by Michael Joy
so that it was the back of the steel head that hit his chest like a hammer while the handle smashed into his cheek. A rock of the same heft would have stopped him as effectively. While he stared at me stunned by the impact I raced to the bike and pushed him backwards to the ground. A cheap automatic pistol hung out of one pocket, I grabbed that and then I pulled a bandolier of extra bullets from off his shoulder and then I was on the bike. His was a mixed blessing now with the extra speed I could move faster. Since my opponents knew the hills better than I did this would mean that I could also get into trouble at a higher rate of speed. I had been mistaken there was another rise here and the real peak was another fifty yards higher.
I headed the bike upwards aware that the other rider would likely reach his companion before I made it to cover. The sound of the engine came clearer as the rider arrived. Looking back I angled my ascent so that I could see my direction of travel by flicking my eyes forwards and then watching as he slowed to check on the other man. He dismounted and stooped to check that man's injuries rather than point his gun at me as I scooted up to where I was concealed by the rounded surface of this higher peak. I was over 200 yards above the road but as I looked back someone on the road fired at me. It was likely a rifle with a telescopic sight I rolled over the crest of the hill and unhooked the rifle leaving the bike on the ground.
Two could play at this. I was tired of being shot at. So far I had done my best not to kill anyone. As I peeked out to see what was happening I could see one of the Harley's coast up to the trail bike. I noted that the weapon I was carrying was a .270 I smiled this was a perfect weapon for a long range gun duel. Another bullet kicked up dirt about two feet in front of my eyes. I crawled backwards quickly. This shooter was a cowboy hat. There was actually a scope on top of this rifle as well, staring through it I centred the crosshairs on the large sign, near the road raised about a dozen feet above the ground. My shot punched into the wood almost a foot from where I had aimed. I had no time to mess with the scope.
There were two other motor cycles coming up the hill and now I could identify other shots coming from the gun men in both cars out on the road. I could hear the distinctive crack of AK-47 assault rifles. The men on the road could see me and continued to shoot until I moved backwards out of sight. So I was now out of sight from both the men who were close in and the ones on the road. I understand the concept of tactics, now I had to worry about someone flanking me. That or I could run, whether on foot or using the bike I would be in the shadow cast by the hill I was on, turning away from my pursuers, I lifted the bike off the ground and used it to start traveling.
Part of me had wanted to shoot, to wound or at least scare the men who were attempting to wound me. I realized that they did not yet respect me as an opponent, they would learn. They thought that I could give them information about a rival gang made up of humans who would have a leader they could threaten directly, possibly even a headquarters that they could raid and then operations that they might be able to take over. This was the kind of thinking which would periodically give rise to large scale gang violence in Miami where I normally live and work but also in other areas of the country.
They would not accept my statement that they were not dealing with humans. There would be no opportunity for them to threaten their opponent's homes and families. At least now I knew that the Sasquatch were in the hills around the restaurant, when I picked up the bike I had gotten a scent of one of their number who had crossed the area behind that hill in the last couple of days.
I could hear the two motorcycles approaching the hilltop, they were swinging wide to come at it from the sides. I shut off the bike and pulled the pistol from my waist band. It was in front angled for what western gun fighters had called a cross draw in the old days. The safety was crude and uneven. I had tried it twice and had made sure the weapon was cocked with a round in the chamber. One gunman came into view suddenly, he was braking as he got to where he thought he would see me at the back of the hill and he was bringing up a machine pistol.
I fired shooting him through the outer thigh, the bullet was a 9mm and it jolted him, he fell off balance the bike falling across his good leg. The machine pistol was pinned under the 600lb bike. He was game I'll give him that, lying on his side he cursed me and tried to pull out a revolver which was holstered to his leg. I was able to close the distance and pull the pistol loose, then I grabbed a couple of speed loaders off his belt. I could see that the rounds were .357 magnum now I was properly armed.
He swung a fist at me so I ducked my head and allowed him to smash his knuckles of the unyielding bone of my forehead. I trotted back to my bike and saw on the other side of the hill top, the other rider had come to a halt, seeing that the 9mm was in my hand I lifted the pistol and took a sight. I triggered four shots as quickly as I could, at least one of them hit, he over balanced and the bike took him downhill, a bruising fall possibly even broken bones, I got back on the bike and started to follow the scent trail left by the Sasquatch. Not knowing the area, I had to assume that it knew something of the topography in particular it would chose not to get too near a cliff that dropped onto jagged rock.
I see well in the dark and I have spent most of my life hunting under conditions which modern technology is only now opening up to other hunters. I considered twilight was likely less than 15 minutes away, but full dark could be well over an hour before I had that advantage. I had an excellent rifle, because the hillside that concealed me from my pursuers sloped down in this direction the scent trail was also dropping and I was making good time. The one thing I didn't like was that the trail was proceeding in almost a straight line. There was the possibility that the other gunmen would reach the hill top within the next minute then they would have sight lines into this area of hillside, I started to relax more once I got out over a hundred yards there was at least some low brush and a couple of taller saplings now, but my bike was the loudest moving thing on the mountain it took five seconds to travel almost forty yards further and I shut off the engine and pointed it downhill and stepped away.
I could hear shouted conversations to the rear as I began running, the essence was he went that way. I trotted onwards as I heard the bike bouncing downhill. I was wearing brown jacket and green pants, so I could blend somewhat into the landscape. I had recently eaten and acquired a good rifle and an adequate pistol. I would be happier with a bow and a knife or tomahawk in addition, but there were plenty of stones if I chose to throw a weapon. In the restaurant I had been prepared to throw a ketchup bottle, a glass ashtray and an old worn iron horse shoe which had been in my jacket pocket. I had lost that potential weapon going through the window.
Now my greatest fear was not the men behind me, I was concerned with the real back up that the two gangs might have sent to this meeting. The Sasquatch had told me that both groups had likely dispatched groups of shooters well in advance of the meeting who would be planning to use long range marksmanship and heavy calibre rifles noted for accuracy. Seeing as such weapons can shoot through a bullet proof vest or even light armour on a vehicle this would be the real threat. The Sasquatch had stated that they would deal with this first and only after that would they assist me in dealing with any others.
I had chosen to divert in the direction closer to the skin heads. This did not tell me which group would be able to reach a position where they would be able to fire at me. It was even possible that one or more had chosen to deploy at the top of the ridge that I was running parallel to, more likely they had chosen to be only slightly higher than the restaurant parking lot where they expected the confrontation to occur and likely within a couple of hundred yards of the restaurant. My assumption was based on the fact that a large number of organizations including the military recommend setting the sights of a rifle for a range of 200 yards. Therefore they would likely be there. Nothing about my reasoning would prevent an experienced marksman who was proud of his skills from setting up a hide that was further back. With equipment like a lase
r range finder and calculators to help establish the amount of drop after a bullet was fired, they stood a good chance of a hit at more extended range.
I had only heard the more powerful weapons held by the men on the road. The majority of the men on the hill top appeared to have carried either pistols or machine pistols. Suddenly I came on part of the puzzle. The scent trail of the Sasquatch crossed that of a man. The man had crossed the ridge at a slightly lower point than the other elevations and there was just a suggestion of a game trail at this point. The Sasquatch had moved away from the exact point where the man had crossed it looked as if he had used some low brush to one side and had then crossed. I did the same. I can move on all fours or even a belly crawl so after I got a man's height below the ridge I stood and trotted downwards. I was moving but it sounded as if the men hunting me were spreading out on the back side of the hill and were now getting concerned that they would not be able to see much in the gathering darkness. I moved more quickly on the trail with the remains of sunlight to guide me.
Shooters
