Her phone rang and she wasn’t going to answer, but saw it was Buck. She pushed the button to answer and Buck said, “A pickup and a van?”
“Bad guys.” He cut the connection and Hunter watched as Buck raised the rifle to his shoulder, firing almost immediately, and then working the bolt lightning fast and firing again. She checked the rear view mirror and saw two spider-webbed bullet holes appear in the pickup’s windshield.
The pickup skidded to a stop, with the other vehicle doing the same thing. “Good,” Hunter said.
She came in fast and hit the brakes, the pickup sliding the last twenty feet before stopping.
The boys were out and running even before the vehicle came to a complete stop.
Buck had the door propped open and they raced insi
de while he stayed on the porch, watching for trouble.
Hunter jumped out and raced by him, saying, “Get inside!”
Buck followed her into the house, closing and locking the door. He turned to face them, still carrying the rifle, his scoped 30-06 Remington. He said, “I closed up everything, even the flue on the chimney.”
“That’ll help, but I don’t know for how long. We’re not in a good way here.”
“We’ve got time to think, so let’s do that.” He turned to the boys, “You fellas hungry or thirsty?”
Lonny said, “Yes sir, thirsty. I think ‘cause I was scared.”
The other two said at the same time, “We’re thirsty, too.”
“Help yourselves in the kitchen. There’s water, tea, soda and cold cuts for sandwiches in the fridge. There may be a few cookies in the pantry if you want ‘em, too.”
They thanked him and he turned to the windows, pulling back the curtains for a look, making sure to not stand in front of it while he did. Hunter stood behind him and looked over his shoulder. He said as they watched, “I only have this rifle, my Colt Government Model .45, and a Ruger 10/22, with the ten-shot clip. Everything else is either in a hiding spot in the barn where we can’t reach right now, or in an Odessa gun shop getting worked on.”
Hunter said, “All I have is my Airweight. I don’t guess you have any .38 rounds in the house?”
He shook his head, “In the barn with the other guns.”
So she had five rounds.
Buck said, “Wait right there,” He left and returned moments later with the small .22 Ruger carbine with the four-power scope. He handed it to her, saying, “It shoots dead on at fifty yards. Loaded with long rifle hollow points.”
“Do you have any extra rounds for it?
Buck handed her a small box of .22 shells partially full and said, “Maybe a dozen rounds in there. I’ve been plinking at cans in the evenings.”
Hunter nodded, putting the box in her pocket. “This’ll help.” She glanced outside and saw the drones.
They moved in a pulsing, undulating mass that resembled the way a child’s oversized soap bubble floated when created during a mild wind. They didn’t advance, simply were there in the air forty yards from the house. One drone separated from the others and dropped lower, coming forward toward the house. It stopped and hovered six feet off the ground and about twenty feet from the front door.
The pickup and the van were half-hidden behind a cluster of boulders seventy yards away, and Hunter saw one of the men peeping his head out beside an irregularity on the boulder. He moved his head out of sight and she didn’t see anyone else looking.
Buck said, “They’re watching us through that drone, aren’t they? That’s the reason we’re not seeing them.”
“That would be my guess.”
“We could pick them off easy if they’d stick their heads out.”
“I think they know that. It’s not that far from here to the rocks.”
Buck leaned against a small, hip-high table by the window and said, “You got any ideas?”
“We can call for help.”