Empty Bodies 3: Deliverance (Empty Bodies Series Book 3) (18 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

David

Once downstairs, David contemplated heading out the front door. Will’s truck was now parked in the center of the yard, a straight line from the front porch, and the two groups were still trading fire. He decided to try and sneak around the back so as to not be seen.

When they arrived at the back door, only a screen door stood between them and the outside as gunshots continued to sing through the cool Autumn air. He pushed through the door and poked his head around the corner.

A line of tall bushes sat ten yards from the back door, stretching beyond the width of the large farmhouse. He scanned the area, noticing that it was clear. When he looked down to his left, he could see a pickup truck sitting behind the barn. It was Clint’s truck. He’d ridden in it himself, so he knew that it ran.

Jackpot.

“Come on,” he said, tugging on Dylan’s arm.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Disney World. Come on.”

David tightened his grip on the boy’s forearm and pulled him down the stairs. He crept toward the corner of the house, then poked his head around the wall to look out toward the firefight. Danny, Clint, and Horace hid behind the large tree, which was luckily thick enough at its base to shield all three men. Halfway between the tree and the farmhouse sat the hospital group’s truck. The cab appeared empty, but Marcus, Holly, and Will crouched down on the driver’s side, using the vehicle as a shield from oncoming gunfire. He watched Marcus peak over the bed of the truck and fire toward the hillbillies, narrowly missing Danny.

From where David stood, he could take a shot at Will. He was a damn good shot, and even with a Glock, he’d have at least a small chance of hitting him. He pointed the gun toward him, cocking the weapon in preparation. His finger itched at the trigger, one eye closed tight as he took aim. Right as he’d started to squeeze, he put the gun down and decided against taking the shot.
Not yet.

No, he had a much better idea.

***

Will

Will waited for the men to reload before peeking over the hood of the truck and shooting back. He fired off four rounds, then ducked back out of sight.
 

“Shit! Sarah!” Holly said.

The nurse had been given instructions to follow Holly’s lead out of the truck. Instead, she still lay inside, screaming as gunfire continued to fly overhead and slam against the passenger side.

“She’s gotta get out of there before they fire a round heavy enough to pierce through the panel and hit her,” Marcus said.

“Sarah,” Will said, shouting, “you’ve got to get out of the truck, now!”

The nurse continued to wail.

“Shit,” Marcus said.

Marcus turned around toward the truck and reached through the doorway. He grabbed Sarah by her ankle.

“Sarah, sweetie, you’ve got to get out of the truck.”

Will wished he’d just left Sarah back at the hospital. They desperately needed every set of hands they could have for the fight, but having the terrified nurse around was futile.

She finally stopped the constant wail, only yelling out when a heavy shot went off.

“Come on!” Marcus shouted.

Apparently confused, Sarah sat up.

“No!” Marcus called.

A single shot from a rifle sounded off, and there was a grotesque thud. Will looked into the truck just in time to see Sarah’s head splatter all over the windows inside. Her body fell forward and her arms dangled out the door. The open door blocked Will’s view of the rest of Sarah, but he could see her blood pouring down onto the ground.

Marcus turned away, moving back to his position by the rear tire.

“Goddammit!”

Will clenched his eyes shut for just a moment before he regained his focus. Somehow, the driver’s side window was still in tact. He stood in a crouched position and moved around Holly to the driver’s side front door, rising until he could look through the window.

“What can you see?” Holly asked.

“Two of the men are hiding behind that tree,” Will said. “Then there’s a shack twenty yards or so off to the left, and that big asshole is using that as cover.”

Will ducked back behind the truck.

“Did you see the girl or the Empty?” Marcus asked, yelling over the gunfire.

As soon as there was a break in the fire, Will rose again to where his eyes could just look through the window. He scanned the yard, looking for the Empty, but it had apparently disappeared. He then looked back toward the table. He could see it shaking. Apparently, whoever—or whatever—was bound there was struggling on the other side. Will ducked all the way out of view again.

“I’m not sure where the Empty went,” Will said. “Maybe they shot it, but I don’t see a body.” And the table is moving. That girl could still be alive on the other side. We’ve gotta do whatever we can to make sure we don’t hit her.”

The gunfire came to a halt.

It became so quiet that Will could hear the girl struggling on the table. He hoped that one of the men wouldn’t get tired of her writhing and shoot her.

“No one needs to get hurt,” one of the men shouted. “Put down your weapons.”

“Where’s Dylan?” Will yelled back.

“Who?”

“The boy! Where’s the boy?”

Will heard feet moving through the grass near the tree. Marcus had apparently heard it, too, as he poked his head around the back of the truck. Will rose again to look through the cab of the truck. A skinny man with long hair was making a bee-line for the large barn.

Marcus put the rifle to his shoulder and took aim. He was able to do so at an angle where the other two men couldn’t see him setting up a shot.

Will covered his ears, and Holly did the same.

The shot went off.

A yell.

Marcus withdrew the gun and retreated back to his resting position.

“Son of a bitch!” the man who’d been trying to negotiate yelled.

The two remaining men opened up fire again on the pickup truck.

There was another break in the shooting, and Will looked over to Marcus.

“Helluva shot.”

“Thanks.”

“They’ve gotta run out of ammo soon,” Holly said.

“You’d think so,” Will said. “Let’s just make sure we make our shots count.” He looked over to Holly. “Do like Marcus did and see if you can peek around the front bumper while keeping most of your body protected behind the truck. Keep an eye on the guy behind the shack and see if you can hit him. Jessica is still off in that bush somewhere, but I think they’ve forgotten about her. Make sure he doesn’t make a run for her.” Then he looked over to Marcus. “Try to keep an eye on the house in case someone is in there. It’s doubtful, because I’m sure they’d have come out by now. Other than that, set up over the top of the truck bed, and fire at whichever one of these assholes you can get a good shot at. I’m gonna stay focused on Boss Man behind the tree.”

They each took their positions, and the firefight continued.

***

Gunfire be damned, David reached the vehicle behind the barn, unscathed. He dragged Dylan over and opened the unlocked passenger side door. He pushed the boy inside.

“Stay here. I’ve got no issue putting a bullet in your back if you decide to try something funny.”

David slammed the door and hurried around to the driver’s side. He opened up the door and sat in the driver’s seat. Rummaging around for keys, he checked under the visor, in the armrest, and in the glove box. A key was nowhere to be found. It was an older model sedan, so he figured he should have no problem jump-starting it. So, he stepped out and kneeled down, leaning into the floorboard.

A short time later, the car roared to life.

David stood, about to step into the vehicle when he heard rustling in the nearby brush. He turned to face the tree-line and drew his Glock. He crept toward the sound, working to tune out the fight happening in front of the barn. He heard a weep and the plants rustled again. David moved around a bush, and saw a figure lying down, trying to hide. He cocked his gun.

It was Samuel, the preacher.

“Please, don’t hurt me. I just want to get out of here,” Samuel said, pleading.

“How the fuck did you get back here?” David asked.

The preacher put up his hands, both of them trembling.

Another noise caught David’s attention, and he turned. It sounded as if it had come from the other side of the barn.

“Please, don’t—”

The boy hit the passenger side window and yelled something from the front seat of the vehicle. Samuel narrowed his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Samuel asked.

“Shut your mouth,” David hissed at the preacher. He shook his head, then turned and crept toward the back of the barn.

He put his back up against the rear of the building, and slowly shuffled toward the corner. Shadows covered the backside of the barn, the sun starting to settle down for sleep. A cool breeze snuck through the tree-line. As he approached the corner, he heard the sound of something wiggling in the tall grass again, and whatever it was growled. He tensed, holding a strong grip on the Glock. His heart beat against his chest, and he felt the urge to destroy creep up into his gut again. This was it. He’d fulfill that need again.

Just as he started around the corner, he heard a snarl, and the creature lunged at him. It howled, diving straight at David’s arm. He never saw it coming until it was on him.

The Empty, still dragging the pole looped around its neck, sunk its teeth into David’s forearm, just above the wrist. Before it had the chance to tear away the skin, David pressed the barrel of the handgun to the thing’s temple and pulled the trigger.

He fell to the ground, gasping for air.

Shit. Oh, shit.

David sat with his back against the rear wall of the barn, pressing his palm down against the wound. His mind raced and he felt lightheaded. Footsteps approached from the brush, and he looked up to see the preacher at his side.

“Oh, no,” Samuel said.

The preacher dashed to the car, grabbing a shop towel that sat on the trunk.

“Here,” he said. Samuel wrapped the towel around David’s arm, tying it taut.

David’s heart raced faster as his mind panicked. He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless.

“Help me up,” David requested.

Samuel grabbed onto David’s good arm, and leaned down to help him to his feet. David grimaced, having to use his bitten arm to help push himself off the ground. On his feet, he headed for the driver’s side of the vehicle.

“Get in the back,” David said.

Samuel narrowed his eyes. “You can’t drive. And where will you take me?”

“We’re gonna get away from this shithole and you’re gonna fix this.”

“But, sir, I—”

David drew the Glock and aimed it at Samuel’s head. “I ain’t got nothin’ to lose. I’ll kill ya.” He loaded a round into the chamber, circling his lips with his tongue. “Now, you better jump in the back seat of this car right now, or I’ll pull this damn trigger. Don’t test me, priest.”

Hands raised, Samuel did as he was told and stepped through the back door.

David stumbled into the cab, his lightheadedness subsiding. His arm burned as if it were aflame. He tried to bury the pain in the back of his mind—along with the thought that he would soon turn into an Empty—as he shifted the column shift down into drive.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Samuel asked.

“Just lay down, preacher.”

David pressed the pedal to the floor, and the car shot around the side of the barn.

***

Will

The large man dropped to the ground behind the shack like a demolished building, as Will’s aim with the rifle had been true. The cowardly man who’d been hiding behind the tree, now left alone with his two protectors laying dead under the shadow of the branches, scampered away toward the neighboring house.

Will stepped out into the open from behind the truck and took aim at the running man.

He clenched his eye.

He fired.

Miss.

Will stepped a few yards closer, and then fired once more.

This one hit.

The man fell forward, toppling into the tall grass.

Will had looked down to reload his weapon just in case the man stood again, when he heard panting. He looked up and the girl who’d been on the table stood, looking in his direction.

“Hey,” he yelled to her.

The girl ran toward the barn.

Just as he was about to chase her, he glanced to the side as he heard the roar of an engine coming from the back of the property. He turned his head and saw another vehicle heading right for them. Will would have recognized the man driving from a mile away.

David
.

Will stepped away from the van, moving directly into the path of the oncoming vehicle. At the speed it raced toward him, he figured he had one shot. He raised the rifle flush against his shoulder, looking down the barrel and aiming at his target. For the first time, he noticed Dylan in the passenger seat. He didn’t care. There was no way he’d miss. The car moved in a straight line, bouncing up and down on the dirt, but not enough to hinder Will’s aim.