Delaney fell to his knees into the snow, dropped the pistol, looked on.
Hightower kicked the body in the garage, flipping it over.
He turned to Delaney and gave a thumbs-down.
This wasn’t Lancer, either.
Just then, another man came running around the back of the property, an AR-15 at his shoulder. Pete saw him before Zack, because Zack was still inside the garage.
Pete was far enough out of the light that the armed man hadn’t seen him, but Pete picked up the pistol and fired once at the man at a distance of sixty feet.
The round missed, but the enemy raised his weapon and fired back into the trees, narrowly missing the deputy fire chief.
Zack couldn’t see the man shooting to his left, but he was well aware of him now, so he raced out of the garage, onto the slick and steep driveway, and fired his submachine gun fully automatic, dumping round after round into the man.
When Zack’s gun emptied, the man was dead just twenty feet away, but Zack was slow in his reload, because he dropped to a knee and began hacking the choking bear spray from his lungs.
Pete Delaney looked on and began walking towards him to try to help, but he’d made it only a few feet before yet another man appeared from the cabin.
Running out of the house, through the garage with a towel covering most of his face, the man staggered, slowed, and put a hand on the Bronco to steady himself. Whoever he was, Pete was sure the man was almostovercome with the chemicals, and when he began walking forward again, a pistol swinging in his left hand, the man rubbed his face and eyes with the towel.
Pete realized Zack didn’t see the man approaching from behind, and the man approaching was unaware of Zack, just steps in front of him.
The fireman raised his pistol at the threat, but he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t going to shoot Zack in the process.
Ultimately, he did nothing, because the two men collided, fell to the ground, and Zack knocked the pistol out of the other man’s hand and threw a reactive punch.
They fought there on the driveway on the slick surface, the empty submachine gun between them, and very quickly Pete got the impression Zack was battling the man called Kincaid, because even partially blinded and coughing uncontrollably, this individual was one hell of a ground fighter.
Forty-Seven
Court felt like they’d been running a long time, but finally they made it to the utility road that Court had seen on Google Maps.
He called out to the girl, who was now twenty feet or so ahead. “Hang on.”
She pulled up, Court pulled his neck gaiter back up to his nose, and then he put his hand to his AirPod. “Six for Night Train. You with me, brother?”
There was no response. The girl looked at him, so he motioned to her to follow the trail down the hill towards the two-lane road.
“Night Train?”
He heard coughing now; the signal here on the mountain was poor, but he thought he heard the sound of grunting.
Andie looked up at him. “Everything okay?”
He nodded, still listening to his earpiece for any news.
She said, “Who are you?”
“Me? I’m…I’m just a guy helping out.”
Andie said, “Are you a cop?”
“Sure am.”
“What’s your name?”
Court thought a moment. Finally, he said, “Starsky.”
