotgun and fired and pumped and fired and pumped and fired!
Widow hopped out from the other side of the tree and started firing blindly at every muzzle flash he could see, which was good because it got every meth head's attention. But it was also bad because it got every meth head's attention.
Suddenly, he was under fire from all of them. Widow ducked back behind the tree and heard so many gunshots he could no longer distinguish them individually or tell how many shooters there were.
The other side of the tree exploded and rocked and splintered. He felt the impact of each bullet rattle through the nearly dead tree. Now, he was worried. It was only a matter of time before they cut through the tree.
He called out, "SONYA?"
"YEAH?"
"HURRY! GET THROUGH THE BACK DOOR!"
Widow saw Tyler turn away from the back door and pop out from cover. He started firing and pumping at the meth heads. He was trying to buy Gray time. Maybe he wasn't a traitor after all.
Two seconds later, Widow heard Tyler shout at her to go, and he saw Gray's small figure hop up and burst into a full sprint at the back door. The door was still shut, but the lock and the knob were completely blown out from Tyler's shotgun blasts.
Gray ducked her head down, pulled her Sig close, and rammed into the door with one shoulder. She busted through it! The door flew back on its hinges. And she was in.
Tyler kept firing and pumping and moving. He stayed low and tried to remain behind the railing of the porch. He was moving toward Widow's position.
He called out, "WIDOW! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE NOW!"
Widow got up on his feet and started to dash for the porch, but before he did he saw Tyler's chest explode! Once! Twice!
Tyler flopped back onto the pile of logs. He kept his grip on the shotgun.
Widow hoped his vest had taken both rounds.
Widow didn't wait any longer. He ran at the porch. He leaped right over the railing, didn't touch it. He landed on the floorboards, tucked the Sig in close to his body, and bolted toward Tyler's position.
Half of the meth heads fired at the tree where he had been, but three of them saw the change in position, saw his burst of speed, and fired at him. Bullets whizzed past him and slammed into the house's exterior wall. One bullet shattered a window, barely missing his shoulder.
Widow got to Tyler, grabbed him by the corner of his vest, and hauled him up to his feet. Tyler held onto the shotgun tightly.
Widow scrambled to the open back door and hauled Tyler with him. He was afraid they weren't going to make it because the meth head with the AR-15 realized he was firing at the tree for no reason and started shooting at Widow.
Just then, another window exploded from gunfire; only it came from inside the house.
Gray was firing back at the guy with the AR-15. She probably saved Widow's life.
He managed to get in through the open back door, and he hauled Tyler with him.
They burst through the open door, and Widow dumped Tyler down on the floor. He spun around and grabbed the back door, and slammed it shut. The lock and knob were destroyed, but he managed to wrench it closed.
Gray stopped shooting and ran over to Widow and Tyler. She leaped on Widow and hugged him tightly. Then she started feeling all over his body with her free hand.
Widow did the same back. He wasn't shy about it. He ran his hands all over her, checking everything, looking for damage, but she was all there.
She said, "Are you shot?"
"No. I'm okay. But Tyler was hit."
They both moved over to Tyler. He was still on the floor.
Gray knelt by him and inspected his vest.
She turned to Widow and said, "He's been shot. It went through the vest."
Tyler said, "I'm okay."
He tried to move, tried to lift himself up to his feet, but he fell back down again. He let out a scream.
Gray said, "No. Don't move."
Then she looked around. They could all see well enough inside the house because their eyes had adjusted to the dark. And there was enough starlight through the windows to dimly light the place.
Widow called out into the darkness for Daniels.
"Sheriff? Where are you?"
No answer.
Gray said, "Daniels?"
No response.
Tyler joined them.
"Clark?"
No answer.
Widow got to his feet, pointed the Sig out in front of him, and swept through the first floor of the house. He saw nothing or nobody. He passed the huge fireplace he had seen from the outside. It was enormous. It was big enough to cook a pig in.
He moved on to the front of the house and still saw no one. The only thing weird was he smelled something. It was faint, like it was soaked into the wood. He ignored it and moved on.
He saw a half-crumbled staircase and nothing else but a bunch of broken floorboards and exposed brick and rotted wood. The guys in the woods were definitely meth addicts because he stepped on broken needles and old bent spoons. They were all over the place.
He didn't find the sheriff until he got to the front door.
He stayed in the shadows because he heard voices out front. He looked out a window and saw Sheriff Daniels standing back by his police cruiser. He was staying behind it like it was cover from gunfire, only he wasn't alone. He stood there with three more guys. They were more of the meth heads. They stood there like old hunting buddies gathered around a campfire, only they were all armed.
Widow's mouth dropped. It wasn't Tyler who had betrayed them. It was Daniels.
Just then, a face appeared in the window. Another meth head was on the porch with a hunting rifle. He raised it fast to shoot Widow.
He wasn't fast enough.
Widow bounced back and shot through the glass, shattering the whole window. He squeezed off two bullets; both tore gaping holes through the meth head's gut, and he tumbled back violently and broke the porch railing. He tumbled back onto the dirt beyond.
The hunting rifle fell off the porch and out of sight.
The meth head's gut was black with blood. He screamed out in agony. He was gut shot, which was a horrible way to die. Widow could've shot him again, in the head or the heart. It would've been the merciful thing to do, but Widow wasn't feeling merciful.
Besides, Daniels and the other three meth heads all raised their guns and fired at him. He dodged right, out of the line of fire. Bullets sprayed through the open window and slammed
into the huge rock fireplace, doing virtually no damage. The fireplace was built like it was the main attraction. It was built to last. It was money well spent.
Widow ducked down and scrambled past the window and back to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Tyler was bleeding badly. His head rested in Gray's lap. She was on the floor on her knees. Tyler's vest was off. She had taken it off him so they could get a better look at his wound.
Widow saw that like the meth head he’d just shot, Tyler was also gutshot, and it was bad. Blood was everywhere. His clothes were soaked in blood. His hands held tightly to the bullet wound, but blood was all over them.
Gray was on her phone and cursing it.
Widow stopped dead in the doorway and stared at her.
She looked up at him and shook her head.
Tyler said, "There's no phone reception out here. Not this far out. Our only chance is to get Daniels to call for backup on his radio. Where is he?"
Widow shook his head.
"Daniels is with them."
Gray looked up at him.
"What?"
"Daniels betrayed us. He set us up. There's no missing kid here—no nine-one-one call. At least, it wasn't real. It was probably one of his meth buddies out there."
Gray asked, "Are you sure?"
"He's outside right now with them. I saw him. He shot at me."
Tyler held his gut tight and said, "Whaaa…what're we going to do?"
"Right now, we need to fortify the house. We're sitting ducks here."
Just then, Widow listened.
Gray said, "What?"
"They stopped firing and they’re not coming in."
Widow walked to the shattered back window and peeked out.
He saw the meth heads in the backyard, all covered in dark shadows like haunting figures. They were in a big circle around the house, surrounding it.
Suddenly, he realized what he had smelled earlier in front of the house. It was gasoline. He knew because he saw the meth heads light up fast. Each of them became visible nearly in unison.
They were lit up by firelight. They were each lighting Molotov cocktails.
Widow turned around fast and ran to Gray, grabbed Tyler by his arm, and lifted him up to his feet. He put one of Tyler's arms around his own head and grabbed the back of Tyler's pants and hauled him up. He started to carry the guy as fast as he could out of the kitchen.
Gray was shocked.
"What are you doing?"
"RUN!" Widow shouted at her.
She listened and followed him and Tyler back into the front of the house. They all heard windows shattering in the back of the house as Molotov cocktails burst through them.
At the front, the same thing happened. More Molotov cocktails came bursting through the windows and slamming into the outside of the structure.
Within seconds, the whole first floor of the house was up in flames.
Fifty-Four
The house was on fire. From the outside, the meth heads and Sheriff Daniels surrounded the house, giving each other a wide berth. There were five meth heads in the back, still alive, and three in the front, still alive, but one was dying an agonizing death from being gutshot.
Sheriff Daniels barked orders at them to stay vigilant, to stay ready for anything.
Inside the house, Widow led Gray and carried Tyler to the second floor of the house.
Before the Molotov cocktails contacted the gasoline-laced floors and walls, he had grabbed Tyler and lifted him and led Gray back to the staircase. They walked through the second level, searching for any meth heads or for a way out. They found neither.
They passed through rooms. Some had holes in the walls. Some had holes in the floors. In one room, there was a huge hole in the floor. Widow saw the garage below. The floor and wall of the garage were on fire, but there was a metal tool table, still standing, untouched by the flames. It wasn’t flammable, apparently. At least, it wasn’t flammable yet.
Widow noted the tools that lined the walls. One tool, in particular, was a heavy sledgehammer. It was laid across the wall like a rifle on display.
He wasn’t sure why he noted it. It was his primate brain that liked what it saw.
Finally, they found a bathroom with an old claw bathtub. Widow laid Tyler down in the tub and put his hands back on his gunshot wound.
“Keep pressure on that!” he said.
Tyler stayed quiet. He just nodded back that he understood.
Widow and Gray stepped into the other room.
Gray said, “I guess you should’ve stayed behind after all.”
“No, because I would be dead right now. Daniels set us up. This was an ambush. These meth heads are everywhere.”
Gray said, “Did I hear an automatic rifle out there?”
“It was an AR-15. Maybe more than one. I have no idea.”
Gray said, “I wish they had bows and arrows.”
Widow nodded but didn’t smile.
He said, “We don’t have much time. This house is old as dirt. Eventually, everything will come tumbling down.”
“How the hell do we get out of this?”
Widow stayed quiet for a long, long second. Gray holstered her Sig and wrapped both arms around him, hugged him tightly.
She said, “Thank you for not staying behind.”
He hugged her back.
They heard a wall somewhere in the house crumble from the fire.
Widow pulled back. He kept thinking, and she knew it. She saw it on his face.
Suddenly, he nodded, like a plan had been formed, and a decision had been made.
She said, “What?”
He told her. He had a plan. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan. She listened intently.
He laid it all out for her.
He turned, and they both searched until she found what they were looking for, which was a door to an attic. Widow went over to it, reached up, pulled a cord, and a ladder came down out of the roof.
He spent the next few minutes helping her and Tyler up into the attic. Tyler was bad, but he did most of the climbing himself. He knew he had to pull it together if he was going to live.
After Gray and Tyler were safe in the attic, Widow went to the front of the house.
He found a second-floor window, one that overlooked the front yard. He pulled the box of rifle bullets out of his pocket and tore the lid off it. He busted out the window and aimed the rifle at Daniels.
One of the meth heads shouted, “Sheriff! Look out!”
Daniels was a fat guy, but he could move. He dodged right and ducked down behind the tire well of his cruiser, which was fine by Widow because he wanted Daniels alive for now.
But the meth head who had shouted the warning gave out another warning. His head exploded in a puffball of red mist and brain fragments and shards of skull. A Remington Ultra Magnum bullet. It was more bullet than Widow needed, but he smiled at the results. He racked the bolt back and took out the brass from the spent shell. He loaded the next one and racked the bolt home.
The meth heads at the front of the house returned fire to his position. Bullets sprayed all over the exterior of the house. None of them even came through the broken window.
Widow took aim and exploded another meth head’s chest wide open. He racked the bolt back and dug out another .300 Remington Ultra Magnum bullet and fired at Daniels’ police cruiser. The bullet busted out the windshield. It exploded worse than the driver’s side window had. Glass was all over the front bench of the cruiser.
Widow repeated the process.
Daniels snuck around to the trunk and used his keys to pop it open. He scooped the bullhorn out of it and crept up the side of the car, staying down. He clicked the button and called out through the bullhorn.
“IT’S SHERIFF DANIELS! GET YOUR ASSES TO THE FRONT NOW! THIS MANIAC IS SNIPING US!”
Widow smiled.
In the attic, Gray and Tyler located a broken window that led out to the roof. Gray hauled Tyler over to it,
leaned him against the wall, and took a peek out the window. She saw into the backyard. She saw dark figures that were lit up as they approached the back of the house because of the fire on the ground floor.
In fact, the whole backyard was a lot more visible than before. She counted the meth heads. They numbered five alive, just as Widow had told her. Then she waited for his sniper shots. They came. She heard them. One. Two. Three.
Then she heard Daniels call out over the megaphone, as Widow had told her. The meth heads in the backyard all looked at each other like idiots. When they heard Daniels call for them, they all ran off to the front of the house. All of them went but one. One guy stayed behind, but at the far corner so he could see to the front.
Gray went back to Tyler.
“Okay. Here we go!”
“I can’t make it,” he said weakly.
“You have to!” she said, and she slapped him across the face.
He looked at her like he was suddenly awakened.
“Okay,” he said.
She hauled him up, and he stood on two feet and resting his armpit on the butt of the shotgun. She pushed open the window and crawled out. She took his arm and led him out onto the roof with her.
On the roof, Gray took the smoke grenade that Widow had given her and pulled the pin. She threw it to the ground beneath them and waited. The grenade ignited, and smoke steamed out. Within seconds, it was all over the place, so even the firelight wouldn’t help give away their position.
Then she took the shotgun from Tyler and tossed it below. Next, she helped him to the edge.
“On the count of three, you gotta jump,” she said.
“I don’t think I can make it.”
But she didn’t count to three. She didn’t even count to one. She shoved him off the roof. He landed hard on some shrubbery, which broke his fall, and he rolled off to the side.
Tyler was tough. The impact hurt, but he didn’t break anything, and he didn’t scream.
Gray went next. She landed on the ground not far away. She also hit hard but was lucky not to break anything. She sprained her ankle, however. She found out the moment she tried to get up and run over to Tyler.
