Adam wasn't afraid of some stupid cop or agent or whatever Mack was. He dropped down into a secured fighting position and waited for Mack to attack. “Your turn to play.”
Mack knew Adam was testing the waters to find out how tough he was. Mack didn't care. Inside his mind, all he could hear was Josh’s voice echoing. No kid deserved to be trapped in such a horrible nightmare. It was time for the monster to die. “Is that all you got, boy?” he asked Adam. “I've had worse from a street junkie.”
“Oh, I have more,” Adam hissed. He pulled out a sharp combat knife. “I'm going to carve you up. You messed with the wrong Navy Seal.”
“Shut up and fight, coward.” Mack stepped forward. “No more talking.”
“You got it,” Adam aimed the combat knife at Mack and then threw a hard front kick that forced Mack to step back. As Mack stepped back, Adam spun around and tried to slice Mack's throat with the combat knife. Mack threw his head back just as the blade sliced past his throat. He grabbed Adam's right arm with powerful hands and used his right leg to kick Adam's left leg out from under him.
Then he brought Adam’s arm down over his right knee, snapping the arm in half. A horrible cry of pain left Adam's mouth. Mack shut the man up by bringing his right knee up into his nose. Adam felt his nose shatter as his body was flung backward. Realizing that he was done for, he began crawling for his gun, using his left hand to reach for the weapon.
Mack reached down and retrieved a hidden revolver from a hidden ankle holster. He waited. Adam crawled to his gun, secured the weapon, and rolled painfully onto his back. As soon as his back hit the roof, Mack fired off a single bullet. The bullet tore through Adam's forehead like a hot knife cutting through chicken. Adam's head jerked back on his shoulders so hard that his neck nearly broke. His head dropped down onto the hot roof, landing in a shadow of death.
Mack stared at Adam for a moment and then yelled, “Another one down, Brenda!”
The sun continued to set over the corn. Mack scanned the corn closely. The fight was far from over. Escaping Green Ridge alive was going to take a miracle.
Chapter 6
“You saw men in gray uniforms?” Mack asked Josh, taking a drink of water from a plastic yellow cup.
Josh nodded his head yes. “They were standing over the bodies talking into walkie-talkies.” Josh wiped at a streak of tears.
Mack glanced at Brenda. She wiped sweat from her forehead. “Found a dead body out in the corn,” Mack informed her. “The general store is clear, too. The town is clear… for the time being. The hit team seems to be clearing out the farms before moving into town.”
“Hey, let me out, I'm freezing!” Wilson begged, his voice muffled by the thick cooler door.
Mack nodded his head. Brenda didn't object. She walked to the cooler and snatched open the door. “Out!”
Wilson hurried out. “I've been listening… Please, let me go. I don't want to die,” he begged, his teeth chattering. “I didn't want nothing to do—”
“Shut up,” Mack snapped at Wilson. “We're all getting out of this town together.”
“Put your hands behind your back,” Brenda ordered. Wilson hesitated and then did as ordered. Brenda whipped out a pair of handcuffs from the right pocket of her suit jacket and secured Wilson's hands behind his back. “Ready to move, Mack.”
Mack snatched open the back door and looked out into a dark night. The corn fields had been transformed into a sea of blackness. “Dark moon tonight,” he grunted. “Can't use any lights.”
Mack turned to Josh. “Son, stay right—” Mack heard the sound of a military-grade helicopter in th
e distance. “Into the corn! Now!”
Brenda grabbed Wilson and dashed out of the diner into the dark corn, an M-16 in her right hand. Mack scooped Josh up with his left arm, securing his own rifle in his right hand, and dashed into the corn, leaving a cursed diner sitting behind him like a screaming nightmare begging to be forgotten. As Mack ran into the corn, he eyed the dark sky. To Mack's dismay, a second helicopter approached from the opposite end of the town. The first helicopter began scanning the town with a bright spot light while the second helicopter focused on the cornfields. Midnight was still far off, but Bruce had grown impatient and ordered Rhode to attack earlier than planned.
To the right, a bright light illuminating the corn raced toward her position. There was nowhere to hide. The searchlight on Rhode’s helicopter splashed right down onto Brenda, Mack, Josh, and Wilson. “There, sir!” the searchlight operator yelled.
“Red Team. North cornfield, move!” Rhode spoke into a headphone in an excited tone. “Four targets in the corn. Let's hunt them down.”
Rhode waited until the helicopter swung back around. “Bravo Flight, let's squeeze them in. Fly out and unload the Red Team. Red Team, squeeze them in using a circular formation. Green team will connect with you.”
Mack watched as the helicopter carrying Rhode buzzed back toward town. The second helicopter slipped farther away into the corn. “They're going to squeeze us in,” he informed Brenda. “We can't run.”
“Do what you have to do, Mack,” Brenda nodded her head, remaining calm. Brenda knew how to control her emotions. When she was alone, at certain times, yes, the tears fell and the nightmares came. But when the moment required steel nerves, she could rise to the occasion.
Mack put Josh down. “Stay at my side, son. Is that clear? No matter what happens.”
Josh looked up through the darkness, spotted a rough, shadowy face, and nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”
Mack pulled out a cigarette lighter from his trench coat. “Let's set the corn on fire,” he said.