INVITING FIRE (A Sydney Rye Novel, #6) (3 page)

Screaming filled the air and I realized my own voice was adding to the cacophony as I sprinted down the hill, my mind on fire. Malina's body hit the ground and he kept firing into it, making her jerk and stutter. My foot caught on something and I flew forward, landing hard on the ground and skittering down a few feet before coming to a stop at the edge of the grass. Clumps of dirt exploded into the air around me as bullets blasted into the ground. I saw a rock, not as big as me but that would provide some cover, and crawled behind it.

The firing stopped and, gun in hand, I inched higher, peering over the rock and between the grasses. The man with the big gun was staring out at the hillside, his eyes scanning. Looking for me, for Frederica. He wasn't expecting Blue who came suddenly from the grasses to his left as the man looked right. Blue's body was low, ears pinned to his head, legs moving so fast I could barely see them.

Ten feet away and the man saw him, his eyes widened. He tried to bring the gun around in time but Blue had launched himself, hitting him on the side, his teeth sinking into the man's neck as they fell to the ground. The gun erupted. Gold casings fountained up into the air. The prisoners struggled to their feet and tried to run away, the cement pad exploding in chunks as bullets ripped into it. I ducked behind the rock, keeping my head low, eyes closed.

When the sound stopped I looked up again. Blue stood over the man, blood covering his jaws and chest. The gun was still clutched in the man's dead hands but the bullets were all gone. I stood up and walked over to him. The surviving prisoners had disappeared into the grasses. Two lay on the ground, one shot in the head and the other in the side. Malina's body was sprawled across him.

I tried to drag my eyes away from her. To concentrate on surviving instead of the shock and grief broiling inside of me. But I stared at Malina, transfixed by her face. Sunglasses gone, eyes closed, her long lashes brushing against her flawless skin. How could Malina be gone?

I turned and looked at her killer. His blood was still slowly slipping from the wound on his throat. Pressure and gravity pulling it out of him. I was glad Blue killed him. More than that I was jealous.

Frederica ran down to me, the grasses brushing at her hips. I picked up the machine gun. The barrel was smoking and I was careful not to touch it. The gun was heavy and deadly but without bullets little more than a club.

I stepped into the cinderblock structure. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust but I could see there were windows and another door on the far side of the space. It smelled like body odor and urine. Dirty bedding lined one wall. Across from it was a table laden with weapons. I walked up to one of the windows and pulled off a blanket hung across it. The sun streamed in, catching grains of dust that floated in the stuffy space.

With the sun came another smell, this one of rot and decay. I looked out the window and saw the source. A shallow grave. Three bodies in it. Hands bound, heads bloodied, they hardly looked real.

I dropped the machine gun on the table and perused the assortment. More bullets for the big gun, gold, long and thin, held together by black mesh. I'd never loaded a belt feeder before and was hoping I wouldn't need to figure it out. Next to the bullets were two silver pistols, and boxes of bullets for them. A machete and several knives completed the collection.

Blue's bark brought my attention back to the world outside. I heard a car engine. Then gunfire. Frederica stepped into the open doorway looking in at me. Her eyes were wide with fear. I stepped up next to her but couldn't see the vehicle yet. Looking at Blue I followed his gaze. They were coming up on my right. Then I saw one of the bound men running toward us. He crested the hill, his hands still tied together, head turned around looking back.

I pulled Frederica inside and called Blue to me. "Down," I told him, placing him out of the line of fire. He did as I said. The way his eyes glowed in the semi-darkness combined with the blood clotting his fur made him appear like some kind of demon. I pushed Frederica further into the space, moving toward the table at the same time. I picked up the machine gun and a belt of the bullets.

Gunfire outside. I guessed that we'd lost another captive. Frederica joined me at the table, picking up one of the guns and checking its chamber like this wasn't the first time she'd held a pistol. I showed her the machine gun and pointed to the belt of bullets. She shook her head, didn't know how to load it either.

I pulled my own gun as I heard a vehicle coming to a stop in front of the structure. I had an advantage, it was dark in here and bright out there. When the first man stepped in the doorway I shot him. He crumpled like a building being demolished, straight to the ground, a poof of dust rising up around him as he landed in front of the entrance. His body cast a lumpy shadow into the barren room.

I stepped up next to the door, motioning for Frederica to cover the other side of the entrance. But the men did not approach again. There was yelling coming from outside. I watched Frederica's face in the half light. She was frowning. She said something to me in Spanish. It was a whisper but I understood grenade.

I slid closer to the entrance, peering out the door. A man was waiting for me, his gun extended. I stepped back quickly, the bullet hit the exterior wall. I slammed the door shut. I'd managed to see that there was a pickup truck parked in front of the building with at least three men, possibly more. There was no way we were going to win with these little guns, I thought as I went back over to the table.

Picking up the machine gun again I grabbed a belt of bullets and tried to line them up with the feeder on the side. Frederica came up next to me and looked over my shoulder. She reached out and adjusted my grip so that the bullet slipped into place. I glanced at the back door, should I just grab this girl and Blue and run? Did I
need
to stay here and make these men pay?

The front door was kicked open. I turned, gun forward, Frederica at my left elbow. I pulled the trigger, no time to aim. But it wasn't necessary. The gun released a barrage of bullets. The casings flew out, one hitting Frederica so that she yelped and held her cheek, moving away from me. The bullets pitted the cinderblock walls, chunks of cement tearing loose. I stepped forward with the gun still firing. At the doorway I swung the gun from side to side. Aiming for where I'd last seen the pickup.

There were six men out there. Three on the far side of the truck, one in the bed, another two in front. They were running for cover having heard me coming. The front tires of the truck popped and the vehicle slumped forward. The man in the bed of the pickup dropped to his knees as bullets dimpled the truck's exterior.

I looked down at the machine and saw the belt of bullets getting sucked into it. I felt its power ricocheting through me, smelled the sticky scent of death and the smoke of gunfire. I released my pressure on the trigger. The man in the bed of the truck popped up, a grenade launcher on his shoulder, aimed at the building.

"Blue!" I screamed. "Run!" Then I depressed the trigger again. The pickup truck shook from my assault. I raised the gun, aiming at the man, but not before the grenade left his launcher. I saw its deadly black shape as it flew toward the building. Bullets ripped through him. He flopped around, the weapon on his shoulder tumbling down his body and hitting the bed of the pickup right before he did.

The structure behind me exploded. Jagged chunks of cinderblock cut into my arm. Black smoke blinded me. All I could hear was ringing. And then Blue was by my side, Frederica with him. She pulled on my arm but I shook her off.

Blood dripping down my arm made the gun slippery as I moved forward. Bullets whizzed by me and I opened fire in the general direction of them. The smoke began to clear. I saw the pickup truck, its hood now dented by a cinder block. A man's body was slumped against the bumper. Three more to go, I thought as I continued forward.

Blue barked and I turned, seeing another man, who appeared in the smoke like an apparition. I fired at him and he stumbled back, falling to the ground. Looking down at my gun I saw there were only a couple of bullets left. The ringing in my ears began to fade and I could hear screaming and crying and coughing.

Gunfire behind me. I turned to see Frederica, arm extended, pistol gripped tight, a dying man ten feet from her. His mouth opened and closed but either he admitted no sound or I couldn't hear it.

Two left. I scanned around me. Blue tapped my hip reminding me he was there. Frederica stepped closer. I placed my back to her and she did the same. I could feel the sweat on my skin as I pressed against her. My shirt was damp, so was hers. We moved together toward the pickup. Blue with us. My eyes burned. Frederica was shaking. I felt her spine move against mine. The girl wasn't used to the adrenaline rush.

Then I heard another cough. Blue pushed at my hip and I glanced at him and nodded. He moved forward, approaching the truck, ears perked. I followed him, slowly so that Frederica could come with me. We moved together toward the vehicle. It was painted black and riddled with bullet holes that exposed the silver body underneath. The cinder block in the middle of its hood smoked, tendrils of black rising from under the hood. The limbs of the dead man resting on the bumper looked boneless. I saw liquid pooling out from under the truck. I breathed in the scent of gasoline and stopped. Frederica bumped into me.

My boots crunched on broken bits of cinder block as I backed up slowly. Blue followed me. Holding the machine gun in one hand I pulled my pistol from its holster. The trickle of gas was flowing downhill toward me. I aimed and fired at the biggest pool of it.

The bullet thunked into the ground and the gasoline continued to pool. Putting my gun back into the holster I moved the machine gun into my left hand and held it steady, my finger ready to depress the trigger. I heard the cough again. It was coming from the far side of the truck. The wind shifted, coming from behind me and clearing the smoke obscuring the scene. I could see that the whole area was covered in debris. I didn't bother to turn back to see the destruction of the building.

I released my machete from its holster as the gasoline snaked toward me. Turning to Blue I told him to "Go out," Blue sprinted away from me, disappearing into the grasses. He would go about fifty feet and then watch for my next command. "Go with him," I said to Frederica. She didn't respond. I elbowed her and felt her head move to look at me. I motioned with my chin at where Blue had disappeared. She shook her head. "Go!" I yelled, my voice stern and angry as I backed up into her, the gasoline reaching the tip of my boots.

She moved slowly away from me. I heard the cough again and movement on the far side of the truck. Bringing my machete over my head I brought it down hard onto a piece of cinder block near the gasoline. It chipped but didn't spark. The gasoline curled around a piece of rebar and I smiled. Bringing my blade down hard onto the metal a spark shot off and landed in the gasoline. It turned blue and orange and raced toward the truck.

Turning, I ran toward Frederica who was just at the entrance to the grasses. I grabbed her elbow and pulled her behind the rock I'd used for protection before. The explosion was deafening. Metal twisted in the air, flying over our heads seemingly weightless.

One left, I thought.

T
he mayhem subsided and I peeked through the grasses. The scene was devastation. The left corner of the building was broken open, exposing the inside. The truck was a ball of flame, black smoke pouring out of it. The air reeked of burning plastic and chemicals. I couldn't say for sure how many men, if any, had been killed in the explosion but I was pretty sure I'd gotten the guy on the far side of the truck.

The bodies in front of the building were covered in dust and soot. They looked at peace compared to the ripped and torn remains of the structure and pickup. My eyes fell onto Malina's body. Sadness welled up inside of me and spread through my limbs, I felt it paralyzing me. Guilt and pain twisted, making my gut clench and teeth grind. I stole a breath, pushing my feelings down into the pit of me, where I could count on them for fuel instead of fear. I turned away and looked up the hill. Where had the other captives gone? Were they dead too? Killed by the men in the pickup, chased down and shot? Or were they still alive, running through the fields, hearts hammering in their chests, every cell in their bodies united by the instinct to survive.

Frederica began to stand but I grabbed her arm and shook my head. We didn't know who was out there or where they were. My hearing was coming back to me though. I turned and began to climb up the hill, figuring that a higher vantage point would let me see if there were any combatants‘ left on the field. I whistled as I moved and listened for Blue's approach.

Frederica was right behind me as I started up the hill. When I was almost to the top I looked back to check on her and realized she was gone. Panic seized me as I realized how off my hearing was. Blue showed up then, his fur soot-covered in addition to the blood. He looked crazy and scary.

I didn't reach out and pet him as I'd normally do and he cocked his head at me. Looking down the hill, I saw Frederica exiting the grasses. She glanced around, keeping her body low, gun still in her hand. I wanted to yell to her but didn't want to give up my position. The wind shifted and the black smoke coming off the truck drifted toward her. Frederica knelt down next to one of the bodies. Her body shuddered when she coughed, the thick smoke furling around her. I recognized the instinct that drove her out into the open. She was desperate to say goodbye. But I had lost too much and almost died too many times to take chances like that.

The smoke billowed thick around her. I saw her shape, the light color of her jeans, the stained purple shirt, move on to the next body. I looked around but didn't see anyone. They might all be dead. But then I saw him. He was coming around from the back of the building, from where the shallow grave lay. I yelled and saw Frederica look up in my direction, not at the man. I stood, pointing. I could barely make her out in the smoke as she turned.