by Jon Gerrard
* * *
There was a narrow gap on one side of the window that the crate couldn’t block. Ramona estimated that it was large enough for a man in body armor to fit through with a little squeezing. As soon as she made her calculation, Ramona began ordering the guards through. She had no idea how the teens had managed to shut down the computer system but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. The foolish children thought they were close to escape. What they didn’t know was that all of the exits from the building had been sealed when the lockdown was triggered. There was no way out. Her guards would corner them like the vermin they were and exterminate every last one of them, powers or no powers.
The first of her men had already made it through the window and the second was forcing his way through when she heard a commotion on the other side of the wall. There were several bursts of machine gun fire then nothing. Ramona pressed her face to the narrow crack below the crate but couldn’t see anything in the darkened warehouse past the bulk of the forklift.
Then she saw motion in the corner of her eye. It took her a moment to recognize that it was one of her guards. He was on the floor scrambling backward as he tried to draw his back up side arm. His assault rifle was gone. Just as he freed the weapon she saw a low shape dart in and wrench the pistol from his grasp. The man howled and grabbed his injured hand. Then another shape lunged at him. It slammed into his chest and drove him out of her sight.
It was those damned dogs again! A sudden flurry of movement beside her caused her to look up. The guard who had been trying to squeeze through the window was now madly scrambling to push himself back. Ramona drew her own side arm and jammed the muzzle into his ribs beneath the protective vest. The man froze.
“Shoot the dogs.” There was no compromise in her voice.
The guard twisted around until he could free his rifle. Tensing his stomach muscles he brought up his weapon and took aim. He lay halfway through the window, supporting his weight on his stomach even though the pressure on his gut was making it hard to breathe.
“What is taking you so long?” Ramona demanded when he hadn’t fired after a while.
“I can’t get a clear shot. One of the dogs is right on top of Gregory.”
Ramona jabbed the muzzle of her pistol harder into his side.
“I said, shoot the dogs.”
One of the dogs had pinned Gregory to the floor and was standing on his chest, its teeth bared. It was the big dog, Zeus. That one was vicious. The other one was moving in a patrol pattern, padding in a circle around the subdued man to keep him from trying to escape. It was a tactic the dogs had been trained to use. As long as the disarmed man made no aggressive movements the dogs should just keep him pinned there. But the dogs weren’t taking commands any more. There was no telling what they would do.
Flicking off the safety, the guard took aim. “Sorry, Gregory,” he said as he slipped his finger into the trigger guard and squeezed.