blackness of the compound, the beat of the helicopter’s blades getting closer. Rebecca saw its lights less than a half-mile northwest, saw that it was hovering, shining a spotlight down onto the desert-like plain.
The van, they’ve spotted the van.
Claire saw it too, but David was looking at the warehouse-type buildings behind them as he unslung his rifle, his intense gaze taking in the layout. Rebecca could hardly see him in the pale moonlight.
“They’ll have to set down outside the fence,” he said. “Follow me, and stay close.” He jogged off into the darkness, the burr of the helicopter growing steadily behind them.
God, I hope he sees better than I can , Rebecca thought, clutching her nine-millimeter tightly, the metal cold against her numb fingers. She and Claire jogged after him as he headed for one of the dark structures, the second from the left in the line of five. Why he’d picked that one she didn’t know, but David would have a reason, he always did.
They ran into the corridor of black between the first and second building, fifteen feet of hard-packed arid sediment that stretched ahead of them some indeterminate distance. The freezing air burned into her lungs, gusting out in clouds of steam she couldn’t see. The whackawhacka sound of the ’copter drowned out their footsteps, drowned out most of what David was saying as he stopped, a door on either side of them.
“… to hide until we… can’t… back…”
Rebecca shook her head and David gave it up, turning to the left, pointing his weapon at the door of the first building. Rebecca and Claire moved behind him, Rebecca wondering what he was up to; if the people from the helicopter landed to search—which they surely would—the bullet-riddled door would give them away. It looked to be made from some high-density plastic, but wasn’t remarkable in any other way—it had a handle and keyhole rather than a card swipe. The building itself was some kind of stucco material, dirty and dusty, and no particular color that she could tell; the one behind them looked the same; there were no windows on either.
The helicopter’s searchlight was sweeping the fence at the front of the compound, its brightness piercing the cold dark like a brilliant flame. Flurries of dust were swirling up into the light, staining it, and Rebecca thought they had maybe a minute before it found them; the compound just wasn’t that big.
Bambambambambam!
Most of the noise was swallowed up by the roar of the helicopter. Even in the darkness, Rebecca could see the line of holes, the concentration of them near the handle. David stepped forward and gave the door a hard kick, then a second—and it flew inward, a gaping black hole in the wall.
The searchlight was moving back through the compound, the helicopter’s swollen belly passing almost directly overhead as it shone its beam down on the other side of the first building, the thunder of its engine and billowing clouds of dust making Rebecca feel as though Death were approaching; not death but Death, some fabled beast of merciless power and relentless intention…
David turned and grabbed her and Claire both, pushing them firmly toward the open door. As soon as they were through, he motioned for them to stop and to wait. David pulled his handgun and jogged across the open space, standing close to the second building’s door, angling his body and—
—BAM, the nine-millimeter round, louder than the rifle’s .223s but still almost lost, as the helicopter started its sweep up their row and the door blasted inward and David leapt through the opening, just as the blinding light illuminated the ground between them. A half-second later and he would have been caught in the light. The spent casings from David’s weapons were thankfully lost in the furor, spinning clouds of dust whipping up and over them and making it hard to breathe. She turned, saw that Claire had tucked her face down into her black sweatshirt, and
The van, they’ve spotted the van.
Claire saw it too, but David was looking at the warehouse-type buildings behind them as he unslung his rifle, his intense gaze taking in the layout. Rebecca could hardly see him in the pale moonlight.
“They’ll have to set down outside the fence,” he said. “Follow me, and stay close.” He jogged off into the darkness, the burr of the helicopter growing steadily behind them.
God, I hope he sees better than I can , Rebecca thought, clutching her nine-millimeter tightly, the metal cold against her numb fingers. She and Claire jogged after him as he headed for one of the dark structures, the second from the left in the line of five. Why he’d picked that one she didn’t know, but David would have a reason, he always did.
They ran into the corridor of black between the first and second building, fifteen feet of hard-packed arid sediment that stretched ahead of them some indeterminate distance. The freezing air burned into her lungs, gusting out in clouds of steam she couldn’t see. The whackawhacka sound of the ’copter drowned out their footsteps, drowned out most of what David was saying as he stopped, a door on either side of them.
“… to hide until we… can’t… back…”
Rebecca shook her head and David gave it up, turning to the left, pointing his weapon at the door of the first building. Rebecca and Claire moved behind him, Rebecca wondering what he was up to; if the people from the helicopter landed to search—which they surely would—the bullet-riddled door would give them away. It looked to be made from some high-density plastic, but wasn’t remarkable in any other way—it had a handle and keyhole rather than a card swipe. The building itself was some kind of stucco material, dirty and dusty, and no particular color that she could tell; the one behind them looked the same; there were no windows on either.
The helicopter’s searchlight was sweeping the fence at the front of the compound, its brightness piercing the cold dark like a brilliant flame. Flurries of dust were swirling up into the light, staining it, and Rebecca thought they had maybe a minute before it found them; the compound just wasn’t that big.
Bambambambambam!
Most of the noise was swallowed up by the roar of the helicopter. Even in the darkness, Rebecca could see the line of holes, the concentration of them near the handle. David stepped forward and gave the door a hard kick, then a second—and it flew inward, a gaping black hole in the wall.
The searchlight was moving back through the compound, the helicopter’s swollen belly passing almost directly overhead as it shone its beam down on the other side of the first building, the thunder of its engine and billowing clouds of dust making Rebecca feel as though Death were approaching; not death but Death, some fabled beast of merciless power and relentless intention…
David turned and grabbed her and Claire both, pushing them firmly toward the open door. As soon as they were through, he motioned for them to stop and to wait. David pulled his handgun and jogged across the open space, standing close to the second building’s door, angling his body and—
—BAM, the nine-millimeter round, louder than the rifle’s .223s but still almost lost, as the helicopter started its sweep up their row and the door blasted inward and David leapt through the opening, just as the blinding light illuminated the ground between them. A half-second later and he would have been caught in the light. The spent casings from David’s weapons were thankfully lost in the furor, spinning clouds of dust whipping up and over them and making it hard to breathe. She turned, saw that Claire had tucked her face down into her black sweatshirt, and
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