“Now call off your pal out there. Do it! I want our friends safe and sound back inside the van.”
Fred stared down at the.357 Magnum. The look on his face made it clear he most definitely did not want to do as he was told. He began to turn away from the van but stopped quickly as the gun rose up and the boy in the back of the vehicle moved forward. Looking at both of them, Fred seemed to change his mind.
“Bobby! Go back in the house and lock the door. Do it now.” There was not much enthusiasm in the command.
“Daddy?” Bobby looked at his father, but his rifle never left Jeff and Megan.
Fred looked at his son, his voice deflated. “Just do it, son. Get back in the house.”
For a moment, Bobby goggled at his father, his mouth wide open and his eyes blinking rapidly. Then he started slowly moving off the porch.
Fred turned toward his son, forgetting the gun pointed at him for a moment as anger colored his face. “Robert Charles Harrington! Get your ass back in that house right this minute!” Bobby froze and stared for a moment before his eyes turned to Jeff and Megan.
The hope Jeff had that things might actually turn out okay disappeared the instant he saw the look on Bobby’s face.
The kid moved toward him. The rifle was aimed at his head and didn’t waver.
Jeff shoved Megan behind him as the boy moved closer. Bobby was within three feet, but almost all of the remaining distance was covered by the barrel of his rifle. Megan saw Jeff’s hands motioning for her to move away, to run, to do something.
Fred continued to yell at his son from where he stood next to the van, but it was clear to Jeff that Bobby had decided to take things into his own hands.
“Tell whoever’s in the van to let my father go.”
His voice was steady. Bobby kept ignoring his father and pointed the rifle at Jeff’s forehead.
Suddenly, Fred stopped yelling. He was still gawking at his son, but his face had changed. He looked afraid.
“Bobby.” Fred’s voice was as steady as he could make it, the anger gone. “Bobby, listen to me. I made a mistake, a big mistake. I…I’m sorry son.” Fred looked back into the van for a moment. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. I didn’t want to hurt anybody. You know that. I just wanted…I just wanted to find a way out of here.”
The words got Bobby’s attention. He kept the rifle pointed at Jeff, but his eyes darted to his father. He was close enough to see the fear in his dad’s eyes. His head cocked sideways, and a look of confusion passed over his face.
Just then, the passenger door of the Odyssey opened. Bobby’s eyes moved away from his father and he saw the woman who had been creeping backwards getting into the van.
The confusion was gone. Bobby shifted the rifle and moved slightly to gain a clear view of the van door behind which the woman was hiding.
Megan heard the sound of the rifle firing and an immediate thunk. She dropped to her knees behind the van door, desperately trying to shield herself. Looking up, she saw a small hole in the door. A second shot was fired, and she dove inside the van.
Jeff had heard the van door open too. He could see the expression on Bobby’s face and knew what the kid was going to do. When he moved the rifle, Jeff tried to react immediately but couldn’t. His feet felt stuck in place. The first shot jolted him, but it took seeing Bobby throw the bolt on the rifle and the empty cartridge flying free before he was able to lunge for the boy.
Bobby saw him coming and tried to level the rifle at him. The second shot went wild as they tumbled to the ground. Jeff grabbed for the weapon and got a single hand on it as Bobby’s knee came up. They landed awkwardly, with Jeff twisting to the side. The blow knocked the wind out of him, but he avoided the knee intended for his crotch. Despite the pain of the attack, he managed to keep his hand tight on the rifle, even as the boy tried to wrench it free.
* * *
When George heard the van door open behind him, he shifted, fearful it was the other gunman. That was all Fred needed. He ran toward his son as Bobby fired the first shot. George heard it as well and then saw Megan dive into the van directly above him. He was relieved it was her but was already in a panic at having lost sight of Fred. He began trying to dislodge himself from his cramped position between the two chairs. As he did, he heard the distinct sound of one of the minivan’s side doors opening in its slow, methodical way. Panic jarred him, and he began struggling even harder. He started to yell, but it was already too late.
“Jason! No!”
* * *
Fred wasn’t thinking about his lost rifle as he reached the spot where Jeff and Bobby were fighting. He lashed out with his foot and landed a grazing blow to the back of Jeff’s head, which snapped forward. Jeff crumpled to the ground. Barely conscious, he let go of the rifle and put his hands over his skull to shield it from further blows. Bobby was pushing him away, and Fred helped drag the boy out from underneath the bleeding man. Jeff rolled over onto his back, a dazed look on his face. Bobby scooted back as his father grabbed the rifle away from him.
Fred pointed the weapon down at Jeff, a sad look on his face.
“Fred?” Jeff’s eyes were blurry, and he wasn’t sure who was standing over him. He tried to prop himself up on one elbow, but dizziness claimed him, and he couldn’t manage it. “Fred, is that you?” The words were slurred, as if he were drunk.
Fred put the rifle butt up against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jeff. But no one attacks my boy.” He lined up the sights, slipped his finger into the trigger guard, and took a deep breath.
The world exploded. Jeff was trying to say “no” to the man he thought might be Fred when the man’s entire left side disappeared. He bucked forward, and a gout of blood burst from his chest. There were a couple of screams-one filled with anguish, the other more pitiful. Suddenly the man was falling.
* * *
George finally wrestled free of the captain’s chairs and was face to face with Megan.
“Give me the gun!” she shouted, and he tossed it to her on his way out the door through which Jason had just exited. He had not seen where the boy went, but he heard the shot ring out so close that it felt like his eardrums would burst. He went cold at the sound.
George stepped out of the van and saw Jason standing there, Fred’s dropped rifle in his hands, the end of the barrel smoking.
“Jason? Jason, what happened?” George felt a sickening dread wash over him as he looked past the boy. When he saw Fred’s bleeding body, he stumbled backwards.
“Oh my God, what have you done?”
He turned away from the gruesome image and looked at Jason again. The twelve year old was still staring in the direction of the man he had shot, but his eyes were blank. His legs began to wobble, and George rushed up to catch him as he let go of the rifle. Jason looked at him with dull eyes and did not seem to recognize the man with whom he had spent the last month. George suppressed a shiver and pulled the boy close, hugging him tightly as he pulled him toward the van. He heard someone starting to scream behind him.
* * *
“Dad?”
Bobby, who had been on the ground watching his father, crawled over to where Fred had fallen. The entry wound was small on his back, and he hoped it was minor. The bullet had pierced his father below the shoulder and plowed into his left lung. The teen touched the wound and pulled his fingers back as if stung.
“Daddy?” Frantically, he rolled his father over, only to discover a massive exit wound. It was hard to tell how big the hole was with all the blood pouring out. Bobby slapped his hand over it, desperately trying to staunch the flow, but Fred’s left lung had already collapsed. There were a few short wheezes as the last of the sticky liquid gushed out of his chest.