Claire looked back at Jared, and he could see the girl was literally on the verge of breaking down. Jared smiled at the girl, which he hoped would calm her, but somehow knew would come off seeming absurd under their current conditions. The girl just stared wide eyed at Jared, who turned away from her to look for their pursuer. The person was not to be seen, causing Jared to breathe a sigh of relief.
Ahead, John saw the residential street they were on turned to the right and not the left, which was a Godsend. As John rounded the corner, a third whistle sounded dead ahead. John’s chest tightened as he searched for the source of the third whistler. The man was forty yards up the street, standing behind a sedan in a driveway. As John acquired the man in his sights, the fellow crouched out of sight and out of danger of being riddled with rounds from John’s H&K 416—or so the ole chap errantly thought.
As soon as John saw the man duck out of harm’s way, he dropped to the ground, obtained a fairly decent sight picture, with the man’s legs being his target, and unleashed three rounds in rapid succession. The man screamed and dropped to the ground, giving John what he was really after, the man’s torso and all the vital goodies it housed. Five more rounds and the man fell silent. John gained his feet and visually swept the street for any additional threats.
As Jared rounded the corner, he also heard the third whistle and witnessed John slide to a knee, then roll to his side. At first Jared horrifyingly thought John was shot, but as the Special Missions Unit operator began firing from some weird contorted sideways, lying-on-the-ground position, Jared realized he was engaging someone in front of their position, and suddenly John’s body position began to make sense. John’s success was confirmed by the screams that erupted from up the street as his rounds first tore into the man’s feet and legs, and then his head and body after he fell to the ground.
Jared pushed at Barry and Dwight, trying to get everyone up against the house they were in front of and out of any sort of danger from the person or persons John was engaging. Jared heard another faint whistle off to his left and assumed it was the men from the vehicles. They probably didn’t realize the parallel road didn’t intersect the road they had been set up on, and had moved ahead in order to intercept Jared and his friends.
As John gained his feet, he turned to Jared. “Let’s go. We move up to that third house and set up a hasty ambush on the dude following us. Get everyone into the side yard, and I’ll take care of the shooting.” Finished, John turned and moved out at a dead run.
Jared gestured to the rest of the party, and they all tore after John. Jared watched, thinking to himself how not one of them was taking an active role in furthering their chances of survival. They were all just following like frightened children. For a moment Jared stared at the five people with disdain as he evaluated their worth at this very moment. In a flash, Jared thought of a scenario where he and John simply abandoned these lesser people and returned to the ranch house.
This thought ended with a life much harder than Jared wished to lead, and the result was he realized everyone was adjusting at their own pace based on their own life experiences before and after the event. Not everyone was evolving with the celerity Jared was, and not everyone possessed the same before-event experience John possessed. Heck, as far as Jared was concerned, John was living in the same environment he’d thrived in while in the military.
By the time Jared and the rest of the group reached the third house and Jared had everyone safely in the far side yard, Jared had come to terms with the fact he needed every one of these people in some form or fashion.
John reached the third house and moved towards a brick planter box, which was the reason he’d chosen this residence. As he was settling into his ambush position behind the planter, he was vaguely aware of the other six people as they rushed past him and down the side of the structure. He looked up as the last person approached and saw it was Jared. John was mildly pleased to see the man’s eyes were not filled with terror, but seemed focused and determined.
“Watch my six, bro,” was all John said as Jared scuttled past him.
Jared’s only indication he heard John was when he posted up on the corner of the house next door, rifle trained to John’s rear. John didn’t have long to wait, maybe thirty agonizing seconds, before a lone man poked his head around the corner, searched the street for three or four seconds, then stepped around on the sidewalk. The man’s posture gave the impression he’d been expecting something other than an empty street. John waited impatiently as the man crept up the street, caution winning over slowing the man’s progress.
The deceased whistler was thankfully lying dead behind the vehicle he’d unwisely chosen for cover. The dead man would not be easily seen by his friend unless the man dropped to his hands and knees to search. This man was doing nothing of the sort, which greatly relieved John.
The man to their rear moved to the front of the first house, stopped, and gave a sharp whistle. The dead man was regrettably unable to respond, but the men from the vehicles responded with their faint whistles. The man whistled again, this time giving three piercing bursts from his lips. John studied the approaching man, seeing he was bearded, armed with a shotgun, and wearing jeans along with a flannel shirt. He was darker
