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“Saxton and I are taking fire. We’re in front of her mother’s house, pinned down,” he reported, each sentence in rapid succession.
“Roger that, contacting local law enforcement now,” Lambchop said.
In the background he heard Yvette. “I’ll scramble Handsome to assist.”
“The shooter is on the roof of a ranch home across the street. I haven’t returned fire, it’s a tight neighborhood of houses here.”
“Roger, understood,” Lambchop said. “The shooter could be approaching you if he hasn’t fired from that location since the initial attack. Be prepared.”
“Laura, you got your weapon ready? He could be heading towards us.”
She unholstered it. Then she reached for her phone, still lying on the ground beside the car out in the open. Another volley of shots impacted the blacktop as she snatched her phone. She peered out from under the car where she hid, watching for the feet of their assailant to approach. Fearing her mother would hear the shots and either look out a window or come outside, she dictated a quick text. “Mom, hide on the floor in the bathroom. We’re fine. Stay there until I come for you. Police are on the way.” She hit send.
They waited for what seemed an eternity but was in reality only a few minutes. Laura Lee’s ass cheek burned. She tapped near it with her hand and felt wetness, blood. Damn, these were her favorite blue jeans. She kept her face on the ground, her eyes sweeping the area in front of the car as far as she could see in the darkness. Why didn’t the neighbors across the street have any outside lights on? With just the lights from inside the homes spilling out, it was too dim to see much.
“I’m going to see if he’s still on the roof,” Dupont called.
“Be careful,” she replied.
He was sure he could make it behind the play fort if he moved fast enough. It was only a few feet away. And it would give him a better vantage point of their shooter, especially if he approached. He took his overshirt off and waved it in the air. A barrage of bullets was the reply. It sounded as if they were fired from the same location. He balled up his shirt and got ready to move. As he threw the shirt to his left, he darted to his right, towards the play fort. He heard the gunfire from across the street and the rounds impacting his car, the driveway, and probably his shirt.
Beneath the car Laura Lee flinched at the sound of each shot being fired and the impact on either the car or the ground near her. Where were the police? She heard no sirens yet. “Brad?”
“Stay down,” he called back.
From the direction his voice came, she could tell he was no longer near the hood of the car. Her butt cheek still burned, and her heart raced. The huge turkey dinner she’d eaten sat like a rock in her stomach, threatening to come back up.
Dupont peered through one of the crevices in the play fort at the roof of the house their shooter was atop. He saw no movement. He saw no reflection of light as he had before. His gaze swept the entire area in front of him. The yards between the houses were shadowy spaces that would conceal him. There were bushes and trees in the front of the houses that would make it easy for him to approach unseen.
He gripped his weapon, his eyes still scanning the area–up to the roof, peering into the darkened yards of the houses across the street, searching for movement anywhere. After several minutes, he saw movement beside the ranch house, a figure creeping along the fence line of the house next door where the dog had been. He was dressed in black and only visible because his white face was caught in the moonlight.
He wanted to call out to Laura Lee and warn her. But he didn’t want the assailant to know he’d been seen. Hopefully, she saw him too. The figure ducked behind a row of bushes at the front of the property. He just needed to step into the open and Dupont would have a clear shot, a shot he’d take.
Beneath the car, Laura Lee saw movement across the street. Oh shit, he was coming. Would he see her under the car? If he did, all he had to do was drop to the ground, himself, and fire at her. She was a sitting duck. She kept her weapon in her hand, finger poised at the trigger, trained on the street and the houses beyond that she could see from where she was. With every second that ticked by, her adrenaline increased.
The headlights of a car approached. It turned into the driveway of the ranch home. Laura Lee and Dupont both watched, frightened for the two occupants of the car, who they could see through the car’s windows. The passenger opened her door and stepped out.
“There’s a gunman in the area! Get back in the car and drive away!” Dupont yelled.
She turned towards Laura Lee’s mother’s house. “What?” she yelled.
“Get back in the car! Drive away! Gunman!” he yelled louder.
His words registered, and she quickly got back into the car. It sped out of the driveway and went back in the direction it had come from. No shots were fired. Dupont breathed a sigh of relief but realized he’d taken his eyes off the area their shooter had hid in. Where was he now?
“Laura, you got eyes on him?”
“No! And where are the damned police?”
Several more cars drove down the street, passing them. They waited, keeping their eyes focused across the street. Five minutes passed. Then ten minutes and three more vehicles. Dupont was sure their assailant had to be gone by now.
Another set of headlights approached, moving fast. The minivan pulled up and came to a screeching stop in front of the driveway, blocking Dupont’s car from the shooter across the street, if that’s where he still was. Rich Burke slid out of the minivan and took up a firing position using the open door as a shield. He aimed across the hood.
“Circles, Lah-lee, sitrep!” he called.
“Shooter was behind the bushes at the front of the yard across the street!” Dupont called back. “We lost him when a car pulled into the driveway.”
“You both okay?” Burke asked.
