A New Attitude. Charlotte Hughes

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СКАЧАТЬ sped toward the house. Too fast. “Get down!” He tugged Asia to the floor.

      Slade crouched and peered through the bottom corner of the blinds. A barrage of gunshots turned his patrol car into Swiss cheese.

      “Shots fired! Shots fired! Newer-model black SUV. Need backup! Now!” His voice reverberated and increased an octave, hollow in his own ears. Anticipating a blast, he shielded Asia with his body.

      Several seconds passed with no explosion. Pulse drumming and fury radiating up his neck, Slade shifted to get another glance outside. “Stay down.” His hands shook with adrenaline as he pushed the blinds aside.

      The assailants circled on the snow-covered ground, filtering headlights inside again. They were coming back! He dived, covering Asia a second time.

      Bullets blasted through the home, shattering the window and raining glass.

      The dispatcher’s robotic response melded into the background of machine gun fire. Slade tucked Asia under him, protecting her from the debris pelting his neck and arms.

      “We’ve got to get out of here.” He glanced up, catching sight of the hallway. Grateful he’d cleared the property earlier, he considered their only exit strategy. The bathroom and bedroom at the front of the home would shield them until they climbed out the rear-facing bedroom window.

      Rhythmic pinging penetrated the fabricated home’s thin walls, and the TV took several hits before emitting sparks.

      “Stay low and move to the back.”

      “Okay,” she cried over the noise.

      They army-crawled through the hallway and into the bedroom. Slade pushed the door shut, providing a barrier—albeit a flimsy one—against the firepower.

      “Can you climb out the window?” He lifted the latch, pulled open the tall rectangular glass and shoved out the screen. “It’s only a few feet down. I’ll lower you.”

      “I’ve got it.” Asia moved in front of him and scrambled through. She perched on the ledge before hopping down.

      Slade followed behind and grasped her arm. “Hold on.”

      The gunfire ceased, leaving an eerie calm hanging in the air.

      Had the shooters gone?

      The ground was covered in hard-packed snow and their footprints would be easily visible. Only two viable options of escape remained. Run through the cornfields and hope they reached help before the men found them or hide in the shed. If they ran to the front of the house and the men were waiting, they were dead. Scattered assorted metal junk pieces covered the backyard. They’d have to use the debris in a disorganized game of hopscotch to hide their location. Asia’s compromised state and blood loss combined with his undrivable unit meant hiding was the only logical choice. They’d have to take their chances.

      “Follow me and step only on the junk. Do not let your feet hit the snow.” Slade gripped Asia’s hand and they made their way to the random assortment of hubcaps, cinder blocks and other unidentifiable scraps.

      They neared the shed and Slade peered over his shoulder. Men’s voices echoed inside the house. They’d pursue as soon as they spied the open window.

      He shoved aside the shed’s rusted metal door hanging by one rotted hinge.

      “Is this safe?” Asia whispered, squeezing through the gap.

      It was a good question. “Get behind the hood.” Slade gestured toward an old truck hood leaning against a dried and decaying bale of straw.

      Asia maneuvered around the junk and squatted. Slade joined her and inspected the shadowy space. His flashlight would prove beneficial, but advertising their location would be unwise. Darkness hid things he’d rather not spot, anyway. Various vehicle parts including two more hoods pressed against the far wall, shielding them on all sides. A barricade of automotive leftovers. Please, Lord, let them protect us.

      “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered, silencing his radio.

      Together they faced the door. A sliver of an opening provided a decent vantage point of the back of the home but trapped them with no other way out.

      “They escaped.” A man’s voice carried from the house across the open land.

      “They found the window,” Slade murmured, more to himself than Asia. “Stay behind me,” he warned, moving in front of her.

      “Hey, I need—”

      “Not now,” he hissed. Weapon poised, Slade peered around the oxidized hood and spoke into his shoulder mic. “Shooters still on the premises.” The speaker remained muted because it didn’t matter what the dispatcher said. They had to get out of here—and fast.

      Where was his backup? Slade angled past the bales and crept toward the entrance. Asia started to follow, but he halted her with his hand. He peeked through the crack between the door and the frame. Figures moved inside the bedroom. How many were there?

      “At least Nevil Quenten is dead.” The man’s booming voice made him easy to distinguish.

      “Excellent,” the first replied. “Where’re the cop and woman?”

      Slade stiffened. What had Asia gotten herself into?

      “They got away. You need shooting lessons. All that damage and you still didn’t kill them.”

      Asia shifted behind him and a hollow ting resounded in the small shed. Slade jerked as the offending noisemaker rolled to his feet. A hubcap.

      “Quiet! I heard something,” the voice outside demanded.

      Slade moved to where Asia stood near the hood and bales. He pinned her with a glare. She shrugged and mouthed “Sorry.” Tugging her down, he crouched with her behind the metal barrier. He strained to hear the men’s conversation.

      “There’s nothing out there. I told you, they escaped,” the other argued.

      “No. I see a shed. That’s where they are.”

      Within seconds, the crunching of boots on snow drew closer.

      Slade surveyed the confined space again, searching for a way out. They were trapped.

      The steps paused outside the shed.

       Please, God, get backup here. Fast!

      “Knock, knock.” The man’s taunts were followed by two quick raps on the door.

      Slade held his breath, gun at the ready and heart drumming in his ears. He might be able to outshoot them, but were there more intruders in the vehicle? If he missed, and Asia was hit... No, he’d have to be dead on target.

      A rat skittered over Slade’s boot, and he flinched, nearly squeezing the trigger. The rodent scurried out of the opening, evoking a curse from the intruder.

      “Aw, what’s the matter? Scared of the dark or the little mouse?” The second man roared with laughter. His voice echoed, confirming he was farther СКАЧАТЬ