Page 72 of Mountain Refuge
“Without a doubt,” I answered.
The two of us paused for a moment. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I also knew we didn’t have time.
Quickly, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Stay safe.”
“You too,” he muttered.
“Brooke, take the loft.” Corbin barked out orders. “Call the others. They might not get here in time, but they also might. Elijah, you’re here in the kitchen. Take position in the pantry and guard that back door,” he said pointing to it. “I’ve got the living room.”
“Trenton’s got the kids,” Elijah said. I could hear the slight tremor in his voice, but also the determination. “He needs a gun too.”
“I’ll get it to him,” Corbin said. “Get to your positions and call out if you need help. If we need to fall back, we fall back to the bedroom.”
I gave Elijah one last look before I ran off to the loft. The large scenic windows were both an advantage and a disadvantage. I could see everything going on at the back of the cabin—including the half dozen men circling around back through the trees—but they also provided me with no cover.
Careful to not lose track of my guns or ammo, I rushed over to my desk. I keyed the microphone, “Foxtrot-Niner-Niner-Charlie-Eight-Seven SOS. Foxtrot-Niner-Niner-Charlie-Eight-Seven SOS. Helicopter, unknown number of tangos. The kids are here! I repeat, the kids are here!” I was just barely able to keep the panic out of my voice at the last statement.
The kids…
As the first bullets began to fly downstairs destroying the home I had so painstakingly built over the past decade, I knew none of it mattered. I knocked everything off of my desk and tipped it onto its side. Using it as a barrier, I lifted my rifleand took aim.
My cabin could fall to pieces. Every item and memento I owned could be destroyed and I wouldn’t care. My only priority was protecting those kids.
I fired my first shot, knowing it was far from my last.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Elijah
What movies don’t tell you is how loud gunfights are. There’s very little that can be heard over the piercing echoes and the sounds of destruction. Glass shattered, wood splintered, metal groaned on top of the constantpop, pop, popof the gunfire.
The bad part about the noise was that I couldn’t easily call out to check on Corbin, Brooke, or to Trenton with my kids. There was no calling out for an ammo refill or to know if the scream I’d just heard was one of my people or one of theirs.
The overwhelming noise did help to hone my vision. Through all my shooting lessons Dalton, Corbin, and Brooke had put me through, I never got the tunnel vision they always talked about. I saw my target, but it wasn’t all I saw.
It was all I saw now.
The back kitchen door came bursting open seconds after I heard gunfire coming from the living room and upstairs in the loft. It was completely and utterly terrifying to know that my best friend and the love of my life were both engaged in battle to protect me and my kids. However, the moment that door came crashing off of its hinges, it was like my eyes and ears createdblinders. All I saw and heard were the men trying to enter the cabin.
I had the kitchen table tipped onto its side to help shield me as I crouched low against the pantry doorframe. I had three semi-automatic handguns with only one spare clip each. Brooke had seen a half-dozen coming off of the helicopter, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more. I had to be careful with my ammo.
Both men who entered were dressed in military fatigues and carrying automatic rifles. Unlike Brooke, I did not know the names of the different types of weapons, but they looked like what movies called an AK-47 with the long clips hanging down. They had on black boots and helmets.
I knew from Corbin’s hunting lessons to aim for the arteries. Hitting the stomach was definitely easier, but it would not bring down a larger animal. With the men’s armor, it was useless to aim for their torsos anyway. I didn’t know a lot about guns but I knew I did not have armor-piercing bullets.
I was also not a good enough shot to aim for their head and hit my target without wasting bullets.
I went for their thighs and knees. As soon as I fired, the two of them scattered. My shot went wide and ended up hitting the metal of the stove. I ducked down as the table immediately took fire. I had no idea how long it would hold.
With the continuous array of bullets coming at me, I couldn’t lift my head to shoot. I knew I could wait for them to reload, but that wouldn’t stop them from approaching me and slaughtering me where I crouched.
I blindly lifted my gun over the top of the table and pulled the trigger. Their gunshots paused. I took a chance to peek around the side of the table.
One was down on a knee by the backdoor while the other was running for the living room.
I didn’t hesitate. I stood, revealing myself as a target, and shot directly at the second man’s back. Just as he fell, I felt a piercing pain in my left shoulder.
Crying out, I fell back down behind the table.
