“It should work, at least enough to get out,” Jack answered.
“All right. Come on.” Ben nodded at Jack as he and Joel headed to the far side of the house. Ben didn’t like Jack’s answer about the window, but they were out of options. The other windows in the house would dump them out into the open or into the driveway, where there was no cover at all and they would be easily spotted.
The window they planned on using was in the laundry room on the south side of the house. It was the side of the house farthest away from the driveway and was separated from the adjacent field by only a small stretch of open yard. The window would allow them to drop down right behind the large outdoor HVAC unit. And while that wasn’t really adequate cover, it was the best option and it sure beat stepping out onto the front porch in plain sight of any potential snipers.
Ben hated to think of things this way, but in his mind, that was what they were dealing with. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was overreacting, but he’d rather err on the side of caution than risk being shot at.
“Same thing as before. Let me get outside first, and then I’ll let you know when it’s okay to follow.” Ben crouched by the window and slowly parted the curtain so he could access the sash locks. He tried the window, but it didn’t move. He wondered when Jack had last opened it. He looked through the dirty glass and cobwebs to see if he could tell what was holding it closed. It looked like it had been painted shut. Joel shuffled to the other side and helped as the two tried to lift the stubborn window together. It began to move slowly, then finally broke free and slid up and over the top sash, fighting them the whole way.
The window opened with a squeak as the wood frame rubbed the inner sash, and Ben cringed as he heard the noise and sized up the next problem. The screen looked as old as the window and was rusted into place. It wouldn’t budge when he pushed on it and he was forced to take out his pocketknife, but he paused as he was about to start prying at the edges. Why bother with all that? He plunged his Spyderco G-10 into the fiberglass screen and ran it around the metal frame swiftly. The blade slid through the screen with ease, and it fell outside in a crumpled pile under the window.
The house sat up on a concrete block foundation, with a crawl space underneath creating about a five-foot drop to the ground from the bottom of the window. Ben stuck his head out just far enough to get a quick glimpse in both directions before committing to the jump. Fortunately, the window was large enough that he could make the transition in one motion rather than having to crawl out.
When he landed behind the HVAC unit, his feet crunched in the dead grass and weeds. Ben glanced back up at Joel in the open window and held out his hand with his index finger extended, indicating for Joel to wait a bit. Ben stayed low and crept to the edge of the unit. He scanned the field directly in front of him and found himself wishing again that the farmer Jack leased the property to had grown corn instead of soybeans this year. He felt exposed but was grateful for the little bit of cover he had; it was more than he would have had on the porch.
The rows of dead, brown soybean plants were about eye level from his crouched position, and with a little effort, he could see over the tops and to the woods on the far side of the field. He scanned the edge of the wood line for any signs of movement but saw nothing. Satisfied that his immediate area was clear, he decided that it was time to move. He needed to deal with the known threat first, and that was the guy out back by the garage.
Ben’s plan was to try and get close to the intruder, then observe and listen at first. Maybe he’d be able to eavesdrop on their conversation and be able to figure out where the other guy was. He didn’t like the fact that there was one or more people out there and that he had no idea where they were hiding. But to do any of this, he had to get closer. Hopefully the guy was still there. Ben made his way to the edge of the recess where the HVAC equipment sat and motioned for Joel to drop down and join him on the ground. Ben was busy moving toward the edge of the house when he heard the grass crunch behind him. He turned back to see Joel and was glad that he had the Glock drawn and ready.
Ben made eye contact with his son and pointed past him, in the opposite direction he was headed, with two fingers. He wanted Joel to watch his back as he made his way to the corner and confirmed the man was still there. Joel understood what he meant and positioned himself so he had a good view of the road and the front of the property. Ben had used that signal many times before with Joel, but it had been when they were hunting elk or mule deer. That couldn’t have been further from what they were up to today.
Today they were hunting a different type of animal altogether, one that preyed on the weak and unprepared. These people probably knew Jack lived here alone, and they might also know that he was in poor health. In fact, they were probably counting on it, and in Ben’s eyes, that was even more despicable.
Chapter Thirteen
Ben wasn’t sure what pissed him off the most about what was going on: the fact that these two idiots, if it was the two guys in the Chevy, were trying to break into Jack’s outbuilding and steal supplies or that they had ruined what could have been an otherwise peaceful afternoon and chance for all of them to catch up on some much-needed rest.
And once again, he was nearly soaked in sweat and covered in dirt and grass from slinking along the ground. It seemed that he found himself in this position more than any other these days, and he was getting tired of it. But even worse, it wouldn’t be the last time they went through this or a situation like this.
Ben glanced back at Joel one more time before he reached the corner of the foundation, but Joel was looking the other way, as he had been asked. Ben refocused his efforts on being stealthy and went prone as he peered around the foundation. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. From here, he couldn’t see the side door on the outbuilding. He would have to make his way over to the deck and get underneath it to establish a line of sight with the door and the last place he saw the would-be thief.
He moved back from the corner and got up to his knees while moving toward Joel.
“I need to get closer. Move here after I go,” Ben whispered.
Joel nodded and followed him back to the corner. He double-checked the safety on the KSG to make sure it was off, then ran his thumb over the button just to be sure. He wasn’t familiar with the nuances of the gun yet, and he wanted to make sure he was good to go. This time, he remained on his knees as he peeked around the corner and held the shotgun at the ready, scanning the yard over the end of the barrel.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joel move into his spot as he started for the deck. Making sure to stay low and close to the foundation, he traversed the twenty-foot distance to the deck before stopping behind the wooden steps. A perimeter of lattice wrapped around the outside of the structure, but thankfully, it had fallen away in some locations, making it possible for Ben to take a position under the deck and in the shadows.
From this angle, he could clearly see the north side of the outbuilding. The man was still at the door, only now he wasn’t trying to look through the windows and was instead working the door with a crowbar around the knob and deadbolt. Ben hadn’t noticed the crowbar before now, but it clarified the reason they were here, not that there was ever any doubt.
The two-way radio was still clipped to the man’s belt as he pried the door, and Ben wondered if he had missed a conversation or if the guy had just decided to go for it on his own. A piece of brick molding popped off the doorjamb, leaving a splintered mess near the door handle as the man cursed about his lack of progress.
Ben weighed his options and glanced back toward Joel. He couldn’t see Joel now, either, which was a good thing. At least he was staying far enough behind the corner to remain hidden. He had to do something soon. The heavy-duty locks Jack had installed on the door were holding up pretty well, but they wouldn’t last forever.
The man suddenly stopped working at the door and leaned his crowbar and rifle against the side of the building. He pulled up
his T-shirt and wiped his face, exposing his large white belly. This guy wasn’t hurting for food; Ben was sure of that. In fact, he was really out of shape and dirtier than Ben or the kids had ever been in the two weeks it took them to get here. And it was clear that his effort to gain entry to the building had pushed him to his physical limit.
The man let out a loud sigh and lumbered around to the front side of the building. In a shaded area, he leaned against the building while he continued to catch his breath for a moment. He was standing a good ten feet from where he had left his rifle and the crowbar.
Ben glanced back to the corner of the house where Joel was hiding. Thankfully, he was still out of sight and well around the corner. With any luck, Joel had seen the man move to the new position and had scooted away from the edge a little.
Ben calculated the distance between him and the guy, and his mind raced as he weighed the possibility of rushing him. If he could get out from under the deck without being seen and set himself up for a clear sprint, he figured he had a pretty good chance of reaching the guy before he could make it back to his weapon. The AR-style rifle the guy had was up with a large scope, so even if he managed to grab it in time, Ben would have the advantage, since aiming through the scope at that range was useless. Of course, the guy could get a lucky shot off from the hip. He would be shooting not only at Ben but at Joel as well if he fired in this direction.
And there was the other guy. The fat man wasn’t carrying a two-way radio to talk to himself. Ben had no idea where the other guy was hiding, but he was sure he wasn’t far. He was probably somewhere just out of sight, waiting and watching for someone from the house to fight back.
Ben’s body tensed up as he began to inch toward the opening in the lattice, but he froze when the man reached for his radio.
“I can’t get in,” the fat man said into the radio, breathing heavily.
“Have you tried the crowbar?” the radio crackled back.
“What do ya think I been doing?” he replied, even more frustrated now. He pushed himself away from the building and walked toward the door and his rifle. Ben watched as his chance to rush the man faded. But that was okay; if the other guy was forced to come help him, at least Ben could get a better idea of whom they were up against.
“We’re gonna need the truck,” the fat man said.
“Have you seen anybody around there?” the radio voice came back.
“No, nothin’. Just hurry up. I’m dying out here. It’ll be worth it if there’s a couple nice-looking old trucks in here that will probably run.” The man leaned up on his tiptoes as he struggled to look through the small windows at the top of the door again.
“All right. Calm down. I’m on my way,” the voice on the radio called out and then went silent. The fat man muttered something under his breath and went back down to a normal standing position before he headed over to his previous spot in the shade. He was away from his gun again, and Ben thought about taking him out before the other guy arrived. If he knew how far away the fat man’s help was, he probably would have, but he didn’t want to lose the element of surprise and get caught in the open when the other guy came around.
And he was glad that he decided to stay put. Not more than a few seconds later, he heard the crunch of gravel and the familiar exhaust note of what sounded like the Chevy pickup. Sure enough, before long, the Chevy came around the corner of the house and pulled up in front of the outbuilding. A tall, thin man took his time climbing out of the truck as he cautiously looked toward the house and the surrounding area. He sported a pistol in a holster on his belt. Ben couldn’t make out what type of gun it was, but he could tell it was a fairly modern-looking semiautomatic pistol. He also carried a large hunting knife in a sheath on his opposite hip.
“You sure there’s nobody around?” the guy asked as he casually made his way over to where his friend was hiding from the sun.
“I haven’t seen anybody. You got any water in there?” The heavyset man wiped the sweat from his face and started for the truck.
“Yeah, there’s some on the front seat.” The tall man ignored his sweat-soaked friend and continued toward the door of the outbuilding. “Don’t drink it all,” he added. No longer surveying the area, he focused his attention through the windows at the top of the door and peered into the garage.
“Maybe the old guy finally died,” the fat man said between large gulps of water from an old jug.
“Probably. He hasn’t been looking too good lately.”
“Good, I don’t like killin’ people.”
“Get over it,” the thin man scolded. “That’s just the way it is now. We wouldn’t have that truck if we did things your way.” He shot his friend a stern look. The fat man didn’t respond and instead dropped his chin to his chest, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.
Ben wasn’t surprised at the thinner man’s comment, but it gave him chills just the same. It also confirmed his suspicions about the two, not that he needed confirmation, but it helped clear his conscience about taking action.
These two had been watching Jack’s place and waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of him. He was relieved that the men hadn’t seen him and the others arrive last night or when they were working outside earlier, but more than anything, he felt a sense of anger well up inside his chest. These lowlifes had been watching and waiting for a chance to take what they wanted, and they were clearly willing to use any means necessary to get it.
Ben hated thinking about what would have happened if he hadn’t arrived when they did. Emma and Bradley probably would’ve been forced to fend off these two on their own, given Jack’s current state of health. He shuddered at the thought of it.
Emma and Bradley were fighters and wouldn’t have made it easy for the thieves, but against two armed adults, the outcome would have been grim for his kids. Ben stared at the men in disgust as his imagination played out a couple gruesome scenarios.
“Grab the chain out of the back of the truck. We’ll pull this door off the building.” Letting himself down off the balls of his feet, the tall man backed away from the door and looked toward the truck.
“See, I told you. Lots of good stuff in there, right?”
Ben had seen enough, and he knew it was time to take action before these two pieces of trash went any further with their plans to break into the garage. But how would he do it? He thought about the fact that not only Joel, but Emma, Bradley, and the others as well, were all watching. He’d told them to stay away from the windows, but there was a good chance they were peeking out from behind a curtain at one of the rear-facing second-floor windows.
Joel and Allie were nearly eighteen and had already seen more than Ben wanted them to. Not that he had any choice in the matter. But Emma and Bradley were far too young to be exposed to this type of violence. It wasn’t fair to them, and he hated everything about this moment and what he knew he had to do. The thought of his kids watching him kill someone made him sick to his stomach, but it didn’t change the reality of the situation. Would life ever return to any type of normalcy, and if it did, would his kids be able to forget all they had seen and been through?
Ben knew the answer to that question as he bit down on his lip and prepared to make his move.
Chapter Fourteen
As the two men laid out chain between the door to the outbuilding and the truck, Ben started to make his move. He was hiding behind a support post for the deck and the thick wood lattice that wrapped around the back part of the structure. The lattice prevented him from getting a good bead on either of the guys. Ben didn’t want to take any chances.
He needed to do this quickly and accurately. There was no point in drawing this out any longer than he had to, and there was no point in trying to reason with these people, nor did he want to try. He flipped the magazine switch over to the slugs he had loaded on the left side of the KSG and moved quietly on his stomach toward the opening in the lattice. Just a few more feet and he’d be able to get on his feet and h
ave a clear shot at the men.
BOOM.
Ben was startled by the gunshot, and he instinctively dropped back down to the dirt. Jack had taken a shot from one of the second-floor windows. So much for the element of surprise. When Ben looked up, the thinner guy was on the ground, and the big guy was frozen in his tracks halfway between the truck and the garage. The remaining intruder didn’t stay still for long, though, and he started for his rifle, which was still leaning near the outbuilding door. But Ben still had a ways to go until he could get out from under the deck. Scrambling the last few feet, he emerged from his hiding spot and began to bring up the KSG and shoot.
Ben wasn’t quite in position as the man reached his rifle and began to shoulder it. But Ben was out in the open now, and the man noticed him as he crawled out from under the deck. As soon as he saw Ben, he readjusted his stance and swung the rifle in Ben’s direction. Ben’s hiding spot had put him at a serious disadvantage, and Jack’s shot had caught him off guard. He wasn’t going to get the shotgun up in time to get a shot off. The only thing he could think of at that moment was his kids and the fact that they would have to make their way to Colorado without him.
BANG… BANG!
Ben tensed up and prepared for the pain of impact, but the bullets whizzed by him. He glanced down at himself for a second, then brought the shotgun up the rest of the way to fire on the man, but he didn’t need to. The man hadn’t fired the shots—Joel had.
The intruder was now holding his chest and had dropped the rifle. The bloodstain quickly grew out from under where he clutched at his shirt. Ben spun around to see Joel standing at the corner of the house, his Glock still pointed at the guy. Ben was shocked to see Joel standing there and noticed that his face was pale white; his wide-eyed gaze looked past his dad and remained fixed on the man he had just shot.
Dark Road (Book 6): Reckoning Page 7