The result wasn’t pretty, although she barely noticed since she’d already started moving, rolling away as he fell on top of her. She yanked her legs free of his dead weight and stumbled to her feet, eyes searching for the only enemy currently holding a ranged weapon: the man with the crossbow who’d shot Brandon. She fired at him until he went down, too.
Then she turned and bolted, her sprint fueled by wild terror and desperation at what awaited her if she was too slow. Guilt churned in her gut at leaving her patrol mates behind to the bandits, but she knew there was nothing she could do for them now. At least by the smallest mercy their deaths had been fairly quick.
Behind her she heard shouts and howls as the nearest bandits tore after her in close pursuit. She stumbled and nearly fell, and by sheer luck at that exact moment a thrown chunk of rock passed just over her head, missing her by inches. In an instant she regained her balance and started sprinting again, pushing for every ounce of speed.
Part of her wanted to turn and unload the rest of her magazine at her pursuers to slow them down, but the rational part of her brain clawing for control through her panic knew that would be counterproductive. Even if she took down half of them the rest would swarm her before she could get away again, and after the fight she’d put up they’d make her suffer even worse for it.
She desperately wanted to live, but she’d fight with everything she had to avoid going through that hell again. Never again.
All she could do was keep sprinting flat out, listening to the snarls and pants seemingly right in her ear from her closest pursuers, and hope she was faster than them. Her lungs burned, her throat was raw, her legs felt rubbery and she stumbled more and more often, but somehow the expected hands grasping at her pack or weight tackling her from behind never came.
If there was one thing going for her it was that the men chasing her were weak from hunger. They didn’t have the strength to keep up their pursuit for long, and she was able to outpace them. The noise from right behind faded until she was sure she had a lead of at least ten feet, and she risked a glance over her shoulder to see that the bandits had finally come to a panting halt.
The danger wasn’t over then, unfortunately, since some of the bandits had been smart enough to strip the weapons from her fellow defenders rather than chasing her on foot. She could hear the crack of gunfire from behind her, and she added a few zigs and zags as she kept staggering in the direction of Aspen Hill and safety. From training she knew a moving target was incredibly difficult to hit at any range, and she doubted any of those men had serious training with firearms. But at the same time her patrol had been carrying M16s and AK-47s and she could hear the bandits unloading entire magazines at her. She even heard the alarming whine of a few shots passing far too close.
But finally, practically on her hands and knees for the few final feet, she made it up and over a rise, and with it between her and the shots coming from behind she finally felt safe enough to slow for a moment.
Sobbing, both from sucking in desperate lungfuls of air as well as from grief for her friends and shock at what she’d just narrowly escaped, she yanked at the radio clipped to her belt until it came free, raising it with a hand shaking so hard she nearly smashed it into her teeth. “Trev, my team’s been attacked!”
Matt jumped slightly as Trev, who’d been walking along beside him, suddenly made a strangled noise and stumbled over to lean against the nearest house, face ashen as he talked quickly into his headset.
Whatever his friend was hearing had to be on the defender channel. Matt was currently on the town channel waiting for word from Gutierrez, who’d gone to round up the hunters who kept insisting on going out so he could have a word with them.
When he shifted channels all he heard on the defender line was a confused babble of panicked voices, Deb’s loudest and least coherent among them. Then Trev burst away from the wall he was leaning against and sprinted north out of town, awkwardly unslinging his rifle to hold it as he ran.
“What’s going on?” Matt yelled after him.
His friend didn’t even slow. “Radio!” he shouted over his shoulder, nearly tripping on a buried rock. Even that didn’t check his pace, and he was soon a hundred yards away and still sprinting flat out.
Matt toggled his mic, speaking firmly to cut through the chatter. “Matt here. What’s going on?”
The radio crackled with the static of an incoming transmission, but all Matt heard was heavy breathing. Then Deb sucked in a noisy breath and he realized the brown-haired woman was fighting intense emotions as well as being seriously winded. “My patrol… attacked two… northwest of town,” she panted, “just past… one rise close… valley’s western ridge. I got away but-but…” she trailed off into sobs, finally forcing out a few final words. “I’m the only one. I need help.”
Considering Trev was currently running off on his own, that left Matt to organize an actual team to counter this threat. Not that he blamed his friend. He swapped over to the town channel. “Gutierrez?” No answer: the man had probably already swapped. Matt switched back to the defender channel. “Gutierrez?”
“Gathering a team to kill the SOBs who murdered Brandon and the others,” the former soldier replied tersely. “As a start. Find who you can and meet us at the edge of town.”
Matt turned and ran for the shelter group’s cabins. He needed his body armor and other gear, and he’d pick up Terry to check on Deb and April to offer a comforting female presence, as well as Lewis, Jane, and whoever else was handy there.
Even focusing on his immediate goals wasn’t enough to take his mind from the ramifications. Deb was the only one who’d got away, which meant the rest of her patrol had been killed. Four good men, friends, ambushed and murdered while trying to protect their home.
He could understand why Gutierrez wanted to murder the men who’d killed his friend, and anyone else who got in his way. But as Mayor Matt couldn’t afford to lose control of the situation and allow the town to cross the line in retaliation for this atrocity.
Although those who’d killed his people would see justice.
Trev didn’t think he’d ever sprinted a mile in better time, and mostly uphill to boot.
It wasn’t rational, since the entire time common sense had been yammering away at the back of his mind that he’d still have another mile to go after he collapsed from exhaustion. That or if he was in good enough shape to make it the entire way he’d be too exhausted to help Deb at the end of it. But he couldn’t help himself.
He hadn’t wanted to take a break from seeing Deb because he’d miss her, but just as much he’d worried something like this would happen. Her work volunteering to defend the town wasn’t exactly safe, as today’s events proved, and one of the main comforts of having her in that role before all this was that he was usually with her.
Only now he wasn’t, when she needed him most.
His panicked mind had failed to account for the fact that Deb would also be running towards him, so he was just catching his second wind when he crested the western ridge of the valley and saw her not far away. At the sight of him she collapsed in relief, curling up on the ground sobbing.
As Trev closed the distance to her he searched the area for potential threats. None were visible, but as soon as he reached Deb he still crouched on her northern side to shield her with his body. He really wanted to throw his arms around her, as much at his own relief at seeing she was okay as to reassure her. And from the way she rolled towards him and clung to his shins she probably wanted that reassurance too. Then again, this sort of traumatic event might trigger previous trauma and touching her would be the worst thing he could do.