I scurried to the attic door, pushed it down, the ladder unfolded, I scrambled down, and I ran to the living room.
Hannibal was on his belly, but he had his head up, nose pointed attentively to the door.He was bleeding from too many places.Tonks was whimpering, fussing around him and licking him.
I bent to them and put my hands on Hannibal.
When he felt my touch, he kept staring out the door, but he whimpered too.
My heart cracked.
“We’ll get you help, baby,” I promised, stroking his glossy fur.“Hang tight.”
I surged up and ran out the door.
“Put your boots on!” Hutch thundered the instant he saw me.
I skittered to halt, raced back, went into the kitchen, shoved my feet in my Uggs, grabbed Hutch’s brown and black insulated flannel and shrugged it on, then grabbed his sheepskin coat.
I turned around and raced right back out the front door.
Hutch was pointing his rifle at the five men.
I’d seen the pictures on the news.
One was Enstrom.
One was Burress.
What the fuck?
I went to him and handed him his jacket.
He handed me his rifle.
“Keep it on them.”
I hated guns.
I put the butt to my shoulder and aimed.
“Steady, May,” he said then,BOOM!I jumped because a shotgun blast pierced my ears.
I glanced at him and watched as he shook it, heard the ratchet, then,BOOM!he shot it into the sky.
He tossed it aside and grabbed another one.
I turned back to the line of wounded men.
BOOM!Shake.Cock.BOOM!
Headlights could be seen on Hutch’s lane.
He promptly picked up a shotgun, put it to his shoulder and aimed at the old blue truck trundling up the drive.
It stopped, the door opened, and a man shouted, “It’s me!Me!Hutch!It’s Paddy!”
“Get over here!”Hutch ordered.
The man ducked into his truck, came out with his own shotgun, and then he jumped out.
