“Don’t run in a straight line,” Ms. Wilson said.
Immediately, he swerved in a new direction, hoping the sudden change would throw off whoever was shooting at them.
“Blayne,” it was Ethan. “I’m right behind you. Keep running.”
“The safest place is under the overhang next to the bridge. Get there and press your body against the wall,” Ms. Wilson said.
Blayne didn’t need to be told twice. He altered his course to head toward the bridge. Blayne heard a bullet hit concrete somewhere nearby when he left the grassy area but didn’t slow down. He practically slammed into the wall and waited for Ethan to hurry up behind him.
Ethan was hunkered down behind a short concrete wall separating Purpose Park from the pedestrian sidewalk.
“What are you doing?” Blayne asked. As if to answer him, a chunk of concrete from the top of the wall splintered as a bullet hit it. “Fuck!”
“It’s coming from the bridge,” Ethan said.
Blayne leaned away from the wall and looked up. He had just enough time to see a rifle at the bell tower’s top.
“How the hell?” Blayne started. “The sniper’s in the bell tower. He has Ethan pinned down.”
“Stay where you are,” Hennigan said. “Ms. Wilson, can you verify the location?”
Blayne heard a buzzing motion overhead followed by a shot. A drone crashed on the sidewalk, maybe fifty feet in front of Blayne.
“Was that enough confirmation?” Blayne asked.
“We’re on our way,” Hennigan said. “Stay where you are.”
Blayne carefully crept his way down the side of the wall next to the museum.If I can just get to the door.
“Mr. Dickenson, I told you to stay put,” Hennigan’s voice said.
Blayne looked back to see another chunk of the wall where Ethan hid crumble away as another bullet struck it. “Sorry,” Blayne said. He removed the earpiece from his ear, flung it on the ground and crushed it under his foot. He was tired of being bombarded with so many voices in his head.
The glass door of the museum lay shattered. All Blayne needed to do was cross the threshold into the museum. The padlock locking the old metal door on the tower was broken off. Blayne put his hand on the door and pulled lightly. He expected it to groan under the weight of the metal grating against metal. Someone had done a great job of keeping the metal door lubricated, because it barely made a sound.
Blayne entered the tower and found a round stone staircase leading up to the belfry.I’m fucking nuts, he thought as he put his foot on the first step. He kept his back to the wall and focused on what was happening above. He’d heard the brief pause before the sniper shot another round. Blayne didn’t know much about guns, but he knew this one had to be semi-automatic, because he didn’t hear the gun loaded and cocked between shots. Blayne had only fired guns once in his life. He’d gone hunting on a West Texas ranch with his best friend. He still remembered the pain from the shotgun as it recoiled against his teenage shoulder. What he heard above him sounded nothing like that.
Blayne took one stair at a time. Slowly he climbed, the sounds of the shots getting louder and louder with each step.
“Base to Platoon Leader,” a voice cracked over a walkie-talkie above him.
“Give me a second. Got ear protection in.” There was a scuffle above him. “What was that?”
“Platoon Leader, this is base. Sniper Two is down. Our three men in the crowd were killed. Meet at the exfiltration point in five minutes.”
“Roger that,” the sniper above him said. “Time for a few more shots.”
Blayne covered his ears, waiting for the next shot. The higher he got, the more stairs he tried to climb each time the sniper took a shot. He figured with the gun reverberating off the bells above him, the sniper wouldn’t be able to hear him on the stairs if there wasn’t some kind of trap along the way.
After the next shot, Blayne was just below the wooden planks of the belfry. He could see the sniper on the other end of the landing from the staircase. He’d only get one chance to do anything.
“Come on, little boy-band fucker, poke that head up from behind that wall. Let’s play peek-a-boo. I know you want to,” the sniper mumbled before taking another shot.
Blayne made it to the belfry and crouched. The sniper stood before him, perched in one of the giant window areas next to one of the two bells.
“There you are,” the sniper said.
Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, Blayne charged the sniper as a raw and guttural roar escaped his mouth. The sniper turned and tried to level his gun at Blayne, but it took him a second too long. Blayne shoved the man toward the window. The sniper rifle crashed to the wooden floor. Blayne grabbed the side of the bell and crashed it into the guy’s head as he tried to regain his balance and went stumbling right out of the window. Blayne heard the sniper’s cry echo off the outside wall before the sound of his body hitting the ground with a solid thud.
