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“Wyatt’s hit,” Griz said.
“Where?” Devil said.
“It’s my leg,” Wyatt said. “I’ll be fine, get me up.”
Wyatt tried to get his feet, but let out a short cry of pain and then collapsed back down again. Blood was soaking the leg of his jeans, and he clearly wasn’t going to be able to walk, much less run his way back to the van.
The tempo of bullet strikes on the dumpster increased. Griz tried to fire back, but he ran out of ammo quickly and had to keep ducking back behind cover. It was going to be only a matter of time before Death’s Head moved on them, and if they remained stuck behind this dumpster, they’d be shot down like rats in a trap.
“I’m sorry, Wyatt,” Griz said. “Jesus, I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
“It’s nothing, man,” Wyatt said. “Let’s just get out of this.”
“Where the fuck did they all come from?” Griz said. “There’s a lot more than two of them.”
“They must’ve spotted us while we were driving into their territory,” Devil said, taking a couple of pot shots over the top of the dumpster with his pistol. “Those two waited in the pawn shop until their boys could show up.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Griz said. “We need to get out of here.”
“He’s right,” Pony said. “Right now, they’re probably maneuvering some guys around behind us to box us into this alley. Then we’re fucked.”
“I can’t run,” Wyatt said. “You guys should go.”
“Fuck that,” Griz said.
“You heard Pony. They’ll kill all of us if we’re trapped here, Griz, you need to get back to the van.”
“I’m not leaving you, Wyatt.”
“You’re not going to have to,” Pony said, changing magazines on his rifle. “You can carry him, right, Griz?”
“Yeah. You bet.”
“Okay,” Pony said. “I’m going to lay down fire with my rifle, you get Wyatt over your shoulder and carry him back to the van. On the double quick, right?”
“Me and Pony will shoot like crazy, keep their heads down,” Devil said.
“You’ve got to move fast, Griz,” Pony said. “We’re going to burn through our ammo fast doing this.”
“I’ll move fast,” Griz said, leaning down and heaving Wyatt over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Ready.”
“Go now, Griz!” Devil said, shooting his pistol over the top of the dumpster as fast as he could.
Griz saw Pony pop out from the side of the dumpster, firing rapidly from his rifle, and then he turned on his heel and sprinted as fast as he could back toward the van. The incoming gunfire had dropped off to almost nothing due to Pony and Devil’s cover fire, and Griz focused on making his legs churn as fast as he could to cover the distance to the van.
His thighs and his lungs were burning like fire by the time he reached the van, from sprinting while carrying Wyatt over his shoulder. Every instant, he felt like a bullet was going to find a way into his back, but then he was at the van, and he man-handled Wyatt into the passenger’s seat before climbing past him to get behind the wheel.
“He left the engine running,” Griz said as he put the van into gear. “Good thinking, Devil.”
The gunfire from the dumpster had petered out to nothing now. Pony and Devil must have been either out of ammunition or close enough to it that they were holding out their last few bullets.
Griz stomped on the gas and got the van moving, pulling it over to the same side of the alley as the dumpster to protect him and Wyatt from the enemy gunfire that now started back up again. He could see some of them, now; the enemy had moved up from the pawn shop doorway to the mouth of the alley, shooting their pistols around the corner without really aiming.
Pony must’ve been right. These guys were just keeping them pinned down while others were running around to the back of the alley. There was no time to lose.
Griz brought the van to a screeching halt just shy of the dumpster. In the headlights of the van, he watched as Devil and Pony made a break for it, firing their last shots as they ran around the side of the van and then dove through the open sliding door.
“We’re in!” Devil shouted. “Go, go, Griz!”
