Suddenly, a man was running across the open ground, back towards the cabin. Madness! He must have panicked. Sure enough, the man carried no weapon. Cooper gritted his teeth, cursing the necessity of what he had to do. He drew a bead and fired. He’d guessed the man’s speed wrong and led him too much as the bullet whacked a tree a few inches in front him. A sane man would have hit the deck and sought cover, but he kept running. Cooper re-sighted, breathed, and fired again. The man fell to the ground abruptly, as if his legs had suddenly given out. The puff of fibers spilling into the air showed Cooper he had hit him squarely in the side, just above the waistline. Bitterness flooded Cooper’s mouth at shooting a fleeing, unarmed, man. That man might have made it to the cabin, been rearmed, and come back into the fight. His rationalization calmed his piqued conscience, at least for now. He gritted his teeth in renewed determination, everything for Jake. Yet, his conscience would not be silent: Even a part of your soul, Cooper? This time the answer came back with no hesitation. Yes, anything. Even that.
A fusillade of gunfire rang out from slightly behind the cabin and Cooper knew their best chance to advance and take the cabin had arrived.
He gathered his legs underneath him. Fear screamed at him to stay put and hug dirt, but his mind won.
“Charge!” Cooper yelled with encouragement from the top of his lungs, to benefit those around him.
He rose up and fired blindly, his rifle at his hip, as he ran forward. He knew his chances of hitting anyone was zero, but he hoped that bullets flying through the air would keep at least some of their enemies’ heads down. Around him, he heard similar fast-paced gunfire, as his men mimicked the tactic, just like they had discussed before the attack.
His boots pounded the ground, making the best time he could over uneven ground. His ankle cried out in pain as it was nearly turned when it slipped into a hole. He jerked it free and pressed on. He leapt over another fallen log before a bullet zinged by his right ear. He fell to the ground on reflex. In front of him, he saw a muzzle flash from the cabin. Someone was firing at him from a porthole of sorts. The rifle’s barrel poked out and eyes peered out from behind it. Cooper gave a silent prayer of thanks when he saw the barrel was quivering slightly.
A mini-fireball leapt from the muzzle and a round hurtled over him, to his right. Cooper aimed his rifle and fired a half-dozen snap shots at the porthole. He hoped to either hit the man behind it or at least scare him enough so that he’d withdraw from the position. When he peered through the smoke, the muzzle of the enemy’s rifle lay resting in the dirt. He could not tell if he had, in fact, hit the man or if he had simply pulled back and left the rifle. Cooper charged forward.
Gunfire rang out all around him. To his left, and behind him, he heard someone cry out in agony as one of his men was hit. He did not waste the time to look behind to see who it was. To his right, he heard someone yelling, “I surrender, I surrender!” Behind the cabin, he heard the racket as Huynh’s men lay down a barrage onto the cabin’s defenders. His lungs burned as he sprinted towards the cabin. His heart felt like it was going to explode. His legs were lead weights and his muscles protested his commands to lift them again and again, but he pressed on.
He was surprised when he crashed into the cabin’s log walls unscathed. His back pressed into the logs. To his right, another defender lay completely exposed to him, unaware anyone had made it this far. He was quickly dispatched.
A barrel poked out from another porthole to his left. Cooper stepped back, jammed his own rifle into the hole, and fired. A shrieking scream was the response. Those in the cabin were now in a very bad tactical situation. Up close, it was easier to shoot in than shoot out.
Cooper crashed the butt of his rifle against the door.
“Surrender and you’ll live!” He yelled, trying to get his voice to rise above the din.
“Surrender and we will let you live!” He shouted again.
Someone else had heard him from outside the cabin and the same cry was raised to those who defended the cabin on the outside. There were several seconds of confusion as shots continued to ring out, but gradually lessened to silence.
A tentative voice emerged from the cabin, “How do I know we can trust you?”
“You don’t. But, you’re going to die for sure if you don’t throw down. Like shooting fish in a barrel, you ever hear that?” Cooper yelled back inside.
Seconds passed as a hurried conversation took place inside.
“OK, we’re coming out! Hodges don’t pay us enough for this shit!”
“Come out, arms up!” Cooper instructed them loudly.
He positioned himself so that he could cover the door well. Slowly, the door edged open. The first man that came out was in his fifties, gray beard with a shemagh covering his head. Piercing blue eyes blazed from a man who did not like losing.
“You got us good, you bastard,” he said as he exited, hands up.
“Where’s my boy?”
“That sniveling brat yours? He’s inside. We didn’t hurt him,” the man responded.
Cooper snarled at the insult, but his joy at the rest of what he’d said was overwhelming. His impatience overtook him.
“Get out quickly, hands up!” Cooper yelled. A half-dozen others filed out, hands up, heads down. Outside the cabin, the surrender was proceeding apace as the defenders emerged as individuals or pairs from their defensive positions.
Once the last man was out, Cooper left them under the guard of Calvin and rushed inside the cabin.
The stench nearly overwhelmed him. He spotted two dead bodies. One on the side he had advanced from and the other on the rear of the cabin. Blood pooled with defecation on the floor near the dead men. He guessed some of the other men had urinated, or worse, in their pants as the battle unfolded. Light cascaded in from the gaps in the wooden boards that had been nailed to cover the windows.
There were two chairs in the middle of the room. Their occupants wore hoods, had gags jammed into their mouths, and were tied down. Jake and Julianne! Tears filled Cooper’s eyes as he raced to the smaller of the two figures. His rifle clattered to the ground. His pocketknife was in his hand when he got there.
He ripped the hood off of him and untied the gag in one fluid motion.
Jake’s eyes blinked. His face was dirty. Dried blood ran down from the left side of his mouth and his lip was gashed there. His eyes were puffy, from crying and lack of sleep, no doubt. At first, he shrunk backward when he saw a tall imposing figure standing over him. His eyes dilated to the light and then his eyes grew wide. His mouth moved, but no words came out. His eyes filled up and glistened, wet.
Cooper knelt to the ground and sawed at the bonds that held his arms behind him and then those against his feet. His wrists and ankles were chafed and bloody. Cooper scooped his son into his arms and lifted him from the chair. He felt like a feather in his arms. Jake pulled his head back, looking at his father’s face in disbelief, as if he was trying to convince himself that his father was truly holding him in his arms.
Cooper’s heart was torn in two when sound finally came from Jake. He wailed like a wounded animal. He sobbed deeply, his body wracking against Cooper’s hold. Relief gushed from him. The shock of rescue overwhelmed him. He held his son tightly against him, never wanting to let go. Someone else came in and tended to releasing Julianne. He saw it from the corner of his eye.