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Crap.
Time’s up. If they’ve got what they were looking for, my chances aren’t good. I struggle against the guy on top of me, but he’s too heavy. He laughs and slams my wrists back into the floor. “Easy, easy.”
Then suddenly, he’s off me, launched straight into the air and across the floor. Stunned, I don’t even move.
“You like picking on women, asshole?” A massive but familiar form kicks the guy right in the ribs and something crunches.
Alpha.
“Watch out!” I scream, as one of the Pit Vipers runs out, guns drawn.
Ripper, in the doorway with one of the biggest handguns I’ve ever seen in his good hand, takes aim and shoots before the air is even out of my lungs. Red blooms in the side of the guy’s neck, and he crashes to the floor with an anguished grunt.
Right behind him, another man comes into view, already looking down in confusion at the two hilts sticking out of his chest. Blade already has two more in his hands. Where does he keep them all?
The man’s pistol drops to the floor with a clank, and goes off, blowing out one of my windows. I scream and slap my hands over my ears.
“Don’t fucking move!” Ripper yells.
“You okay?” Alpha puts himself between me and the bedroom, gun at the ready.
I have to check before I nod, but other than a tender cheek and an aching wrist, I’m alright. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“You fuckers gonna come out and play? Or do I let my buddy here loose on you?” Ripper tips his head towards Blade. “He’s ornery as fuck and he hasn’t carved anyone up in days.”
With a wild laugh, he throws himself aside just in time to avoid the answering gunshot. Splinters rain from the back wall of my living room, close enough that I’ll be picking them out of my hair afterwards.
If there is an afterwards.
“Stay down,” growls Alpha, pushing me lower with a big hand on my back at the same time as he peeks over the couch and sights the doorway.
Ripper pops out and fires around the corner, and I swear lightning just struck inside my house from the thunder of it. Curling up to be as small as I possibly can, I whimper under my breath. What is so important that it’s worth destroying my life?
They fire back and forth, and each time I jump a little less. Is it possible to get used to being caught in crossfire? Maybe I’m just numb. I can see my glasses from here, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to get out from under cover to grab them.
One of the bullets wizzes by into the kitchen, and there’s a high pitched whine followed by the smell of rotten eggs.
Oh no.
“Don’t shoot,” I scream. “The gas is—”
Too late.
Someone’s bullet strikes the metal back plate behind my stove with a clank that immediately turns into a fire cloud that rolls through the room, knocking me to the ground. Alpha, despite his massive bulk, flies over the back of the couch. I can’t tell what happens to the others, too busy shielding my face from debris.
“Fuck!” someone yells.
The shockwave passes, but it’s followed by unbearable heat. I don’t have to look over my shoulder to tell that the kitchen is ablaze, but I do anyway to see how bad it is.
Bad.
Really bad.
Flames lick their way up the door frame, and black smoke is pouring into the room. Of course, my fire extinguisher is in there with the fire, and it seems woefully inadequate anyway.
“Get the fuck out!” I recognize Shovelhead’s voice. I pop my head up and see him running into the room, the videotape in one hand and his gun in the other. Ripper barrels into him, knocking him over before he gets to the stairs. They roll over twice before he manages to knock Ripper away. “Jesus, the fucking place is on fire. We can kill each other later!”
Shovelhead pushes to his feet, followed by his two surviving flunkies. Blade sends a knife into one of their shoulders with a sickening thump. The guy careens into the wall with a pained grunt, but it doesn’t slow them down for long.
