They twisted and convulsed with each hit, crimson spewing.
Antonio had gotten tagged in the thigh. He tumbled to the ground. Blood spurted from the wound, soaking into the dirt as he writhed and moaned in agony.
Jack ran across the clearing to give aid. He knelt down beside him and put pressure on the wound, trying to stop the flow of blood.
I grabbed an extra magazine and a pistol from a dirtbag and advanced to an ATV and took cover.
Two goons spilled out of the house with rifles shouldered.
I lined one up in my sights, squeezed the trigger, and fired off two rounds.
The thug twitched with each hit and tumbled back.
Bullets snapped in my direction as the other returned fire.
I readjusted my aim and took out the other creep.
More blood spewed, and the goon dropped to the ground in front of the house.
I scanned the house and grounds, looking for additional threats.
The place was silent and still for the moment.
I glanced at JD as he treated Antonio, then I advanced closer to the house, taking cover behind another vehicle.
From there, I darted to the front door and held up at the frame. I swung the door open, angled the barrel of my rifle into the foyer, and was met with muzzle flash.
I ducked for cover around the frame as bullets streaked in my direction.
After a short burst, I angled my weapon around the frame again and squeezed the trigger. Bullets chewed up drywall at the corner where the goon had taken cover. The copperminions of death pierced the wall and pelted his torso as he hid behind it.
He groaned and crumpled.
His comrade in the living room had taken cover behind the sofa and unleashed a torrent of bullets. They chewed up the door frame and shattered glass as I took cover.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins.
I backed away and circled around the house to the patio.
I had a clear view of the living room through a large window wall.
The thug by the sofa still focused on the front door.
I took the opportunity to unload a few shots through the window, peppering the scumbag.
Crimson splattered the white leather sofa.
My bullets had webbed the window with cracks, but it was still intact.
I grabbed a decorative rock from the patio and hurled it through the window, shattering it. Shards danced on the tile and the concrete outside.
I advanced to the window frame with caution, angled my rifle inside, and swept the barrel across the space.
Glass crunched under my boots as I stepped through the window frame with caution. I advanced to the dead guy by the couch, knelt down, and felt for a pulse in his neck just to be sure.
He was long gone.
The guy by the foyer still moaned and groaned.
