Page 107 of Lost Lake
Gabe dove toward El to take her down, but she was already dropping. He landed next to her. Brad’s moans saturated the quiet. Gabe rolled to look at him.
Blood seeped from his chest. Gabe pressed a hand on the open wound. Blood oozed around his hand and through his fingers. So much blood. Gabe pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and applied it to the wound, but it was soaked through in seconds. He pressed harder.
“Here, use this.” El held out a shirt.
Gabe glanced over to see that she’d stripped down to a T-shirt. He whispered his thanks and balled the fabric under his fingers to resume applying pressure.
She took out her phone. “No signal to call 911.”
Brad’s moans were deeper now as gunshots flew overhead. “Both of you get out of here,” he choked out. “It’s me they want, not you.”
“You could be wrong. Besides, I’m not leaving you,” Gabe said, but no way he’d let El stay. He glanced back at her. She’d drawn her weapon and sighted it in the direction the bullets were coming from.
“Go,” he said to her, his voice stronger now. “Find a signal. Get help. I’ll stay with Brad.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“You have to find a signal and call for help. Getting medics here soon is Brad’s only chance.”
As if letting her know how serious his injury was, Brad moaned again and closed his eyes.
She pressed her hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I’ll go. I love you. Don’t do anything crazy.”
“I love you too,” he said, surprised at the intensity of his feelings.
She took a long last look at Gabe and fled, staying low and darting from tree to tree.
Please, keep her safe and don’t let my brother die.
His heart in his stomach, Gabe turned back to Brad, glad to see the bleeding had significantly slowed. His only jobs right now were to keep intense pressure on the wound, keep his head on a swivel for the shooter, and pray El got safely away and help would arrive before the shooter took them all out.
Even with the midday sun shining bright, the forest was dark and cool as El remained low and out of sight, hoping the element of surprise was her key to apprehending the shooter. She picked her way through the thick trees, quietly alerting the 911 dispatcher of their location and requesting an ambulance and immediate backup.
Nearing the shooter, she ended the call and circled behind him. The only sound was dried pine needles occasionally cracking underfoot, but still, she paused to search the area for another sniper.
Finding none, she focused on their shooter kneeling in a firing stance on a nearby hill. A large man dressed in camouflage, sporting a high and tight haircut often worn by law enforcement and military, he had a phone to his ear and held an AK-47 semi-automatic rifle at his side. Obviously the reason the barrage of bullets had ended.
If she let herself pull the trigger the shootout would end now, but she would only use deadly force if she thought they were in immediate danger. Sure, the guy had an AK-47, but it wasn’t aimed at anyone right now, and he was on the phone.
She crept ahead, climbing to within ten feet of his location. He showed zero awareness of her presence so she eased even closer.
He shoved his phone into his pocket.
Was he going to move forward to ambush Brad and Gabe? She couldn’t let him. She had to act. It was now or never!
“Drop the weapon,” she yelled as she lurched closer. “Police.”
He started to turn.
She reached him and jammed her weapon into the back of his head. “I said, drop the weapon.”
He didn’t respond. She poked the tip harder into his head.
“Okay. Okay. I hear you.”
“Slowly put it down in front of you.”
He complied. She kicked the gun out of his reach then cuffed and searched him.
