by Mark Goodwin
Once they got back to the foyer where they could hear one another, Charity said, “Did Higgins just tell everyone to buy more guns and form militias?”
Ava added, “And did Ross just basically rubber-stamp the suggestion? I mean, yeah—he sort of beat around the bush, but it sounded like he was cryptically telling us to heed Higgins’ advice.”
“If the campaign is telling people to gear up for civil war in the open, I wonder what they’re talking about behind closed doors?” James motioned for the girls to keep up with his hurried pace.
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good.” Ava followed James out the side door of the theater. Immediately she saw that the Austin Police Department had already pulled back and protestors from both sides were going at each other. Some were throwing bottles, some were in the middle of the street engaging in fist fights, and still others were clashing group to group, battling with sticks and homemade shields.
“We should cut up Lavaca to 3rd and go around. Second Street is a war zone.” James led the girls away from the commotion.
“I agree.” Ava sprinted alongside Charity to 3rd Street. “This doesn’t look any better.”
On each side of Lavaca Street, armed protestors stood yelling at each other. To the west of Lavaca, more than a hundred members of Antifa toted assault weapons and wore black load carrying vests over their standardized black hoodies. To the east, another armed group of roughly fifty people wore camouflage clothing, combat boots, and American flag bandanas over their mouths. The people to the east were also armed with AK-47 and AR-15 variants. An assortment of flags was present, but the one Ava noticed first was black with a white Roman numeral three. A circle of white stars encompassed the three I’s, which formed the number three.
“I don’t want to walk between these two groups.” Charity tugged at James’ hand.
“We have to,” Ava insisted. “There’s no other way. We’ll try 4th Street.”
“We need to move fast because they’re closing in on each other.” James pulled Charity and broke into a jog. “Come on!”
Ava could hear the two groups yelling at one another, but didn’t turn her head to look in either direction. She stayed focused on getting out of the line of fire. Her conditioned runner’s body moved her past the battle line much quicker than James and Charity, who were huffing by the time they caught up with her.
Ava turned and sprinted backward as she coached James and Charity. “Let’s keep going. Pace yourselves. Breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Two quick breaths in, two quick breaths out. We have a long way. We’ll have to cut all the way up 4th to San Antonio, then back down to the garage before Chavez Street gets cut off by the mob.”
The total run was eight city blocks. It was barely a warm-up for Ava, but James and Charity could not keep up with her pace. They eventually reached San Antonio.
“Only three more blocks. You guys are doing great, just keep going!” Ava turned backward again.
Charity held up a finger. Between gasps, she managed to say, “I need a one-minute break.”
“Okay, but keep stepping!” Ava motioned for them to move as quickly as possible while still maintaining a walking gait.
Ava counted off sixty seconds. “Break’s over. People are gathering around the garage. We need to run flat out for the last leg.”
Charity and James nodded and tried to keep up as Ava shot ahead.
Ava broke her stride when she reached the entrance of the garage, halfway between 2nd and Chavez on San Antonio Street. Social Justice Warriors were moving up the road in their direction. Ava waved for Charity and James to hurry. “Come on!”
The two stragglers ducked into the parking facility just as a group of SJWs paraded past. The mob carried flags, homemade shields, ball bats, clubs, broomsticks, and ax handles.
“Keep going, guys. It’s getting bad, and we need to leave.” Ava hustled up the ramp toward the second level.
James held Charity’s hand, and the two of them reached the first turn. “I don’t know how we’ll get out. The SJWs have the exit blocked.”
“Let’s get to the car, then worry about that. Maybe the mob will pass by.” Ava continued to the third level, coaxing her companions to keep up.
The group eventually made it to the fifth level where they’d parked. Ava walked to the side of the garage, which overlooked San Antonio Street. She saw one of the SJWs launch a glass bottle at the side of the building. It exploded into flames when it smashed against the wall. “The mob isn’t breaking up. In fact, more people are joining, and they are getting rowdier.”
Shots rang out in the distance.
“What was that?” Charity held James’ arm.
“Gunshots. I’m guessing they came from the stand-off at Lavaca. We need to get out of here. This whole area is a tinderbox.” Ava stood by the trunk of the car. “James, can you unlock the trunk so I can get my pistol?”
James retrieved his keys and clicked the remote. “Maybe they’ll get out of the way if we try to drive through.”
Charity looked out the side of the garage. “Chavez Street is wide open once we get past the train bridge.”
Ava pulled the 1911 out of her purse and tucked the simple holster in the front of her jeans. “No way. A car is a target. We have to walk out. My apartment is only two miles away. We’ll get there, and I can drive you guys to your respective homes. Charity, you can bring James back in the morning to get his car.”
James and Charity stood looking at each other in silence.
Charity finally turned to Ava. “They’ve got Molotov cocktails. Antifa already burnt my car. I don’t want to lose James’ vehicle, too.”
“If you try to drive through, the car will definitely get damaged. And we might not live through it. We can’t camp out here all night. If they come all the way up to the fifth tier to burn cars, we’ll be targets.”
James looked at Charity. “Don’t you think we can hold them? We take a stand at the top of the fourth level. We’ll find cover and warn them not to come higher.”
Ava shook her head. “That might work with SJWs armed with sticks and stones, but Antifa has AK-47s. A shotgun and a couple of pistols are no match against a legion of battle rifles.”
“She’s right.” Charity looked frightened.
“What do you suggest?” James asked.
“We’ll try to get across the 1st Street Bridge. Once we’re on the other side of the river, things should calm down dramatically. Both of you, tuck your pistols in the front of your pants. Make sure they’re ready to fire. Do you have extra ammo?”
“No, but we’ve got the shotgun.” Charity retrieved the two pistols from the glove compartment, handing one to James.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The governor will send in the state police soon.”
“You can open carry in Texas as long as you have a carry license.” James tucked his pistol into his front pocket, then picked up the shotgun from the trunk.
Ava nodded with a smirk. “I’m sure you can tell that to the judge, and he’ll drop the charges. You’ll be free to go first thing Monday morning. But you’ll still spend the weekend in lockup. You’ll be separated from us and surrounded by Antifa thugs who got locked up with you. Do you want to take your chances with that scenario?”
James placed the shotgun back in the car and slammed the trunk. “No.”
“Let’s move!” Ava started down the ramp with James and Charity right behind her. Ava had traveled the route on her morning run hundreds of times, but this time was different. This time, she’d be running for her life.
CHAPTER 19
But mine eyes are unto thee, O God the Lord: in thee is my trust; leave not my soul destitute. Keep me from the snares which they have laid for me, and the gins of the workers of iniquity. Let the wicked fall into their own nets, whilst that I withal escape.
Psalm 141:8-10
Ava paused to assess the situation from the second floor of the parking garage before cont
inuing to the ground level. “Traffic is cut off from the 1st Street Bridge. Rioters are blocking both lanes. We’ll have to go west to the pedestrian bridge.”
“Don’t you think protestors will be flooding in from the pedestrian bridge if people are coming down Chavez from that direction?” James craned his neck to look west.
“You’re probably right. We’ll just have to go all the way to the Lamar Bridge then.” Ava also looked west.
“That’s another mile, easy. Considering we have to backtrack to your apartment, that’s an extra two miles for the trip.” Charity joined the other two in looking toward the pedestrian bridge which crossed the Colorado River. “We’re not runners like you, Ava.”
Ava needed no further clarification on that matter. “We only have to run to get away from the crowd. Once we’re on the other side, we can walk, rest, even try to catch an Uber.”
“Ubers won’t be running once drivers figure out all this is going on.” James pushed away from the edge to follow Ava, who was already heading to the first level.
“Make sure you can get to your gun fast. If one of us draws, we all draw. A unified show of force is our best chance of getting home alive.” Ava slowed down before walking out onto the street. “Ready?”
“No! Wait! What do we do if we draw our guns?” Charity’s voice quivered.
“Hopefully, they back down. But remember what they taught us in class. If you pull a gun, be ready to shoot the person you pull it on.”
“It’s going to be okay, but Ava is right. You have to be ready to shoot someone if they’re threatening us.” James looked Charity in the eyes.
“And remember, aim for the center of mass.” Ava peered around the corner to find the best route for their run.
“I don’t know. Why can’t we just shoot them in the leg or something?” Charity was still negotiating.
Ava turned to her once more. “Shooting to injure could potentially make your attacker more dangerous. If you shoot, you shoot to kill. Besides, I saw you shoot in the class. I don’t think you could hit anyone in the leg. Not to be mean, I probably couldn’t either. But at close range, I can hit the center of mass and so can you.”
“We shouldn’t have come.” Charity stood behind James.
He lined up close behind Ava. “But we’re here. Now it’s time to go. Ava, we’re right behind you.”
“Great. I’ll pick a path between the SJWs. If someone grabs me, shoot them. Especially if it’s more than one person. Don’t wait until I’m getting my head kicked in and end up paralyzed for the rest of my life. I’ll do the same for you guys.” Ava looked back one last time. “Ready?”
“We’re ready.” James answered for both of them.
“Go!” Ava sprinted south on San Antonio Street, then led them west on Chavez Street, directly into the oncoming crowd.
She slowed down, trying to get through the ocean of mindless SJWs marching like zombies toward downtown Austin. Ava reached behind her and grabbed Charity’s hand. “We should get down to the bike path by the river. We’ll never get through all these people.”
Charity nodded, staying between Ava and James.
Ava found it nearly impossible to cut across the mob to get to the bike path. Instead, she had to lead her friends back toward the parking garage and gradually work toward the river on a diagonal course. Once they got into the grass, the mob thinned, and they were able to get over to the bike trail.
On the bike trail, they encountered waves of less-motivated protestors who were drinking, smoking pot, or simply loitering and talking smack. They made it to the train bridge without incident and with relative ease. The trek so far had taken less than a half an hour. “Floods of people are coming off the pedestrian bridge and right onto the bike trail. We should cut over to Lamar and then get on the bridge.”
“You’ve got us this far.” James’ voice reflected his boost in confidence at getting past the majority of the protestors.
“Yeah, great work, Ava. I think we’re through the worst of it.” Charity smiled for the first time since they’d left the theater.
“Let’s not celebrate yet.” Ava led them across the grass and back to Chavez Street, where they crossed and climbed the embankment that led up to the footpath for the Lamar Street Bridge.
Southbound cars were backing up on the bridge and attempting to find another way across the river. Ava looked to the opposite side of the bridge to see black and red flags flying over a group of people in black hoodies with red bandanas. “Antifa.”
“What do we do?” Charity asked.
Ava turned to look at her friends. “I don’t know. The next bridge up is the expressway, and it doesn’t have a footpath. We either cross here or we cut back up to 4th and backtrack all the way to Congress. Which there’s no guarantee that we can get across Congress. If not, we’ll have to go to the Pleasant Valley Bridge. Now you’re talking an extra eight miles.”
“I just want to go home!” Charity turned to James.
James’ forehead puckered. “Do you think we can walk by them without trouble?”
Ava watched the oncoming mob. “Looks like about twenty. I don’t see any long guns. We can try. Keep your heads down, and don’t look at them unless they try to bother us.”
“We’ll follow your lead.” James pulled Charity close.
Ava began a brisk walk on the footpath. The Antifa rabble was in the middle of the road to intentionally block traffic and not utilizing the footpath. She could hear their chant as they got closer.
“No Ross, no hate, no United States! No Ross, no hate, no United States! No Ross, no hate, no United States!”
As they got closer, the chant grew louder.
Ava turned to her friends. “Let’s run flat out from here until we get past these idiots.” Ava started a slow sprint and looked to make sure James and Charity were keeping up.
When she was roughly forty yards out from the mob, three of the members jumped onto the footpath.
Ava slowed and drew her pistol. “Guys, get your guns out.”
Ava continued walking toward the thugs and raised her pistol in their direction. “Get off the footpath. You have plenty of room on the road. We don’t want any trouble from you and you certainly don’t want any from us.”
“Whoa!” One guy put his hand up. “We thought you guys must be with the resistance and got turned around somehow. We’re just trying to help. The party is that way.” The guy pointed to the other side, behind Ava.
She didn’t engage with the hooligan’s antics. “I said get out of my way.”
One of the three advanced toward her. “You’re not a cop. You can’t shoot me!” He slowed his pace but continued moving in her direction.
Ava backed up to Charity and James who also had their weapons drawn.
Soon, several other members of the group started circling in on them. Ava felt as if she were being encircled by a pack of ravenous wild dogs; mangy creatures with yellow teeth and eyes full of venom. Despite the Antifa chant, it was they whose hearts were so full of hate that they no longer saw their adversaries as fully human.
Four others closed in from the opposite side blocking Ava’s group from the north.
One of the new aggressors taunted James. “That’s probably an airsoft gun. That ain’t even real.”
“Only one way to find out,” James replied holding the pistol steady at the other four assailants.
“Look at this one!” Another decided to pick on Charity. “She’s shaking like a leaf. She ain’t gonna shoot nobody.” He got close to Charity, pointing his finger at the barrel of her gun.
“Leave her alone!” Ava turned toward him and shouted.
The three on the south side of the path advanced toward Ava when she turned to address Charity’s persecutor.
“Back it up!” she screamed, wielding the gun back toward their direction.
They did not, but rather held their positions firm.
Charity screamed. Ava turned to see the one who’d been bul
lying her had grabbed Charity’s pistol and was trying to wrestle it out of her hand.
James shot two rounds into the air with his revolver, which moved the four ruffians on the south side of the footpath back a few feet but failed to deter the man trying to pry Charity’s gun away from her. James had two less bullets yet the same number of aggressors still surrounded the group.
Ava lined up the sights of her pistol with the chest of Charity’s assailant and squeezed the trigger. POW! The heavy gun jumped up and the man flung back into the street. Blood splattered the road behind the man. He writhed in anguish, lying in a growing pool of blood.
Ava turned to see one of the hooligans from her side of the path lunge at her, so she shot again. The bullet struck him in the stomach, and he fell to the ground, screaming in agony.
“Charity, get your gun! James, hold your fire unless you’re shooting somebody!”
A big guy holding a wooden ball bat pointed it at Ava. “You just shot these people! They didn’t touch you! You’re not leaving. I’m calling the cops.”
“Then you’ll be face down in a puddle of blood, just like your friends.” Ava pointed her gun at the man.
Most of the Antifa mob was giving her space. A couple stayed close. “We can’t let you go,” another said.
“Then I’ll kill you.” Ava didn’t flinch. She lined up her sights on the man who instantly began backing away.
Ava swept the bridge with the barrel of the 1911. She looked at James who still had his gun pointed at the aggressors behind him. She yelled out as loud as she could. “Get your girlfriend and let’s go. If any of them try to follow you, put them down!”
Charity held her gun in her hand, but she was shaking and crying uncontrollably.
Ava pointed the gun at the members of the mob who were closest to her. “If you don’t want to die, back it up!”
They complied. The other two who had been blocking the footpath moved over onto the roadway.
Ava looked at the first man she’d shot. He’d stopped moving and lay motionless in his own blood. She noticed the brass from her bullets on the ground near her feet. She bent down and picked up the spent casings, placing them in her pocket.
