looked in the mirror at Jen to make sure she was doing okay. I didn't see anyone near us at the moment, so I slowed and stopped when I got within a half a block from the intersection with Water Street; that put me a block and a half from the crowd. I wanted to watch them a little first, before we took a detour around them.
Just like at the blue house, there were some that just stood and stared. Their interest was directed to one of the buildings on the back side of the courthouse. There were others that were very active. They behaved much like wild animals--chasing, clawing and biting each other. A dark-haired woman ran out of the crowd, dressed only in a pink sweater and one gray sock. Her left knee was bloody. A man ran out after her, tackled her and pushed her face to the pavement. He forced her legs open.
I'd seen enough.
I pulled down Water Street and planned to circle around the old, and now defunct, Barret Clothing Mill up 5th Street, away from the crowd.
When I looked in my mirror, the red and white pickup shot past, continuing toward the court square.
“Dammit, Jen! What are you doing?"
I slammed on the brakes, and put the minivan in reverse, and backed out into the intersection. Everybody looked at us, even the slow ones. A few had already started toward us. Jen ran the pickup over the curb and skidded to a stop on the sidewalk almost to the corner, opposite the crowd. I turned to follow her.
Her door opened.
"No, Jen," I whispered. "Oh, no no no...."
She stepped out in the street and pulled the shotgun to her shoulder. The end of the weapon bounced up with the recoil, and the side of the rapist's head blew apart. There was a collective gasp and the entire crowd jerked in unison at the sound of the gun, paused, and then charged her en masse . Their snarls and whines all together went up like a roar. She slipped back into the truck. The backup lights came on when she put the truck in reverse, and then the beasts engulfed her. There were so many, I couldn't even see the truck anymore.
I got on my horn. A few of them looked up, they didn't leave the pickup. I didn't want her to panic and do something stupid like shoot at them through the glass.
"Son of a bitch!"
I pulled the minivan around so I was broadside to them and grabbed the rifle. I let down the window and aimed at a head in the crowd near where the truck was buried. I couldn't pull the trigger. I took a deep breath and pointed at the knee of one on the perimeter. I squeezed.
The sound was nothing like the shotgun. It was more like a crack!
A man buckled and fell to the ground, but the crowd still didn't move toward me.
The rifle was a semi-automatic. I didn't have to do anything but pull the trigger. I squeezed it again. A woman arched over grabbing her side near her kidney and stumbled away from the crowd. I fired three times in a row, not aiming. I saw two people drop. It became easier when I didn't think about it.
I looked to my right. I had new group headed my way from the south.
Two more shots, and the mob finally became interested in me. They cleared up for her in front first, and when I saw her truck lurch forward, then pull away across a corner lot and down South Street, I mashed the gas and headed down Water Street. We were running parallel to each other, and we both had a group chasing us. We crossed over 5th simultaneously a block apart and sped down to the next cross street, which was 2nd. By then, the crowd was far enough behind us not to matter. She stopped at the intersection and waited for me to turn north and pull back in front of her. When I got to the intersection of South and 2nd where she sat idling, I stopped in front of her, perpendicular to her vehicle.
I glared at her. Her eyes narrowed. This time, I flipped her the bird, and motioned for her to get a move on, then pulled away.
Our
Just like at the blue house, there were some that just stood and stared. Their interest was directed to one of the buildings on the back side of the courthouse. There were others that were very active. They behaved much like wild animals--chasing, clawing and biting each other. A dark-haired woman ran out of the crowd, dressed only in a pink sweater and one gray sock. Her left knee was bloody. A man ran out after her, tackled her and pushed her face to the pavement. He forced her legs open.
I'd seen enough.
I pulled down Water Street and planned to circle around the old, and now defunct, Barret Clothing Mill up 5th Street, away from the crowd.
When I looked in my mirror, the red and white pickup shot past, continuing toward the court square.
“Dammit, Jen! What are you doing?"
I slammed on the brakes, and put the minivan in reverse, and backed out into the intersection. Everybody looked at us, even the slow ones. A few had already started toward us. Jen ran the pickup over the curb and skidded to a stop on the sidewalk almost to the corner, opposite the crowd. I turned to follow her.
Her door opened.
"No, Jen," I whispered. "Oh, no no no...."
She stepped out in the street and pulled the shotgun to her shoulder. The end of the weapon bounced up with the recoil, and the side of the rapist's head blew apart. There was a collective gasp and the entire crowd jerked in unison at the sound of the gun, paused, and then charged her en masse . Their snarls and whines all together went up like a roar. She slipped back into the truck. The backup lights came on when she put the truck in reverse, and then the beasts engulfed her. There were so many, I couldn't even see the truck anymore.
I got on my horn. A few of them looked up, they didn't leave the pickup. I didn't want her to panic and do something stupid like shoot at them through the glass.
"Son of a bitch!"
I pulled the minivan around so I was broadside to them and grabbed the rifle. I let down the window and aimed at a head in the crowd near where the truck was buried. I couldn't pull the trigger. I took a deep breath and pointed at the knee of one on the perimeter. I squeezed.
The sound was nothing like the shotgun. It was more like a crack!
A man buckled and fell to the ground, but the crowd still didn't move toward me.
The rifle was a semi-automatic. I didn't have to do anything but pull the trigger. I squeezed it again. A woman arched over grabbing her side near her kidney and stumbled away from the crowd. I fired three times in a row, not aiming. I saw two people drop. It became easier when I didn't think about it.
I looked to my right. I had new group headed my way from the south.
Two more shots, and the mob finally became interested in me. They cleared up for her in front first, and when I saw her truck lurch forward, then pull away across a corner lot and down South Street, I mashed the gas and headed down Water Street. We were running parallel to each other, and we both had a group chasing us. We crossed over 5th simultaneously a block apart and sped down to the next cross street, which was 2nd. By then, the crowd was far enough behind us not to matter. She stopped at the intersection and waited for me to turn north and pull back in front of her. When I got to the intersection of South and 2nd where she sat idling, I stopped in front of her, perpendicular to her vehicle.
I glared at her. Her eyes narrowed. This time, I flipped her the bird, and motioned for her to get a move on, then pulled away.
Our
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