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The firing stopped.

Ali rushed to her husband and turned him over, cradling his head, wincing at the blood on his bare arms.

«Are you hit?» yelled Bernie.

«No … no, I’m all right.»

«You’re not all right! Oh, God! Look at his arms!» Ali tried to wipe the blood away with her hand.

«Leila! Find some alcohol! Iodine! Ali, you got iodine?»

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, Alice could not answer the question. Leila grabbed her shoulders and spoke harshly.

«Stop it, Ali! Stop it! Where are some bandages, some antiseptic? Johnny needs help!»

«Some spray stuff … in the pantry. Cotton, too.» She would not let go of her husband. Leila crept towards the pantry.

Bernie examined Tanner’s arms. «This isn’t bad. Just a bunch of scratches. I don’t think anything’s embedded …»

John looked up at Bernie, despising himself. «You saved my life… I don’t know what to say.»

«Kiss me on my next birthday… Good girl, Leila. Give me that stuff.» Osterman took a medicine can and held the spray steady on Tanner’s arms. «Ali, phone the police! Stay away from the window but get hold of that fat butcher you call a police captain!»

Alice reluctantly let her husband go and crawled past the kitchen sink. She reached up the side of the wall and removed the receiver.

«It’s dead.»

Leila gasped. Bernie leapt towards Ali, grabbing the phone from her hand.

«She’s right.»

John Tanner turned himself over and pressed his arms against the kitchen tile. He was all right. He could move.

«Let’s find out where we stand,» he said slowly.

«What do you mean?» asked Bernie.

«You girls stay down on the floor… Bernie, the light switch is next to the telephone. Reach up and turn it on when I count to three.»

«What are you going to do?»

«Just do as I say.»

Tanner crept to the kitchen door, by the bar, and stood up out of sight of the window. The rain, the wind, the intermittent rumble of thunder were the only sounds.

«Ready? I’m going to start counting.»

«What’s he going to do?» Ali started up, but Osterman grabbed her and held her to the floor.

«You’ve been here before, Bernie,» John said. «Infantry Manual. Heading: Night Patrols. Nothing to worry about. The odds are a thousand to one on my side.»

«Not in any book I know.»

«Shut up!… One, two, three!»

Osterman flipped the switch and the overhead kitchen light went on. Tanner leapt towards the pantry.

It came. The signal. The sign that the enemy was there.

The shot was heard, the glass shattered, and the bullet smashed into the wall, sending pieces of plaster flying. Osterman turned off the light.

On the floor, John Tanner closed his eyes and spoke quietly. «So, that’s where we stand. The microphones were a lie… Everything; a lie.»

«No! Stay back! Get back!» screamed Leila before any of them knew what she meant. She lunged, followed by Alice, across the kitchen toward the doorway.

Tanner’s children had not heard the shots outside; the sounds of the rain, the thunder, and the television set had covered them. But they’d heard the shot fired into the kitchen. Both women fell on them now, pulling them to the floor, shielding them with their bodies.

«Ali, get them into the dining room! Stay on the floor!» commanded Tanner. «Bernie, you don’t have a gun, do you?»

«Sorry, never owned one.»

«Me either. Isn’t it funny? I’ve always disapproved of anyone buying a gun. So Goddamned primitive.»

«What are we going to do?» Leila was trying to remain calm.

«We’re going to get out of here,» answered Tanner. «The shots are from the woods. Whoever is firing doesn’t know whether we have weapons or not. He’s not going to shoot from the front … at least I don’t think so. Cars pass on Orchard pretty frequently… We’ll pile into the wagon and get the hell out.»

«I’ll open the door,» said Osterman.

«You’ve been hero enough for one afternoon. It’s my turn… If we time it right, there’s no problem. The door goes up fast.»

They crept into the garage.

The children lay in the back section of the wagon between the suitcases, cramped but protected. Leila and Ali crouched on the floor behind the front seat. Osterman was at the wheel and Tanner stood by the garage door, prepared to pull it up.

«Go ahead. Start it!» He would wait until the engine was full throttle then open the door and jump into the wagon, There were no obstructions. The station wagon would clear the small Triumph and swing around easily for the spurt forward down the driveway.

«Go ahead, Bernie! For Christ’s sake, start it!»

Instead, Osterman opened his door and got out. He looked at Tanner.

«It’s dead.»

Tanner turned the ignition key on the Triumph. The motor did not respond. Osterman opened the hood of the wagon and beckoned John over. The two men looked at the motor, Tanner holding a match.

Every wire had been cut.

«Does that door open from the outside?» asked Bernie.

«Yes. Unless it’s locked.»

«Was it?»

«No.»

«Wouldn’t we have heard it open?»

«Probably not with this rain.»

«Then it’s possible someone’s in here.»

The two men looked over at the small bathroom door. It was closed. The only hiding place in the garage. «Let’s get them out of here,» whispered Tanner.

Ali, Leila, and the two children went back into the house. Bernie and John looked around the walls of the garage for any objects which might serve as weapons. Tanner took a rusty axe; Osterman, a garden fork. Both men approached the closed door.

Tanner signaled Bernie to pull it open. Tanner rushed in, thrusting the blade of the axe in front of him.

It was empty. But on the wall, splotched in black spray paint, was the Greek letter ω.

25

Tanner ordered them all into the basement. Ali and Leila took the children down the stairs, trying feebly to make a game of it. Tanner stopped Osterman at the staircase door.

«Let’s put up a few obstacles, okay?»

«You think it’s going to come to that?»

«I just don’t want to take chances.»

The two men crept below the sight-lines of the windows and pushed three heavy armchairs, one on top of another, the third on its side, against the front door. Then they crawled to each window, standing out of sight, to make sure the locks were secure.

Tanner, in the kitchen, took a flashlight and put it in his pocket. Together they moved the vinyl table against the outside door: Tanner shoved the aluminum chairs to Osterman, who packed them under the table, one chair rim braced under the doorknob.

«This is no good,» Bernie said. «You’re sealing us up. We should be figuring out how to get away!»

«Have you figured that out?»

In the dim light Osterman could see only the outline of Tanner’s body. Yet he could sense the desperation in his voice.

«No. No, I haven’t. But we’ve got to try!»

«I know. In the meantime we should take every precaution… We don’t know what’s out there. How many or where they are.»

«Let’s finish it, then.»

The two men crawled to the far end of the kitchen, beyond the pantry to the garage entrance. The outside garage door had been locked, but for additional security they propped the last kitchen chair under the knob and crept back into the hallway. They picked up their primitive weapons—the axe and the garden fork—and went down into the basement.