I pushed.
And inside was…
Justine, sitting on the couch.
“Justine,” I said in surprise. “Holy hell, you’re—”
“Zack!”
I moved out of the way just as a bullet that would have struck me in the head missed. I turned and wasted no time shooting the Bandit, but not before he got one wayward shot off that struck me in the arm.
“Fuck!” I grunted.
“You OK?” she said. “Eduardo left. He’s in another—”
“He’ll be here soon enough,” Brock said. “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here!”
And as if on cue, right when it seemed like we’d gotten what we needed, gunfire erupted outside. I couldn’t tell if the Bandits had laid a trap for us or just uncovered us, but it didn’t make a damn bit of difference at this point. We had to get the fuck out of here.
Brock led the way as I relied on adrenaline to push me through the pain. Thank fuck he’d shot me in my left arm instead of my right; I could still aim with my dominant arm, but fuck if it didn’t hurt like shit. From the other doors on the top floor, Bandits emerged. I pinned Justine behind me as Brock and I killed them and hurried downstairs.
“We gotta fucking go!” Brock yelled.
“No shit,” Mason said. “They’re bringing in men from the front. Really hope we have a clean run to the vehicle.”
“Steele?”
“Taking fire out here!” he said.
We had to cede ground at some point. Either we pushed to the back and tried to make a run for it, or…well, there weren’t a whole lot of other fucking options.
“Damn!” Mason roared.
“You hit?”
“I’m fine.”
Yes.
“Fall back!” Brock said. “We have the doctor. We need to get back to the vehicle!”
But when we got outside, instead of falling back to a clear path, we found ourselves pinned down. There were Bandits advancing from the front of the house and about three on each side. Steele and the prospect were reduced to using mere furniture and grills as cover, something that wouldn’t last very long.
“And we got a fucking quarter mile to go; you gotta be shittin’ me,” Mason growled.
“We have no choice, Mason,” Brock said. “We—”
And then a loud honk broke through the air.
I peered around the furniture long enough to see Garrett driving his van off road as fast as he could toward us—no, first toward the Bandits that were laying fire on us.Guess becoming a dad didn’t totally knock the combat spirit out of him.He hit one Bandit, sending him careening forward, while the other just barely managed to dodge the van.
Garrett swung the vehicle toward the porch, and we all made a dash for it. This time, I put Justine in front of me so I could shield her from—
“Fuck!”
Something hit my spine. It felt like someone had taken a battering ram and slammed it against my spine. I fell to the ground.
“Shit, grab him!” Brock yelled, laying down more fire.
