Mistaking Jacob’s curiosity with the new weapon as an inspection, the nurse said, “It’s fine; nobody messed with it.”
Jacob thanked her and walked toward the stairs, spotting families hiding in the shadows of the loft as he passed them. He turned into the opening and clanged down the metal treads to the factory floor.
The lower level was dark with all the lights off, and rounds continued to ping off the outer walls. Jacob was able to spot Murphy and Stephens pressed against the door they’d entered earlier. Johnny, along with some of his own men, was crowded around them while Murphy was trying to convince Johnny to move his people away—and losing the argument. Murphy turned his head, catching the movement of Jacob’s approach.
“What are you doing down here?” Murphy asked. “You’re going to bust yourself open and start bleeding again.”
Jacob stepped closer to the group, holding the rifle awkwardly in his hands. “You need everyone,” Jacob said just above a whisper, the fear showing in his voice as the sounds of battle echoed just beyond the walls.
“You even know how to use that?” Murphy asked, reaching out and snatching the rifle from Jacob’s hands. He dropped the magazine then reseated it. He instructed Jacob, giving a quick rundown of the rifle’s parts and functions. He pulled back the charging handle and chambered a round before turning the rifle so that Jacob could see the selector switch. “This is safe, that’s semi… don’t even fuck with the other one.” Then he pushed the rifle back into Jacob’s hand.
“Stay here with them; we’re going outside to see what’s going on. If we break out, we’ll come back for you and the others,” Murphy ordered.
Jacob shook his head. “No, I’m sticking with you.”
Stephens turned and faced Murphy. “Come on, Sergeant; he’s just going to slow us down,” Jacob overheard him whisper.
Murphy looked at Jacob waiting eagerly as rounds stitched the top of the building and a loud explosion rattled the steel sides. Murphy dropped his head, rubbed his temple with his gloved hand, and then forced a grin. “Fine, get your ass behind Stephens and don’t miss.” Murphy turned to Johnny. “Take care of your people. If I can get contact with my command, we’ll send someone back for you.”
Johnny nodded, reaching toward the door’s handle. “Good luck out there,” he said, slapping Murphy on the back as the door swung open. Murphy looked back over his shoulder and cut out into the night with Stephens following close. Jacob lurched forward and hesitated in the doorway. He felt a nudge from behind as he was shoved outside, and the door closed behind him.
Murphy and Stephens were running, crouched between the patrol car and the building. Jacob came to his senses and took off after them, sprinting as more gunfire erupted from close by. Murphy rounded the far side of the car, dropped to a prone position, and crawled to the rear bumper. Stephens squatted, keeping the engine block between himself and the sounds of battle. Jacob ran and dropped in next to him.
He looked out at the field across the street. It was dark, and he couldn’t make out any figures—only the muzzles of weapons spitting flame as they fired. Tracers cut back and forth across the field and occasional rounds flew over Jacob’s head, smacking into the steel-clad building behind him. Jacob looked to his left and saw Stephens hovered over his rifle with his night vision down. Murphy scooted back away from the tire and rejoined them around the hood.
“Looks like a patrol made contact,” Murphy whispered, “They’re taking some heavy fire from the tree line. I think if we target them from here, it’ll loosen up their flank.”
“You sure, Sergeant? They don’t even know we’re up here. What if our guys fire on us?” Stephens protested, not looking up from his rifle.
Jacob looked around. He was still blind in the dark but could hear the sustained battle coming from across the street. “What are you two talking about?”
Murphy grinned. “There’s a unit in the field over there. Someone… something has them pinned; we’re gonna suppress so they can maneuver.”
Jacob scowled. “Just tell me what to do.”
“That’s the spirit. Let’s go; we need to get distance on this building. We don’t want to draw attention to it.”
Chapter Twelve
Jacob sat anxiously behind the wheel of the patrol car. He had the vehicle in neutral as the soldiers pushed it out of the factory’s parking lot and into the street. The car slowly rolled back, entered the decline, and picked up speed. The two soldiers jogged to keep up. Jacob maneuvered the car backwards and into the street. He overcut the wheel, causing the car to turn too far and smack into the curb, one tire screeching against it as the steel rim scrubbed the concrete.
Murphy ran up alongside the driver’s window. “Okay; when I give the word, start the car and hit the field with your high beams.”
Jacob looked through the windshield to the field in front of him where he could still see the muzzle flashes and the tracer fire crisscrossing the dark sky like laser beams.
“How will they know we are the good guys?” Jacob asked nervously.
“Don’t worry. Soon as I drain a mag into those black-eyed monsters, they’ll know who we’re siding up with,” Stephens said, moving close to the car and leaning his rifle over its roof.
“Do it,” Murphy ordered, speaking louder.
Jacob felt the key in the ignition and turned on the engine; it quickly roared to life.
“Hit the lights!” Murphy
