Howard's central vision was still fogged, but he turned his head to the
left and caught a peripheral movement.
They had shot at him, therefore they were bad guys. He hesitated for
maybe a quarter second, then lined the revolver up on the movement and
squeezed the trigger. He remembered to close his eyes as the shot went
off, to save what vision he had left, and then he rolled to his left as
fast as he could, three complete revolutions.
Somebody screamed, and somebody returned fire. The dragon's tongue
muzzle blast lit the scene just enough for Howard to see there were two
men standing next to a hole clipped through the fence, a third man
lying on the ground. A bullet spanged off the road where he had been
and the ricochet whined off into the trees.
Howard scraped his elbows on the road as he swung the revolver sideways
and pointed it where he'd seen the flash-'Move,' a man said, insistent,
but not panicky.
Whoever he is, he's a lot calmer than I am-The scream of brakes forced
Howard to glance away from his target zone just as he cranked off two
more shots.
He rolled again, and saw the Explorer's headlights flash on as the SUV
did a rubber-burning one-eighty.
The driver was going to put some light on the subject, and that was
bad-An answering pair of shots spewed more orange, and two more bullets
hit the road inches away. If he hadn't rolled, he'd have eaten both of
them, and even so, the shooter had almost anticipated enough to hit
him.
Howard leaped up. He had to get off the road before-Too late. The
SUV's headlights found him. He took three steps then dived for the
side of the road, hit in a sloppy shoulder roll, came up, and ran for
the trees. More gunshots reached for him, but missed. The roar of the
SUV's engine increased as it headed back in his direction.
The driver angled the vehicle, trying to find him with the light.
Howard slipped on something, fell, and rolled, ending up on his back,
feet facing the oncoming Explorer. He pulled his feet toward his butt,
propped the revolver on top of his left knee, got a nice clear sight
picture outlined against the oncoming headlights. He aimed at the
windshield on the driver's side. The SUV was fifty meters away and
closing. He pulled the trigger, one, two, three, four-The gun stopped
shooting after three times, clicked empty, but the SUV slewed off the
road and angled into the fence, bowing a big section before it took out
a post and stopped.
His piece was empty, and there was still too much reflected light out
here; he felt like a bug under a microscope.
He scrabbled up and into the trees, managed to run into one with his
right shoulder and spin himself around, but at least he was hidden. He
dropped to the ground on his butt, thumbed the cylinder latch, shoved
the cylinder out with his left hand, hammered the extractor rod with
the palm. Empty shells flew. He grabbed a speed strip and started to
reload. One, two, three-The SUV's motor raced, and there came the
sound of metal tearing. The motor roared louder, the tires screamed-He
