by Hunt, James
But despite the moniker, Lester Percy had never killed anyone in his entire life. He had beaten guys to a pulp, but he never murdered anyone. But still, that word was passed down to him like his last name. Because it was Lester’s father who was a killer.
Buford Percy’s actions had ruined the lives of two families the day he decided to get behind the wheel after downing a bottle of Jack Daniels at the bar. And while Buford walked away from the collision with nothing more than cuts and bruises, he had killed Marilyn and Christopher Riker, Ben’s parents.
It had been a simple chance encounter that Ben’s parents had been driving on the same road as Buford Percy the night he decided to get blackout drunk, which was almost every night. But all it took was one swerve and boom!
Two families were never the same again.
Both of Ben’s parents were killed instantly upon impact. Buford Percy was thrown from his vehicle but survived with nothing more than scrapes and bruises from the ejection. The trial that followed painted Buford as the local drunk and criminal he was, and he was convicted on two accounts of first-degree manslaughter and currently served two life sentences in federal prison.
Lester hadn’t spoken to his father in years, but he knew the old bastard was still alive because he hadn’t gotten notified otherwise.
But aside from the shitstorm Buford’s trial brought down upon their family and the abusive years that led up to it for Lester and Donny, Lester had learned one important lesson from his father that he still remembered to this day. No one else on this earth would give two shits about you. But the people you should always be able to count on was family. Because if people knew that if you messed with one Percy, then they understood that you had to deal with the entire family.
Lester took that lesson to heart. He wanted to make sure everyone knew that if you messed with Donny, Jane, or Gray, that you’d have to bear the consequences of the entire Percy clan’s merciless fury.
It had taken a lot of years for Lester to dig their family out of the hole Buford’s trial had buried them in, but he did it. And he owed much of it to Jane.
Lester trusted Jane more than anyone else in this world. She was smart, strong, and fierce. Together, they had built a business and were finally starting to make money. The deal with the gun runners was supposed to bring in more cash this year than they had seen in the past three. It was supposed to be for a new beginning.
And while Jane thought they could still take advantage of the situation, Lester wasn’t so sure. The world had changed.
Two figures were creeping toward the house, and Lester immediately brought the first one into his sight. Crosshairs over his target, Lester squeezed the trigger.
It was only one gunshot, but it seemed to have set off a chain reaction in the woods that would have suggested an entire army had descended upon the house.
Lester adjusted the aim of his rifle to search for the others, but the longer he listened to the gunshots, the more he realized that they were also coming from the front of the building near Donny’s position.
They were surrounded.
Despite the darkness, it didn’t take long for terrorists to locate Lester on the balcony, and gunfire forced Lester back from the edge as he waited for a lull.
When the gunfire stopped, Lester crawled back toward the edge and then peered through the scope. He still had one gunman out there who was sneaking about, but the other terrorist was sprinting toward the house.
“Shit.” Lester steadied his aim, tracking the gunmen on his sprint through the woods. When he thought he had a shot, he pulled the trigger, but his bullet missed.
Lester lined up another shot and fired once more, missing again.
The gunman was moving closer to the house. Lester knew the backdoor was close to the kitchen, where Ben was operating on his son. He needed to kill the man before he made it inside.
With only enough time and distance left for one last shot. Lester’s body tensed, and he pulled the trigger, cursing as the bullet hit the dirt.
“Guys!” Lester yelled, jumping up from his position. “You’ve got company!”
LIZ REMAINED CLOSE TO BEN, giving him the tools he needed as he tried to stitch the wound on Gray’s neck. The wound wasn’t spurting as much, but Liz wasn’t sure if that was because Ben’s efforts were working or if Gray was simply running low on blood.
When the gunfire started, Liz’s thoughts drifted to her boys in the room with Susan. She took one step toward them, but then stopped, realizing Ben still needed her help.
Ben fumbled his fingers along Gray’s neck, doing his best to seal the wound while also stopping the bleeding. “I need more gauze.”
Liz reached for the spare roll and then used it to wipe the smear of blood from the patchwork he was currently working. She attempted to hand it to Ben, but another round of gunfire caused her to drop it, and she cursed as she had to tear off a new piece.
“Liz, I need it now!” Ben said.
“Okay!” Liz quickly handed Ben the fresh gauze, and then stepped back, taking in the scene.
Blood covered the kitchen table where Liz and her family had eaten many meals, and it had spread to the edges and dripped off the sides where it had puddled on the floor. A trail of it stretched from the front door to the table and seeing all of this combined with the gunshots outside made her feel like the world was falling apart.
It was like the gates of hell had opened and targeted their small slice of heaven. Deep down, Liz had a feeling this day would come. After so many years of having a good life, she knew there was bound to be a course correction. And that day had finally come.
“Guys!” Lester’s voice shouted from upstairs. “You’ve got company!”
Liz barely had time to react as a bullet shattered the rear windows and the glass of the French doors that led out into the backyard. She ducked behind Ben, who shielded her with his body as the pair dropped low to avoid being shot.
“Do you have your pistol?” Ben shouted, his voice rising above the ringing of her ears.
Liz nodded.
“You need to cover me while I finish with Gray,” Ben said. “I’m almost done, but if I can’t seal him up, then he’s a goner.”
Liz reached for her pistol and then nodded, steeling herself as she prepared to face the threat in her backyard. But before she could stand to shoot, the sound of another gunshot from very close inside the house surprised her.
Both Ben and Liz emerged from the table and saw Jane Percy with her rifle in the firing position as she moved toward the shattered French doors where she paused to turn and look back at them. “Keep looking after my boy! I’ll hold them off!”
Ben returned his hands to Percy’s neck but paused when he saw Gray Percy had his eyes closed. Ben quickly checked for a breath and a pulse, finding both.
“He’s alive, but he’s fading,” Ben said, returning to work. “I don’t know how much longer—”
The front windows exploded with gunfire, glass shattering as another gunman approached the front. Liz wielded her weapon, knowing that if the enemy got inside, then her children would be at risk.
Liz fired her pistol on the run, pushing the gunman into retreat. She knew leaving Ben alone with Percy would make the work more difficult, but their family would take priority over the Percys’. Still, right now, they were all fighting for the same thing: survival.
Liz’s eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, so she was able to see the shadowed figures crouched along her driveway.
Using the wall beneath the window as the bulk of her cover, Liz cleared out the broken glass so she wouldn’t cut her arms and then fired into the night. Three quick pulls of the trigger ejected the hot shells to the floor that rolled against her shoes before she had to duck back behind cover as the enemy returned fire.
Waiting for her chance to return fire, Liz watched as Jane continued her assault from the back door, keeping the wolves at bay. She saw Ben continuing to work on Gray. She heard the gunfire from upstairs
where Donny and Percy were shooting from their vantage points.
Despite the malice they all shared, they were all working together. It proved to Liz that no matter your relationship with someone, no matter how much they hurt you, when people needed to rely on you for their survival, they could put aside their differences with the snap of a finger.
A lull in the gunfire, Liz repositioned herself by the window, exposing herself to the gunman on the drive, but a bullet brought him down before he could react, and he skidded to the concrete. It had been Donny who had shot him and inadvertently saved her life.
Liz broke from the paralysis of the moment and fired at the remaining shadows in the night before she ducked low to keep safe from retaliatory fire.
And so it went for a while, Liz shooting, ducking, waiting, shooting, ducking, waiting. She spent her first magazine and then reloaded, then another until she reached her last magazine.
Fifteen shots were all she had left.
“I’m almost out!” Jane shouted from the back of the house. “The bastards just keep coming!”
Liz knew if they couldn’t hold them here, then it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. The enemy outside had superior weapons, more ammunition, and the luxury of taking their time.
Or so Liz thought.
An orange glow lightened the darkness in the distance. Liz wasn’t sure what it was at first, but as she watched the enemy disappear down the road and the shooting stopped, she understood. The fires were here.
15
T he gunfire had made it difficult for Ben to concentrate on stitching Gray’s neck. Even under normal circumstances, the job would have been hard, but trying to sew the kid up in the middle of a warzone was beyond his skill as a firefighter and paramedic.
Ben knew the only reason Gray was still alive was not because of his efforts but because the bullet had only nicked the kid’s neck. If it had done any more damage, Gray would have bled out before he had even made it to the house.
Screams and bullets filled the inside of the house, but Ben maintained a steady hand as he sewed up the wound.
“I’m almost out of bullets!” Jane shouted.
Ben finished the stitches and confirmed the bleeding had stopped. Gray was still alive, and Ben reached for the rifle to help Liz, but Jane intercepted him from the back door.
“They took off,” Jane said, shouting because her ears were ringing from the gunfire. “Just disappeared.”
The entire house had fallen silent from gunfire, but before Ben was able to breathe a sigh of relief, Liz appeared at his side.
“The fire’s coming,” Liz said, catching her breath.
“Fire?” Jane asked. “That was miles away. How could it be here?”
“We haven’t had rain in months,” Ben answered. “The whole mountainside is a tinder box right now, and the fire is only going to move faster the more fuel it burns.”
Ben took a step away from Gray, but Jane grabbed his arm and squeezed tight.
“What about my boy?” Jane asked.
“I’ve done what I can,” Ben answered. “The bleeding’s stopped, and he’s still breathing. We need to move.”
Jane released Ben. “And where the hell are we supposed to go?”
Ben was reluctant to tell Jane about their plans about the fire training station. The last thing he wanted was to have the Percys bunked next to them. But they had proven useful in the fight to defend the house, even if it was for personal gain. And Ben knew there would be more fights to come in the near future.
“We need to cross the river,” Ben said. “We’ll be safe from the fires there.”
“And how the hell are we supposed to get Gray across the river?” Jane asked.
“Figure it out,” Ben answered.
The heat of the moment caused Ben’s tone to be harsher than he intended, but the message was received and understood as Danny and Lester came down the stairs.
“We need to go,” Jane said. “We grab the boy and get to the river.”
Lester hurried toward Gray and carefully lifted him into his arms.
“Careful with his neck,” Ben said. “If the stitches break, then he’ll start bleeding again. You’ll have to be careful in the water, too, because they can’t get wet—”
“We can take care of our own,” Jane said, spitting the same loveless tone he had used on her. “You worry about your family.”
Jane brushed past Ben and joined Lester and Donny by the kitchen table. Ben decided to let it go, knowing he had other issues to deal with at the moment, and the only thing that really mattered now was getting his family to safety.
“Get the boys,” Ben said, turning toward Liz. “I’ll get the gear.”
“We never got to finish packing,” Liz said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ben replied. “We’ll take what we have. Go.”
Ben pushed Liz toward the boys, and he veered toward the garage as the orange hue of the fires brightened the front of the house. They were running out of time.
Ben sprinted into the garage and, forgetting Nancy was in there, tripped over the gurney she had been making and nearly crashed to the floor.
“I’m almost done!” Nancy yelled, quickly pulling the gurney back into her lap.
“Nancy, you need to get your mom,” Ben said, collecting the bags everyone had put together in his arms. “We need to leave now.”
Nancy continued to tie the knots quickly. “Almost… Okay! I’m done.” She quickly stood and then picked up the gurney, showing it to Ben. “Is this all right?”
Ben was busy gathering the items they needed to leave, but he glanced at the gurney. Ben hadn’t expected the girl to do very much, but Ben was surprised to find Nancy had done a fine job.
“It’s good,” Ben said. “But we have to go now.”
Ben was out of the garage, and Nancy was quick to follow as she hurried toward the bedroom where her dad was resting.
Liz returned with Susan and the boys, and Ben quickly put backpacks on everyone as the fires drew near.
“We’ll go out the back,” Ben answered. “It’s the fastest route to the river.”
Liz stepped around the boys and lowered her voice so they couldn’t hear her. “They won’t be able to make it over that kind of terrain.”
“I’ll carry Connor,” Ben said. “You take Tommy.”
“But what about Harry?” Liz asked. “I don’t think Nancy and—”
Ben silenced his wife with a glance. She nodded in understanding.
“Right.” Liz turned around and made sure the boys were ready, then looked to Susan. “We’ll need to move quickly.”
Susan’s breathing was slightly labored, and Ben wasn’t sure if that was out of excitement, nerves, or the baby coming. “I’ll make it. I mean, I have to, right?” She laughed nervously, and Liz gently touched her cheek.
“You’ll make it,” Liz said.
The Percys were already gone, so Ben walked to the spare room where Harry was being kept and found Nancy and Margaret struggling to get Harry on the gurney.
“You have to lift him, Mom,” Nancy said, her arms hooked beneath her father’s arms, buckling under his weight.
“I’m trying,” Margaret struggled with the legs, but eventually, the pair moved Harry.
“We need to go,” Ben said. “We’re heading out the back. It’s a straight shot to the river.”
“Yeah, we’ll be ready in a sec,” Nancy said, making sure her father fit on the gurney.
“We’re leaving now,” Ben said, then waited a moment for the words to register on their faces. “We’re out of time.”
It was Margaret who provided the expression Ben expected to see a lot moving forward. It was one of indignation, accusation, and fear. “You’re going to leave us!” Margaret shouted. “Just leave us to die! You’re not even going to try to help us!”
Ben knew there wasn’t anything he could say to make the situation better. It was up to her to fix it now. “I’ve done wh
at I can. Good luck.”
Ben returned to his family in the living room where everyone waited, all of them staring out the front of the window where the fires turning the forests to ash had replaced the glow of the flames. Ben handed Liz his fire jacket, which she used to cover Tommy and carried him.
“Let’s go, guys, now!” Ben scooped Connor into his arms, and Susan followed all of them out the back door and into the woods, never stopping to look back at the home they had built because Ben had everything in his arms he’d ever need.
THE MOMENT MR. RIKER was gone, Nancy positioned herself at the head of her father’s gurney, who they had finally managed to load. She gripped the poles, hoping they would hold her father’s weight.
“Mom, you need to grab the other end,” Nancy said.
But Margaret Simmons was not herself. She hadn’t been herself for quite some time. Nancy noticed the shift in her the moment her father got shot. Something had broken inside Margaret Simmons.
“They just left us,” Margaret said, the glow of the flames reaching into the back bedroom, the orange-reddish hue providing an eerie atmosphere. “How could they do that!”
“Mom!” Nancy screamed, catching her mother’s attention. “Grab the other end! We have to go. Now!”
Harry groaned something, and while Nancy didn’t understand what he said, she took it a good sign that he was talking. It meant he was alive.
Margaret walked to the other end of the gurney but only stared down at the poles. She held her hands, twisting her fingers in front of her stomach. She shook her head and took a step back. “I can’t do this.”
“Mom, stop wasting time—”
“I said, I can’t do this!” Margaret raked her fingers through her hair as she bent forward.
Nancy had seen her mother angry before, she had seen her drunk and spiteful, she had seen her crying and upset, but she had never seen this.
“What are you talking about?” Nancy’s voice cracked. “We have to help Dad! I can’t do this on my own. Mom, please.”
Margaret Simmons stared at her husband, shaking her head as she stepped away. “I’m sorry, Harry. But I just… I can’t.” Tears in her eyes, she offered one last look to her husband and then to Nancy before she left the room.
