by Roger Hayden
“Everyone’s running low on food. Watch yourself,” Mike said.
Nelson watched Mike head to the front of the group, but saw him slow down once he made it. The whole group stopped, but nobody understood why. Nelson squinted in the distance to see what Mike was looking at, but it was too far to see. It wasn’t until the gunshots rang out that he realized what Mike was looking at.
“Jenna!” Jung yelled.
He rushed over to her. Claire and Jung Jr. were both crying. Jung Jr. had his mother’s blood on his face, shirt, and hands. He stared down at her, lying on the ground with a hole in her shoulder, oozing blood.
Everyone hit the ground once the gunshots were fired. Mike had waited for more shots to ring out, but nothing came. He looked through the sight of his rifle, trying to locate the source of the shot. He scanned the roadside, along the trees, around the abandoned cars, but he couldn’t see anyone.
He could only hear the screams coming from Jung who was hunched over his wife, keeping pressure on the wound.
“Jung! Get your family off the road and into the trees. Tom, help Jung carry Jenna,” Mike said.
Tom rushed over and hoisted Jenna up, lifting under her armpits. Mike looked up at Fay who was also flat on her belly looking through her scope, scanning to see where the gunfire had come from.
“Anything, Fay?” Mike asked.
Her right eye was squinted shut, while the other peered through the scope and her mouth hung open trying to locate the shooter.
“Not yet.” She continued looking. “Wait, I think I have something. Red sedan about one hundred yards out,” Fay said.
Mike swung his rifle to the sedan. She was right. Mike could see the top half of a head through the shattered back windows.
“Do you have a shot?” Mike asked.
“No.”
“Keep an eye on him until we get Jenna over to the trees.”
The tree line was thirty yards from the highway. Mike watched Jung and Tom carry Jenna through the open field of grass. He glanced back into his sight, relocating the shooter, whose rifle was positioned on the trunk of the car, pointed in the direction where Jenna was being taken.
Mike exhaled. He lined up his shot and squeezed the trigger on his rifle. The opposing shooter ducked back behind the vehicle. Mike’s eye searched the rest of the car. He went up and down trying to see if he could get another clean shot off, but found none. He looked back over and saw that the group had made it safely to the tree line.
“Fay, head for the forest. I’ll cover you. When you get in position keep an eye on the shooter for my run over, got it?” Mike asked.
“Okay,” she answered.
Mike stared down the road at the sedan. He could hear Fay’s footsteps hit the pavement and then disappear onto the grass. He felt the gravel of the road digging through his shirt into his stomach. His elbows rested on the hard asphalt, causing pain to shoot up through his arms. He waited a few more seconds before he looked over and saw Fay in the tree line with her rifle pointed toward the sedan.
Mike pushed himself off the pavement and sprinted toward the forest to meet with the rest of the group. His feet were heavy and slow. After days of walking with little to no sleep his body wasn’t holding together very well.
When he made it to the forest he smacked against a tree trunk for support. He could feel the sharp pain in his lungs with each breath. He tried to gain his composure, but he was feeling light headed.
Jung gripped Mike’s shoulder. Jenna’s blood covered Jung’s hands.
“Mike, help Jenna,” Jung said.
“Fay, make sure you keep an eye out,” Mike said.
“Got it,” Fay answered.
The bloodstain around Jenna’s shoulder covered most of her arm and the top half of her shirt. Mike ripped the shirt around the source of the wound to get a better look. The blood poured out of her like a river. He checked the back of her shoulder for an exit wound.
“The bullet’s still inside,” Mike said.
Mike grabbed Tom’s hands and placed them over Jenna’s shoulder. She cried out in pain from the pressure.
“Keep firm, even pressure on it,” Mike explained. “It’s going to hurt for her either way, so we need to keep as much blood in her as possible.”
Mike swung his backpack around. He unzipped the main pack flinging out extra clothes, water, and food until he pulled out a small medical kit he found at the airport. He popped the hatches off the top and pushed the bandages aside until he reached a pair of tweezers.
“Clarence, hold her down,” Mike said.
Clarence brought the weight of his body down on Jenna’s arms and legs.
“Jenna, this is going to hurt, but I need to get the bullet out so it doesn’t get infected okay?” Mike said.
“G-give me some medicine,” Jenna said.
“I don’t have anything to give you. I’ll try and make it quick,” Mike said.
Mike dug the tweezers into the open gash on Fay’s shoulder and she let out a scream. Her good arm and legs swung wildly as she tried to push them off of her.
“Keep her still!” Mike said.
Clarence pressed down harder, but Fay was going wild. Each time Mike dug deeper into Fay’s shoulder more blood poured out followed by writhing and screams. Mike probed through the jagged pieces of flesh until he reached the tip of the bullet.
“I think it got it,” Mike said.
Mike pulled out a .224 round and dumped it on the ground. The leaves, grass, and twigs around them were stained red. He grabbed the bandages from the medical kit. He handed a few to Tom and placed the bulk of the bandages on the wound itself. Mike wrapped it tightly.
“I’ve done what I can,” Mike said.
Jung dropped to his wife’s side. He held her hand in his. Mike crept over to Fay who was still watching the red sedan in the distance.
“Whoever shot her is still there. I didn’t see anyone come or go,” Fay said.
“Just the one?” Mike asked.
“As far as I can tell. Unless there’s another person down the road, or back behind the tree lines.”
“Let me see your scope,” Mike said.
The red sedan came into view, but he couldn’t see anyone. He moved the barrel a bit to the right to get a different view and then saw the shooter with his gun over the hood of the car, aimed right at him.
The bullet flew into the tree next to Mike, sending pieces of wood splintering into the air.
“So I guess he’s still there,” Fay said.
“Move everyone deeper into the trees,” Mike said.
Nelson grabbed Jung Jr. and Claire and led them deeper into the forest. Jung and Tom carried Jenna, and Clarence came up to join Mike and Fay by the tree line.
“What are we going to do?” Clarence asked.
Mike poked his head out just a bit to get another look at the sedan, then glanced up into the sky. It was only mid-afternoon and it would be another six hours before it became dark.
“If we don’t get Jenna some serious medical attention she could get an infection, blood poisoning, anything,” Mike said.
“But you took the bullet out,” Clarence said.
“That doesn’t mean she’s in the clear just yet,” Mike answered.
“We can move through the trees, deep enough to where he wouldn’t be able to hit us, but close enough for us to still see the road,” Fay said.
“I don’t want to risk this guy following us,” Mike said. “Clarence, you still have the pistol I gave you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Trade me.”
Clarence pulled the pistol from his waistband and handed it to Mike who gave him the rifle.
“Listen, I’m going to move down the edge of the forest until I get parallel with the car. I’m going to make a sprint for the sedan and try to force him out. When I start firing that’s when you guys give me cover,” Mike said.
“Mike, that’s a terrible idea,” Fay said.
“Yeah, what if we
miss, or what if he shoots you before you get to the car?” Clarence added.
“You two are the best shots in the group beside myself, and neither of you have had any training in close combat situations, so I’m making the run. It’ll force his hand. He’ll either fire back, or he’ll run.”
“Mike, think about what you’re doing,” Fay said.
“Keep a bead on him. We’ll hit from both angles. Confuse him,” Mike said.
Before Fay could stop him Mike rushed off. He weaved in and out of the trees keeping an eye on the sedan in the distance. Once he was parallel to the car on the road he crouched down.
Mike ejected the magazine from the pistol, checking the number of shots he had. Thirteen.
He shoved the magazine back into the pistol and racked the bullet from the magazine into the chamber. His thumb flipped the safety off. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the nerves melt out of him. He closed his eyes, slowly controlling his breathing through his nose.
When Mike opened his eyes he aimed the pistol and sprinted for the sedan twenty yards away. Dirt flew up from the ground as he tore off into the field separating the highway from the forest. He squeezed the trigger sending bullets into the trunk of the car, then another barrage of bullets went flying into the side of the sedan coming from Fay and Clarence.
Mike was ten yards away now and he could see the boots of a man underneath the front of the car by the hood. The clank of bullets from Fay and Clarence smacked against the side of the car.
Mike could see the shooter’s head now and the hail of bullets from Fay and Clarence hitting the car stopped when Mike reached the trunk. He dashed along the backside, his finger on the trigger, when the shooter came into full view.
He must have been no older than seventeen. The boy’s rifle was on the ground next to him and his hands were in the air. Mike’s finger left the trigger as he kicked the boy’s rifle away from him on the ground.
“Please,” the boy said.
“What are you doing out here? Why’d you shoot at us?” Mike asked.
“I thought you were with the people in town. I thought you were coming to hurt my family.”
“People in town? What town?”
“Carrollton. It’s just a few miles west of here. We had a group of bikers ride through and they killed everyone. They killed my grandfather. I just didn’t want anyone else to hurt my family.”
Mike picked the boy up by the scruff of his neck and threw him onto the hood of the car.
“So you thought you’d shoot at a group of people traveling with children?” Mike asked keeping the gun pointed at him.
The young man’s arms were out wide, his palms still up in surrender.
“I didn’t even mean to hit anyone. I was just trying to scare you. I swear,” the boy said.
“Your family still in town?”
“No, we have a farm just outside of it. It runs right along this road a few miles west. That’s why I was out here, to keep watch.”
Mike glanced down the road where the boy’s farm would be, then grabbed the collar of his shirt pulling him toward him.
“You have anyone else keeping watch?” Mike asked.
“No, it’s just me. It’s just me.”
Mike backed up, leaving the boy on the hood of the car. Mike picked up the rifle the boy dropped and slung it over his shoulder. With his pistol, Mike gestured toward the tree line.
“Walk,” Mike said.
The boy rolled off the hood of the car and started marching toward the forest. He kept glancing back at Mike, his eyes red and wet.
“Please, don’t kill me. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I swear,” the boy said.
Mike walked up behind him bringing both of the boy’s arms to his head.
“Keep your hands up where I can see them,” Mike said.
Clarence and Fay came out from behind their cover and started walking toward them.
“Mike, what are you doing?” Fay asked.
“Stop,” Mike said.
The boy froze, his hands still tucked behind the back of his head. Mike kicked the boy’s legs from under him, collapsing him to the ground. Mike tossed the boy’s rifle to Fay.
Tom and Nelson came rushing out.
“He’s just a kid,” Tom said.
“I keep telling him that it was just an accident. I wasn’t trying to hurt any of you. I was just trying to scare you off. I just wanted to protect my family,” the boy said.
“What do we do with him?” Clarence asked.
“You’re going to let him go, right, Mike?” Nelson asked.
“No, he’s going to take us to his barn and then we’re going to drop him off there and make sure he doesn’t follow us,” Mike said.
The boy’s expression eased. The color flushed back into his face and his body lost some of its tension.
“Thank you. Thank you, so much,” the boy said.
Jung came out from behind the trees. The boy caught sight of the blood stained over his clothes. Jung had a dazed look on his face. He walked like a zombie; jagged, limping steps propelled him forward. He stared at the boy sitting at the base of the tree.
“It was him?” Jung asked still looking at the boy.
“Yes,” Mike said.
The look Mike saw in Jung’s eye was a look he’d seen before. As much as Jung spoke about taking the non-violent road he could see the struggle in the man’s face. It was the first time someone had hurt a member of his family like that. It was the first time Jung had a taste of real violence in his life.
“You shot my wife,” Jung said.
“It was an accident,” the boy said.
“You could have hit my kids.”
“Take it easy, Jung,” Mike said, inching closer to Jung who had his eyes glued on the boy.
Before Mike had to intervene Jung turned away and headed back to his wife.
“Did she die?” the boy whispered.
“Not yet,” Mike answered.
Jenna was too weak to move, and everyone was too weak to carry her for a distance longer than twenty feet. Mike and Tom tried to carry her through the trees to the highway, but couldn’t even make it that far.
The boy, who told them his name was Billy Murth, said the farm he was from was a mile down the road.
“The farm has a cart we could wheel her back in,” Billy said.
“Fine. Me, Tom, and Nelson will go with Billy and grab the cart,” Mike said.
“I should come with you,” Jung said.
“No, you should stay here and make sure your wife and kids are okay,” Mike said. “That’s the best thing that you can do right now, Jung.”
Mike gave Nelson Billy’s rifle, and Mike took one of the rifles from their own stash and gave the handgun he was carrying to Tom. Mike pulled Fay to the side out of earshot from the rest of the group.
“If we don’t make it back, there might be a good chance that his family will come back here looking for you guys. Have somebody posted on watch at all times. The kid could be playing us,” Mike said.
“What am I supposed to do if you guys don’t make it back?” Fay asked.
“If we’re not back by nightfall and if Jenna gets some of her strength back, follow the tree line down the highway. There’s a dirt road that’s hidden with some brush about four miles west. It’ll be on the left side. You won’t be able to see entrance from the highway, so when you guys are walking make sure you stay to the left.”
“Where does the road lead?”
“My cabin. My family will recognize Sean, so make sure you keep him safe.”
“No, Mike, this is insane. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”
“If we don’t get Jenna somewhere where we can sterilize that wound she’s going to die of infection. The only place that I know of is my cabin, and the only way I can get her there right now is to find something to carry her with.”
“Be careful.”
Mike kept his hand on Billy’s shoulder and the four of them to
ok off down the road. He made sure to keep his eyes peeled for anything suspicious.
“How many people do you have at the farm?” Mike asked.
“Four,” Billy said.
“Who?”
“Me, my dad, my mom, and my younger brother.”
“Do they have any weapons, other than the rifle you had?”
“Yeah, my dad’s got a lot of guns. He’s a hunter. He takes tourists out on hunting trips for deer. Or he used to.”
“Great,” Tom said. “So we’re walking into a situation where we’re holding the son of a hunter and gun enthusiast hostage.”
“Will he be home when we get there?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know. He sent me to cover the east road while he went out hunting. He usually doesn’t come back till closer to sundown.”
“What about your mom and brother?”
“They’ll be home.”
“Can your mom shoot?” Tom asked.
“Yeah,” Billy answered.
“So much for catching a break,” Tom said.
It took them twenty minutes to reach the farm. The house sat in a clearing off the highway. An open pasture cut through the middle of the forest and cattle, horses, and other livestock roamed the fields grazing.
A large steel gate surrounded the property, fencing the cattle in. The gate creaked when Mike undid the lock and swung it open.
They kicked up dust from the dirt road as they walked closer to the house. Mike could see a barn in the back. Bells from the cattle dinged in the fields around them. Suddenly the front door of the house flew open and a woman wielding a shotgun marched onto the front porch.
“Let my son go or so help me God I will pump you full of lead,” Beth said.
Beth was a skinny woman. Her body looked far too frail for the 12-gauge she was holding, but the barrel of the gun stood rock steady.
Mike kept his grip on Billy’s shoulder, but made sure his gun wasn’t pointing anywhere near the boy.
“We don’t want any trouble, Ma’am,” Mike said.
“If you don’t want any trouble then why did you come onto my property, holding my son hostage, and armed to the teeth?”
“Your boy shot one of the people in our party. The girl he shot needs help. All we need is a cart to carry her and we’ll be on our way.”
