I heard the engines again now, a car roaring up the drive, another coming from behind the house. I looked for Berleand. He was sprinting toward me.
"Run to the woods!" I shouted.
Tires shrieking to a stop. Another burst of gunfire.
I ran toward the trees and dark, away from both the house and the private road. The woods, I thought. If we could make it to the woods, we could hide. A car sped across the grounds, its headlights searching for us. There were random barrages of bullets. I didn't look back to see where they were coming from. I found a rock and ducked behind it. I turned and saw Berleand still in view.
More gunfire. And Berleand went down.
I rose from behind the rock, but Berleand was too far away from me. Two men were on him. Three others jumped out of a Jeep, all armed. They ran toward Berleand, firing blindly into the woods. One bullet smacked the tree behind me. I ducked back down as another volley went past in a wave.
For a moment there was nothing. Then: "Come out now!"
The man's voice had a heavy Middle Eastern accent. Staying low I glanced out. It was dark, night making more of its claim with each passing moment, but I could make out that at least two of the men had dark hair and dark skin and full beards. Several wore green bandanas around their neck, the kind you could pull up to cover your face. They shouted at one another in a language I didn't understand but figured had to be Arabic.
What the hell was going on?
"Show yourself or we will hurt your friend."
The man saying that appeared to be the leader. He barked out orders and pointed right and left. Two men started circling toward me. One man got back into the car and used his headlights to sweep the woods. I stayed low, my cheek against the ground. My heart pounded in my chest.
I hadn't brought a weapon. Stupid. So goddamn stupid.
I dug into my pocket and tried to get my phone.
The leader called out: "Last chance! I will begin by shooting his knees."
Berleand shouted, "Don't listen to him!"
My fingers found the phone just as a single bullet blast exploded through the night air.
Berleand screamed.
The leader: "Come out now!"
I fumbled with the phone and hit Win's speed dial. Berleand was whimpering now. I closed my eyes, tried to wish it away, needed to think.
Then Berleand's voice fighting through tears: "Don't listen to him!"
"The other knee!"
Another gunshot.
Berleand screamed in obvious agony. The sound ripped at me, shredded my insides. I knew that I couldn't give up. If I showed myself, we would both be dead. Win would have heard what was going on by now. He'd call Jones and law enforcement. It wouldn't be long.
I could hear Berleand crying.
Then one more time, weaker this time, Berleand's voice: "Don't… listen… to… him!"
I heard men in the woods, not far from me. No choice. Had to make a move. I looked at the Victorian mansion on my right. My fingers wrapped themselves around a large rock as something close to a plan started running through my head.
The leader: "I have a knife. I'm going to cut out his eyes now."
There was movement in the house now. I could see it through the window. Not much time. I got up, my knees bent, ready to spring into action.
I heaved the rock as hard as I could in the direction opposite the house. The rock landed against a tree with a thud.
The leader's head turned toward the sound. The men moving through the woods started in that direction too, firing their weapons. The Jeep veered away from me and toward where the rock had landed.
At least, that was what I hoped was happening.
I didn't wait and watch. As soon as the rock left my hand, I dashed through the trees toward the side of the house. I was moving farther away from Berleand's cries and the men who were trying to kill me. It was darker now, almost impossible to see, but I didn't let that stop me. Branches whipped my face. I didn't care. I knew I had only seconds. Time was everything now, but it seemed to be taking me too long to get close to the house.
Without breaking stride, I picked up another rock.
The leader: "I'm taking out an eye now!"
I heard Berleand shout "No!"-and then he began to shriek.
Time was up.
Still running, I used my momentum to hurl the rock toward the house. I gave the throw everything I had, nearly dislocating my shoulder. Through the darkness I saw the rock move in an upward arc. On the right side of the house-the side I was on-there was a beautiful picture window. I followed the rock's trajectory, thinking it was going to land short.
It didn't.
The rock crashed through the window, shattering it into small shards of glass. Panic erupted. It was what I had counted on. I doubled back into the woods as the armed men ran toward the house. I saw two blond teenagers-one male, one female-come toward the broken window from the inside. Part of me wondered if the girl was Carrie, but there was no time to take a second look. The men shouted something in Arabic. I didn't see what happened next. I was circling back, moving as fast as I could, using the diversion to get behind the leader.
I saw the man in the Jeep stop and get out. He ran toward the smashed window too. That was their main job here: protect the house. I had broken through their perimeter. They were scattering and trying to regroup. Confusion set in.
Staying out of sight and not wasting any time, I had managed to move back down, past my original hiding place. The leader had his back to me now, facing the house. I was maybe sixty, seventy yards away from him.
How long until help came?
Too long.
The leader was shouting out orders. Berleand was on the ground by his feet. Motionless. And worse, Berleand was silent. No more cries. No more whimpers.
Had to get to him.
I wasn't sure how. Once I stepped out from behind this tree I would be in the open and ridiculously vulnerable. But there was no choice now.
I started sprinting toward the leader.
I had moved maybe three steps when I heard someone shout out a warning. The leader turned toward me. I was still forty yards away. My legs pumped fast, but everything else slowed down. The leader too wore a green bandana around his neck, like an outlaw in an old Western. His beard was thick. He was taller than the others, maybe six two, and stocky. There was a knife in one hand, a gun in the other. He raised the gun toward me. I debated dropping to the ground or veering to the side, anything to avoid the shot, but my mind quickly sized up the situation and I realized that a sudden shift wouldn't work here. Yes, he might miss with the first bullet, but then I would be totally exposed. The second shot would certainly not miss. Plus my diversion was over. The other men were already coming back toward us. They would fire too.
I had to hope that he'd panic and miss me.
He aimed the gun. I met his eyes and saw the calm that simple moral certainty brings a man. I had no chance. I could see that now. He would not miss. And then, right before he pulled the trigger, I heard him howl in pain and saw him look down.
Berleand was biting his calf, holding on with his teeth like an angry Rottweiler.
The leader's gun hand dropped to his side, aiming at the top of Berleand's head. With a surge of adrenaline, I launched myself at the leader, arms in front of me. But before I could get there, I heard the blast and saw the gun recoil. Berleand's body jerked as I reached the leader. I wrapped my arms around the son of a bitch, kept my momentum going. As we toppled toward the ground, I positioned my forearm against the leader's nose. We landed hard, my full body weight behind the forearm. His nose exploded like a water balloon. Blood smacked me in the face. It felt warm against my skin. He cried out, but he still had a lot of fight in him. So did I. I dodged a head butt. He tried to get me in a bear hug. A fatal move. I let his arms encircle me. When he started to squeeze, I quickly snaked my arms free. Now the leader was totally vulnerable. I did not hesitate. I thought about Berleand, about how this man had made my friend suffer.