His radio squawked and Danny’s voice came through: “What’s the plan, Kemosabe? We just going to sit here with our thumbs up our butts?”
“There are a couple of options,” Will said. “We could drive around, make a lot of noise, and hope someone hears us. Maybe it’ll even be Folger, in which case, well, we’d need to get his attention anyway.”
“What’s the second option?” Lara asked.
“Find a base of operations and do what we usually do. Look for supplies, survivors, and hope we find some clue to where Folger and the rest went. Chances are they came through here, but how long they stayed is the question. Or maybe they left earlier this morning, but I don’t think so. Lancing looks like it could be a decent haul in terms of supplies. I don’t think anyone moving between towns will be in too much of a hurry to abandon it.”
“There’s a Dairy Queen to our right,” Danny said through the radio. “I could go for some ice cream Blizzards about now. How about you guys?”
“You’re assuming anything you find will still be edible.”
“As the designated Captain Optimism, it’s my job to think positively.”
“I assumed as much.”
Will hadn’t gotten “much” out when he heard the very distinctive crack! of a rifle splitting the air. He twisted in his seat and looked back, past Blaine and out the rear windshield at the blue Ranger parked about two meters behind him. Danny was opening his door and hopping out with his M4A1.
He heard Danny’s voice, calm, through the radio: “Rifle just took out my rear windshield. Girls are on the floor.”
Another shot rang out and Will saw one of the back windows on Danny’s Ranger shatter. He might have also heard screams, but he couldn’t be sure because at the very same moment a third shot pierced the air and Will heard the ping! of the bullet punching through the blue Ranger’s passenger side.
Danny’s voice, through the radio: “Water tower at ten o’clock. About 150 meters.”
They heard the M4A1 firing back. Three shots. Will knew Danny wasn’t trying to hit anything. He couldn’t have hit anything over that distance, anyway. The three shots were to let the shooter know his location had been compromised. A sniper who was taking fire didn’t feel quite as free to linger with his aim.
Will grabbed his M4A1 and was reaching for his door when he heard gunfire — not from behind him this time, but from in front of him.
He threw himself into the door and dived out just as his Ranger’s windshield spiderwebbed and three bullets pierced the glass. One bullet punched through the middle of the driver’s seat and the other two went astray, but by then the second shooter was firing again, more bullets ricocheting off the hood of the Ranger, one taking out a headlight.
Will was already outside and positioned behind the open door. He looked across the street, following the trajectory of the shots, and caught sunlight reflecting off metal from the rooftop of the Wallbys, about seventy meters away and slightly to his left. He instantly fired three shots in that direction, knowing he wasn’t going to hit anything, but the shots served their purpose by sending the shooter scrambling for cover.
He glanced back into the Ranger at Lara, on the floor of the front passenger seat, looking back at him. She looked scared, but fine. Will looked into the back at Blaine with his sawed-off shotgun, crouched behind the front seat, looking back at him.
“You’re safer in there,” Will said to them.
“What if they shoot the gas tank?” Blaine asked.
“Then we’ll need to find a new car.”
Shooting a car’s gas tank put a hole in it and the gas leaked out. That was it. The car didn’t explode or catch fire like in the movies unless the bullets were incendiary rounds, which were rare — or if the shooters were using tracers, which was pointless in daylight.
He heard the sniper at the water tower fire at Danny’s Ranger again. Will didn’t have to look back to know Danny was in a good position not to get shot. At the same time, the shooter on the Wallbys rooftop found renewed courage and began pelting the street around Will, sometimes hitting the Ranger’s open door with a lucky shot. Will hadn’t fired back since those first three rounds, and neither had Danny.
Will keyed his radio: “How are the girls?”
“Girls are safe,” Danny said.
“Can you get the guy in the water tower?”
“I can’t even see him. What about your guy?”
“Wallbys rooftop across the street. I’ll need a M79 grenade launcher to hit this guy. Maybe a nuke might work, too.”
“How about a distraction?”
“You game?”
“I’ll do it,” Blaine said.
Will looked back at the big man, saw his eyes, the clenched teeth, and knew right away that an argument wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Will said instead, “You have to be fast.”
“I’ll be fast.”
“All right. Call it.”
Blaine nodded and positioned himself against his door. He gripped the handle and waited, then counted down silently before he said, “Now!” and opened the door and lunged out, racing across the road toward the Shell on the other side.
Almost instantly, bullets started flying around Blaine, peppering the street and kicking up asphalt around him. Blaine kept his head low, arms thrown over his head, the sawed-off shotgun in one hand. He was running so fast Will didn’t know if that was pure natural speed or if it was adrenaline, or maybe it was the very real fear that if he slowed down even for a split second he would die. Probably all three.
Will saw the shooter on the Wallbys make his first mistake. The man stood up on the rooftop to get a better shot at Blaine. Will peered through the red dot sight mounted on his rifle. At seventy meters, the sniper was more of a lump of black twig than an actual figure, but at least he could see the guy this time.
The shooter was concentrating on Blaine, firing round after round after him.
Will fired. He knew he had missed as soon as he squeezed the trigger. The bullet went low and struck the wall about a meter from the edge of the rooftop, directly below the shooter. The man reacted, taking his focus completely off Blaine and turning slightly, lifting his rifle to shoot in Will’s direction.
Will pushed the red dot higher, compensated for the distance, and fired again.
His second shot hit the man in the chest and the dark silhouette seemed to stagger for a moment before dropping down to the rooftop.
“One down,” Will said into the radio.
“You’re my hero,” Danny said.
“I never doubted it.”
He glanced across the road at Blaine, peering out from behind the small white building that housed the Shell. Will gave him the “A-okay” sign and saw Blaine acknowledge with one of his own, bending over at the waist to catch his breath.
“What about the water tower?” Will said into the radio.
“Still can’t see the bugger,” Danny said. “Haven’t heard from him in a while, though.”
“You think he bugged out?”
“He’s a bugger. They do tend to bug.”
Will stayed behind cover, peering out occasionally across the street, expecting someone to either replace the shooter on the Wallbys rooftop or appear somewhere else to take his chances. The only positive he could see was that besides the water tower behind them and the Wallbys in front, there weren’t a lot of other high places for a sniper to shoot from.
He looked back into the truck at Lara. She was still crouched on the floor in front of her seat, picking broken glass out of her hair. He smiled at the sight.