The breeze was troubling dry leaves and branches, covering up the sound of his transit, but also making it difficult or impossible to hear the Twins’ steps.
He rose and stood before a thick swath of tall grass. He couldn’t see much: the top of the Transit, the inverted Buick.
Gazing from left to right, looking for any sign of movement that was not caused by the wind.
Left, right...
Except flanking was not their tactic.
Maybe assuming his attention would be to the sides, they went for a frontal assault.
One of them, high on the hill, began covering fire in Shaw’s direction, while the second, hunched low, like a linebacker, rushed through the tall grass, directly toward him.
In a crouch, he aimed at where the man would be, judging from the sound and the disturbed greenery.
He inhaled, exhaled leisurely, holding the firearm out.
What if somebody’s attacking you?
Even slower then...
Forty feet away, thirty-five, thirty...
Now.
Shaw fired. The Glock kicked.
The man kept coming.
Two more shots, slightly left and right of where he’d first aimed.
Neither did these hit him.
Impossible. Shaw hadn’t missed. Body armor?
The man was now only twenty feet away. He’d break from the grass into the clearing any minute. Shaw aimed at the spot where he’d exit.
By the time he realized that this wasn’t the enemy at all but the spare tire from the Transit they’d rolled his way, the wheel sped from the grass and slammed into Shaw’s chest, sending him tumbling down the hill.
91
The Twins charged forward in the wake of the tire.
Shaw had dropped the Glock under the impact. He rose to his knees, struggling to breathe and scanning for the weapon. Suit fired a shot his way and kept coming. Shaw rolled into a thicket of brush to take cover.
Jacket turned to his left, searching for Parker and Hannah. He was not far from the culvert where they lay, but with the darkness and under the camo, he was having no luck spotting them.
From his cover, Shaw scanned the ground and saw his own gun lying twenty feet away, directly in the path of cautiously approaching Suit.
Maybe he’d miss it...
But, no, the big man paused and then stepped forward fast, snagging the gun. He whispered, “Dawndue...” Like a weird birdcall. The man had said the same thing at the house just before they burned the camper to the ground.
Suit stood upright and looked around. He called, “Come on, Motorcycle Man. I have your six-shooter. Show yourself.”
Shaw noted that he had another weapon. Something strapped behind his back. Maybe one of the .223 assault rifles.
After a moment Suit called, “You left those ladies alone for my friend to find. That is a shame on you. He is not a normal fellow when it comes to that topic. Come on out and we will make it quick. I will see to it my friend does not misbehave.”