Boom! He was careful to lead the runner by just enough, and the bullet struck him square in the chest. The impact lifted the moonshiner off his feet for a split second and spun the body backward in an awkward flip. He came down hard on his face, and his body crumpled around him, lifeless and still.
Crack…crack! While he chambered another round, Ben glanced over and caught the last flash from Joel’s muzzle. He strained his eyes, trying to find what Joel had been shooting at, but failed to see anything. He continued searching while he thought about the fact that he was down to his last three rounds. After that, they’d be left with twelve rounds in an unfamiliar pistol and whatever Joel had left in his AR, at least until he could scavenge something off one of the dead moonshiners.
Ben heard Joel shoot again, this time a single shot. He still couldn’t see what he was firing at, and it made him anxious. Whatever it was must have been in one of Ben’s blind spots.
Crack! And whatever it was, Joel was still shooting at it. From his position, Joel could see down the main passageway that led to the front gate of the compound. It was also along the trail Ben imagined they used to drive the confiscated vehicles to the back of the enclosure. But from where Ben was located, most of that view was blocked by container houses. He was parallel to the main trail in, and his view was limited to what he could see through the spaces between the containers and the lane leading from the still, or what was left of it.
He’d positioned himself on the trail to the still because he thought the moonshiners would focus their attention there, but it seemed that most of the action was in Joel’s area. Maybe he should have hunkered down with Joel behind the tires, after all. But there was no point in second-guessing his decisions. He needed to stay focused and keep his son covered. To make matters worse, he knew Joel was running low on ammunition as well.
Chapter Ten
Ben searched the gaps to see if he could pick up on any movement and maybe figure out what Joel was shooting at, but he saw nothing. He blinked and pulled away from the scope for a moment before putting his eye back up to the lens. Ben thought that his lack of sleep and proper nourishment was playing tricks on his mind, but there was no mistaking the increasing amount of light coming from somewhere over by the compound’s entrance.
Seconds later, the light was accompanied by the sound of a vehicle. It was one of the pickups that had carried them to the camp that morning. Sporadic flashes of light bounced around the forest as the truck bounded wildly along the trail leading into the camp and headed straight for Joel’s position. They were going to try and take his son out with the truck. That was what Joel had been shooting at repeatedly and using up his ammunition on. Even in ideal conditions and with plenty of light, that was a tough shot with iron sights and an unfamiliar rifle.
Ben had to do something fast. The poor kid was probably in full-blown panic mode right about now. And who wouldn’t be with a truck bearing down on them and a shortage of ammunition at their disposal?
Ben quickly picked the truck up in his scope and began to calculate the shot. His best chance would be when the truck crossed the large opening that intersected the trail he was positioned on, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take a shot or two before the truck reached that point. After it crossed the intersection, there wouldn’t be enough time to get another shot off before it reached Joel. He had three chances to take the driver out, and he needed to take them now. The first shot would probably miss, but he could at least learn if his lead at this range was accurate. He squeezed off the shot and worked the bolt without looking away from the target. Ben could see a cracked and busted-out driver’s side window that had been intact before the shot, but the truck was still going strong and maneuvering on the trail well enough to reach Joel.
He followed the same shooting method for the second shot, and this time the truck reacted almost immediately by swerving off the trail and running headfirst into a large tree. From his position, Ben could hear the smashing glass and crumpling metal. He kept his scope trained on the wreckage while he cycled his last round up into the action from the now-empty box magazine.
Fighting the urge to run for his son, Ben stayed put and watched for a while. The driver was slumped over the wheel, and if neither one of the shots had killed him, the head-on collision with the tree should have. But he didn’t see the passenger. Then, to Ben’s surprise, the door on the far side of the truck flew open and a man staggered out, pointing a pistol in Joel’s direction. And that was how Ben spent his last round.
Now that his rifle was out of ammunition, there was no point in staying where he was. Ben jumped up, slinging the M24 over his shoulder, and pulled out the pistol, all the while fighting the urge to look over in the direction of the still. He could tell
