The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [152]
“Probably not!”
“You can’t bluff this one, Houseman! Drop your guns!”
Well, of course we couldn’t. No way. The thing was, time was really on our side, now. The helicopter would be coming back soon, with the cavalry. Once they landed and got into position, what with George and Hester flanking the bad guys, and me blocking the front… endgame.
It began to occur to me that me blocking the front was the only catch. They knew about George heading toward the barn, but they had to think Hester was still out front with me. Their obvious move was to take out the people blocking the front. Get in the plane. Taxi straight out of the shed, and just take off.
I began to feel there was a neon arrow pointing to the ass end of my tractor.
Stall. I had to stall.
“It’s all over!” I shouted. “Don’t get any more people hurt or killed! Surrender!”
I keep forgetting. “Surrender” to your average criminal has a lot less stigma than “surrender” does to a career military man.
“No!” He paused. “Take him out!”
What?
Somebody in the shed, I assumed Harvey Grossman, let loose with a rifle on full auto, and pretty much emptied a magazine toward me and the woodpile where Hester had been. I could see, even as I started to duck back, that some of the slugs tore into the ground between the front and rear of the tractor. Most seemed to strike the cab and the huge rear tires and rims. I was showered with tiny bits of glass, wood splinters, and sprayed with a thick liquid. For a second, I thought the viscous stuff was blood, until I realized that most farmers filled the tractor tires with oil instead of air.
I waited what seemed like forever before I screwed my courage up and hollered around the tire again.
“There’s no more reason to go on with this! Give it up!” How many ways are there to say “surrender” without saying “surrender”?
At least this time, nobody shot.
“If you don’t come out with your hands up,” hollered Gabriel, “I’m going to shoot our boy Volont!”
Where was that damned helicopter? I couldn’t think of anything else to say, and until it arrived, Gabriel had the upper hand.
“Like I said, ‘Give it up!’” Stalling, stalling …
“Harvey, start up the plane!” Gabriel stepped forward with Volont, toward the opening to the shed. They stopped, so close to the front of the barn that Volont, a few feet in ahead of Gabriel, saw George. He only glanced at him, and then looked steadfastly over in my direction. Control.
There was a little commotion inside the shed, near the plane. I more sensed it than actually saw anything. But a few seconds later, Linda Grossman emerged, hesitant, with a gun in her hand. “I’m going to the house!” she yelled. “We’re taking my daughter!”
I saw Gabriel’s lips move, but didn’t hear what he said. Linda stepped slowly into the yard area, obviously afraid of being shot any second. She was concentrating mostly on the house, and began to move more quickly the closer she got.
Shit. Now we’d have Carrie in the plane as well. No chance at all. Gabriel was just about home-free.
Just as Linda Grossman got to the porch door, she turned, looking toward Gabriel. That’s when she spotted George. That’s also when she screamed, and started to bring up her gun. Things happened very, very fast after that. In the space of two seconds…
Hester stepped out of the porch door of the Grossman house and slammed into Linda, pitching her to the ground.
Carrie stood in the door, and screamed, “Mommy!”
Gabriel knocked Volont down, and stepped toward Linda Grossman, bringing his gun around toward Hester.
I fired two rounds at Gabriel, and missed. He shifted his aim toward me.
And George stepped out from the side of the barn, and fired once. There was a flash of pinkish halo around Gabriel’s head, in the bright sunlight. He went to his knees, and pitched forward, facedown into the mud and snow. It was freaky, seeing him do that and make no attempt to break his fall. He was dead before he hit.
Hester, firmly pressing Linda Grossman’s head into the snow with her knee, pointed her gun into