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I guess Sid heard, because another CRACK! rang out from up in the hills behind the flaming barn.
The Biker with the Willie Neslon braids toppled onto the ground screaming, hit in the chest.
“One down,” Sid said in my earpiece.
“Shoot Lou!” Jack yelled.
“If you hadn’t put a giant fuckin’ smokestack between me an’ him, I mighta been ABLE to,” Sid snarled.
“Move, then!”
“Why don’t you use that fancy peashooter of yours?”
“I’m workin’ on it!”
The Hazmat suit guy had belly-crawled all the way to the bikers. Lou grabbed his arm and drug him behind the nearest cycle.
As soon as Benjy saw the Hazmat guy move past him, he must have realized he didn’t have to stay put with the bikers, and he started crawling towards us.
I was torn. I wanted to hate him – he had confessed to killing Ali, after all – but I knew that Lou was behind it all. Benjy had been no more than a puppet.
Not only that, but I could see from Benjy’s expression that he was terrified. I was scared to death, so I could imagine how afraid he was right about now. Tears streamed down his face as he crawled through the dust towards us.
Jack finally loaded the rocket launcher. He sprawled out on the ground, ready to fire – but Benjy was right in his path, fifty feet away.
“God DAMN it!” Jack roared, and swiped the air with his hand. “Get out of the way! GET OUT OF THE WAY!”
Benjy’s face registered shame as well as panic, and he started to crawl off to the side.
He wasn’t exactly in the direct path of the gunfight, but he still had a hell of a long way to go to reach cover.
His best bet to survive was our truck. Otherwise he was probably going to die.
Jack looked up at me. I could see the question in his eyes:
What do you want me to do?
No matter what Benjy had done to Ali – no matter what he’d done to me and my entire family – I didn’t want to see him die right in front of my eyes like an animal. I certainly didn’t want him to get blown to bits by a stray rocket.
I’d killed someone last night, and it had scarred me – probably for life.
Benjy could go to prison for what he did… but I wasn’t going to sign off on his execution, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to participate. I had enough scars.
“Benjy – crawl over here!” I screamed at him as I fired at the bikers.
His face lit up with relief, and he started crawling back towards the truck.
Forty feet…
Thirty feet…
Jack got to his feet and hid behind the truck door, waiting for a lull so he could fire the rocket from a standing position.
“Where is he?!” Jack yelled.
I looked over the door as I returned fire.
Twenty feet away.
