Chapter 7: Blood, Dust and the Desert
Adrenaline in the blood. Heart pounding in his ears. Thump Thump fast and steady his heart pounded away. Gabe reached back into the truck and picked up the Galil. From his bag he pulled out the Leupold reflex sight that he clipped onto the rifles attached rail. Reaching back in he grabbed the pack of magazines he’d packed before he’d left the apartment. He checked the pistols on his belt, the silencer was still awkward, that’s ok, he’d be carrying it soon enough. He checked the chamber of the rifle, loaded ready to go. Wrapping the sling around his shoulders hung the rifle against his body, pulled the silenced pistol from his belt and closed the door of the truck.
He threw the gun in his hand at the apex of his reach and checked for sight picture. The bright green night sights stood out clearly in the dark. He’d been using the silenced pistol so much lately it no longer felt awkward. He checked the magazine. Good. Kneeling he checked the knife at his calf, above the boot below the kilt. He felt his heart steady. He was ready, he’d waited, not wanting adrenaline to speed him up or slow him down.
He looked across the open desert lit by the moon and saw a glimpse of Seamus in the dark, long dark hair bouncing as he ran. “God Speed brother.”
Gabe set off, he’d get to where he needed to be fast enough. He didn’t want to be jittery when he got there. He walked quickly but kept his speed in check. Pistol in one hand, the other holding his rifle against his body so it wouldn’t smack back and forth as he moved.
Closer and closer the pops and bangs of rifle fire echoed over the hill. Gabe was walking into battle. His adreneline picked up. His heart beat increased. He could see better. Gabe knew it was the blood moving to his head, his iris’s expanding to bring in all the light available. Ahead a body. <BANG> Not body someone firing from prone. Shooting at his brother! Gabe took three steps and raised his pistol: hissCHINK! hissCHINK! hissCHINK!
The mans head bled as it fell to the ground and the rifle slid from his hands. Chunks and holes torn through him. Gabe stepped closer, didn’t want anyone alive behind him. hissCHINK! He moved the rifle away and kept his fast walk towards the house, he’d come back for it later.
Twenty more yards. Three more shooters. Several more shots from his pistol; hissCHINK! Without slowing he reached into his bag and grabbed another magazine for his pistol, pulled the empty and put it in his bag and reloaded.
Soon his brother’s truck was close and clear. He could almost see the men behind it. It was time. He slid the pistol inside his belt and moved the Galil to his shoulder.
From the hill a scream and then muzzle flashed blazed away from the house. Another scream long and familial. The men at the truck ahead turned to the hill and opened fire in what they expected was the source of the howl. Seamus! Gabe opened fire and sped up. BAM! BAM! BAM!
He started at the right and pivoted his aim from the far right of the men in front of him, firing as they fell. The first three were down. Gabe reached into his bag for another magazine, slapped the paddle and pushed in the new one. The others realized something was wrong and started to turn, too late! Gabe started firing again.
The last thing many of them saw was a large bearded wild man in a kilt and muzzle flashes from his rifle as he pulled the trigger and ended their lives!
On the hill the gunmen Seamus had set out after turned on a spotlight. Gabe dove to the edge of the truck waiting for the smack of bullets, dozens of shots but none came close to Gabe or his brother’s truck. Peering over the hood of the truck, the spotlight was facing into the hill itself and a smoking Border Patrol suburban, behind it he saw Seamus stand up, clutching at his side.
Another hail of gunfire, bullets piercing the truck, others rattling off it, glowing comets into the dark night. Seamus fell down.
“NO!!!” Gabe screamed!
Breaking from cover he opened fire on men as their own muzzle blasts gave them away, before it could be turned on him he blew out the spotlight and the man holding it. He hurried forward firing into the hillside.
“Bubba! Seamus got hit!” Gabe yelled out.
As Gabe got to the corner of the house, the side door flew open and Bubba strode out firing an FAL at the men on the hillside now scurrying for cover. The two men strode up the hillside sometimes standing upright delivering high concentrated fire. Moments later they were diving for cover behind rocks and trees. Gabe regularly grabbed magazines from his Maxpedition keeping a full magazine at the ready in his rifle. It was slow but they were making progress, driving the former officers before them.
“You forgot your oath! You forgot your promise!” Bubba yelled as he killed men he’d worked with, men he knew, friends.
Before the brothers’ onslaught they cops fell back, and fell dead. By ones, twos, and threes they died. Bullet after bullet and magazine after magazine. Sight picture, press trigger they died.
Finally Gabe and Bubba had killed all the former police before them, save one. “Ericson you bastard! You did this!” Bubba roared.
“F&%K YOU!” Ericson yelled. He pulled his arm back into a lever and pitched a grenade at their feet.
Bubba grabbed Gabe by the neck and jumped out away from the grenade pulling Gabe with him as he rolled and slide down the rocky desert hill.
Ericson turned and ran into the darkness, towards the darkened truck and safety. As he ran past the front of the truck Seamus stood out of the darkness. “No F&%K YOU!” and Seamus stabbed him in the heart breaking through sternum, bones cracked and broke beneath the large bowie knife in his hands. Blood steamed out of Ericsons chest as he died, a look of shock and pain stretched onto his face. “Now go to hell you animal!” Seamus snorted.