Rob had his hand on the handle of the front door.
“We’re going out the front door?” whispered Dan, surprised.
“What better way than to gain the element of surprise?” said Rob, a half-smile forming on his lips.
Rob opened the door in one swift motion. The dim afternoon light flooded inside.
Dan looked up at Rob, who stood there, big and tall. His shoulders were wide and he held his gun in both hands. He looked impossibly tough, the last sort of person you’d want to mess with. Dan was glad he was on his side.
Rob stepped outside, brushing the screen door away like a gnat.
Dan followed. He squinted against the light.
They both looked around. There was nothing in sight. Nothing but houses close together and the narrow street.
“You hear an engine anywhere?”
Dan shook his head.
“They’ve probably got it turned off. We’ve got to find the source of the sound.”
The cracking sound came to them again. Louder this time, now that they were outdoors.
Dan cocked his head. “Sounds like it’s over that way,” he said, pointing in front of them, up the street. It was probably north, but he wasn’t sure.
“Let’s go. Stay a couple steps behind me, to my right. I need to know where you are.”
Dan nodded, and they set off, walking through the small yards of the houses, staying as far away from the road as possible. There wasn’t really any way to camouflage themselves, to remain hidden while moving, but at least they weren’t right in the middle of the road.
Still, they were targets.
The sounds continued. Dan could hear the tone of it more clearly now. It might have been wood breaking, or it might have been something else. What the hell were they doing? Breaking a house down piece by piece? Stealing the siding off of it?
It didn’t make sense, but Dan guessed that it didn’t have to. All they needed was a vehicle.
But it seemed like a long shot. Why did Rob think they’d have one? It was nothing more than a guess.
And a risky guess at that.
They walked down to the next intersection, took a right, continued for a little ways, and then took a left.
The sound was getting louder.
“Sounds like they’re doing home renovations,” joked Rob.
Dan was too nervous to laugh. It didn’t seem like the time for jokes to him. His heart was beating fast and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He was clutching the gun so tightly that his knuckles were turning white and his fingers hurt.
“You know how to use that thing, right, kid?” said Rob, glancing back at Dan and his gun.
“Uh, for the most part,” said Dan.
“You’ve got the safety off. That’s a good start. Just point and shoot. Not much to it.”
Dan knew there was a lot more to it than that, and the knowledge didn’t make him feel any more confident.
The street they were on ended only a few houses down. There wasn’t a cul-de-sac. It wasn’t that type of neighborhood. The street simply dumped out into a tiny lot filled with refuse, discard and rusted shopping carts. Plastic bags lay here and there, some of them blowing in the wind.
There was a car parked in front of a small blue house. It was the only one on the street, and it was parked in the middle of the road.
It was one of those boxy Chevrolets from the early 1980s. The paint was dinged up and there were dents all over the roof.
The sounds were louder.
“Sounds like they’re coming from around back,” said Rob. “That must be the car. Come on.”
Dan’s heart was beating faster than ever.
Rob broke into a jog, and Dan picked up his own pace. They were only two houses away from the car now. They were closing the distance. Still no sign of whoever was making those sounds.
“Get in,” said Rob, when they reached the car. He threw open the driver’s side door and threw himself into the seat.
The passenger side door was locked.
Rob reached over and unlocked it from the inside. Dan opened it. The hinges were rusty and it swung unevenly, but Dan got the heavy door opened, got himself inside, and tried to close it quietly.
But despite his efforts, the door slammed closed. It was just too heavy.
Shit. Would they hear it?
There was a pause in the snapping sounds coming from behind the house.
Rob was frantically searching the interior for the keys. “They’ve got to be here somewhere,” he said. “Help me look.”
Dan opened the glove box, which was half-broken, and everything immediately fell out onto the floor at his feet. There were old food wrappers that smelled, insurance paperwork, and a huge cluster of keys on a big ring, like the type a janitor would carry on the job.
“Pass me those,” said Rob.
Another snapping sound. Loud. So they hadn’t heard the door slamming.
“Don’t you think they’d have taken the keys with them?” said Dan.
Rob had the big key ring in his hands, and was flipping through the keys rapidly, one by one. Some of them were huge, and obviously didn’t go to a car. Some looked like house keys. Some were rusted. Some were filthy.
Rob tried the most promising ones one by one.
“They probably did,” said Rob. “But maybe there’s a spare here.”
“Maybe they kept one under the car,” said Dan. “You know, one of those little magnetic compartments?”
“Good call,” said Rob. “Get out and look for it.”
Dan opened the car door again, wishing he’d thought of it earlier. He had to push with all his weight to get the door opened enough to squeeze out.
Dan ran his hand underneath the filthy car, searching with his hand. He was down on his hands and knees when he heard a gunshot.
The shot rang out.
The passenger window above Dan’s head shattered. The bullet had struck it, pierced it, and left a small hole surrounded by a spider-web of hairline fractures.
“Rob!”
Had he been hit?
The old car suddenly roared to a start.
“In the car!” shouted Rob.
If Rob had been hit, he was still alive enough to turn on the car.
Dan turned his head to see two figures coming down the driveway. One held a handgun. The other swung a baseball bat at his side.
They were closing the distance fast.
As Dan rose to get into the car, he pointed his handgun and squeezed the trigger three times in quick succession. The gun kicked more than he’d been expecting. He didn’t hit them. His aim was way off, but it made them take cover.
The two men threw themselves to the ground just as Dan threw himself onto the passenger’s seat.
Rob already had the car in reverse. He hit the gas the second Dan was in the car.
The engine roared. The tires squealed.
The car jerked back a foot then suddenly stopped.
Rubber was burning. The strong stench of it billowed into the air along with smoke.
Dan’s head whiplashed into the seat’s padded headrest.
The emergency brake was on. Rob found the release with his left hand and undid it.
The car rocketed backwards, roaring backwards down the street, leaving a cloud of rubber smoke behind it.
The two men were in the middle of the street, sprinting towards the car.
When they reached the cross street, Rob swung the wheel hard. The car spun around sharply.
The back bumper slammed into a streetlight, making a horrendous crunching sound.
Dan was thrown back once again.
Rob jerked the shifter into drive, and they were off again.
The tires spun and squealed, and they were speeding down the streets they’d just walked down.
“They still coming for us?” shouted Rob over the roar of the engine.
Dan checked the back window.
“Yeah,” he yelled.
“We’re going to have to be quick about this. We’ve got to get Olivia and all the gear. We’re not going to have much of a head start on them. They’ll be coming for us.”