«Get back! Get back against the wall!»
The glass shattered and flew in all directions under the force of the outsider’s boot. The kicking continued. Mud and glass and fragments of wood came flying into the basement. Rain swept through the broken window. The six prisoners huddled by the front wall as the beam of light flashed about the floor, the opposite wall and the stairs.
What followed paralyzed them.
The barrel of a rifle appeared at the edge of the window frame and a volley of ear-shattering shots struck the floor and rear wall. Silence. Cinderblock dust whirled about the basement; in the glare of the powerful flashlight it looked like swirling clouds of stone mist. The firing began again, wildly, indiscriminately. The infantryman in Tanner told him what was happening. A second magazine had been inserted into the loading clip of an automatic rifle.
And then another rifle butt smashed the glass of the left rear window directly opposite them. A wide beam of light scanned the row of human beings against the wall. Tanner saw his wife clutching their daughter, shielding the small body with her own, and his mind cracked with fury.
He raced to the window, swinging the axe toward the shattered glass and the crouching figure behind it. The form jumped back; shots pounded into the ceiling above Tanner’s head. The shaft of light from the front window caught him now. It’s over, Tanner thought. It was going to be over for him. Instead, Bernie was swinging the garden fork at the rifle barrel, deflecting shots away from Tanner. The news director crawled back to his wife and children.
«Get over here!» he yelled, pushing them to the far wall, the garage side of the basement. Janet could not stop screaming.
Bernie grabbed his wife’s wrist and pulled her toward the basement corner. The beams of light crisscrossed each other. More shots were fired; dust filled the air; it became impossible to breathe.
The light from the rear window suddenly disappeared; the one from the front continued its awkward search. The second rifle was changing its position. And then from the far side window came another crash and the sound of breaking glass. The wide beam of light shone through again, now blinding them. Tanner shoved his wife and son toward the rear corner next to the stairs. Shots poured in; Tanner could feel the vibration as the bullets spiraled into the wall above and around him.
Crossfire!
He held the axe tightly, then he lunged forward, through the fire, fully understanding that any one bullet might end his life. But none could end it until he reached his target. Nothing could prevent that!
He reached the side window and swung the axe diagonally into it. An anguished scream followed; blood gushed through the opening. Tanner’s face and arms were covered with blood.
The rifle in the front window tried to aim in Tanner’s direction, but it was impossible. The bullets hit the floor.
Osterman rushed toward the remaining rifle, holding the garden fork at his shoulder. At the last instant he flung it through the outline of the broken glass as if it were a javelin. A cry of pain; the firing stopped.
Tanner supported himself against the wall under the window. In the flashes of lightning he could see the blood rolling down over the cinderblock.
He was alive, and that was remarkable.
He turned and went back toward his wife and children. Ali held the still screaming Janet. The boy had turned his face into the wall and was weeping uncontrollably.
«Leila! Jesus, God! Leila!» Bernie’s hysterical roar portended the worst. «Leila, where are you?»
«I’m here,» Leila said quietly. «I’m all right, darling.»
Tanner found Leila against the front wall. She had not followed his command to move.
And then Tanner saw something which struck his exhausted mind. Leila wore a large greenish brooch—he hadn’t noticed it before. He saw it clearly now, for it shone in the dark. It was iridescent, one of those mod creations sold in fashionable boutiques. It was impossible to miss in the darkness.
A dim flash of lightning lit up the wall around her. Tanner wasn’t sure but he was close to being sure: there were no bullet markings near her.
Tanner held his wife and daughter with one arm and cradled his son’s head with the other. Bernie ran to Leila and embraced her. The wail of a siren was heard through the sounds of the outside storm, carried by the blasts of wind through the smashed windows.
They remained motionless, spent beyond human endurance. Several minutes later they heard the voices and the knocking upstairs.
«Tanner! Tanner! Open the door!»
He released his wife and son and walked to the broken front window.
«We’re here. We’re here, you Goddamned filthy pricks.»
26
Tanner had seen these two patrolmen numerous times in the Village, directing traffic and cruising in radio cars, but he didn’t know their names. They had been recruited less than a year ago and were younger than Jenkins and McDermott.
Now he attacked. He pushed the first policeman violently against the hallway wall. The blood on his hands was smudged over the officer’s raincoat. The second patrolman had dashed down the basement stairs for the others.
«For Christ’s sake, let go!»
«You dirty bastard! You fucking punk! We could have been … would have been killed down there! All of us! My wife! My children! Why did you do that? You give me an answer and give it to me quick!»
«Goddamn it, let go! Do what? What answer, for God’s sake?»
«You passed this house a half hour ago! You saw the Goddamn flashlight and you beat it! You raced out of here!»
«You’re crazy! Me and Ronnie been in the north end! We got a transmission to get over here not five minutes ago. People named Scanlan reported shots …»
«Who’s in the other car? I want to know who’s in the other car!»
«If you’ll take your Goddamned hands off me I’ll go out and bring in the route sheet. I forget who—but I know where they are. They’re over on Apple Drive. There was a robbery.»
«The Cardones live on Apple Drive!»
«It wasn’t the Cardones’ house. I know that one. It was Needham. An old couple.»
Ali came into the hall from the stairs, holding Janet in her arms. The child was retching, gasping for air. Ali was crying softly, rocking her daughter back and forth in her arms.
Their son followed, his face filthy from the dust, smudged with his tears. The Ostermans were next. Bernie held on to Leila’s waist, supporting her up the stairs. He held on to her as though he would never let her go.
The second patrolman came slowly through the doorway. His expression startled the other officer.
«Holy Mary Mother of God,» he said softly. «It’s a human slaughterhouse down there… I swear to Christ I don’t see how any of ’em are alive.»
«Call MacAuliff. Get him over here.»
«The line’s dead,» said Tanner, gently leading Ali to the couch in the living room.
«I’ll go radio in.» The patrolman named Ronnie went to the front door. «He won’t believe this,» he said quietly.
The remaining patrolman got an armchair for Leila. She collapsed into it and for the first time started to weep. Bernie leaned over behind his wife and caressed her hair. Raymond crouched beside his father, in front of his mother and sister. He was so terrified he could do nothing but stare into his father’s face.
The policeman wandered toward the basement stairs. It was obvious he wanted to go down, not only out of curiosity, but because the scene in the living room was somehow so private.
The door opened and the second patrolman leaned in. «I told Mac. He picked up the radio call on his car frequency. Jesus, you should have heard him. He’s on his way.»
«How long will it be?» asked Tanner from the couch.