Private Property by Blackmore Keith C

Author:Blackmore, Keith C
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Keith C Blackmore
Published: 2016-06-23T00:00:00+00:00

7

Someone was shooting at them.

Ray untangled himself from the heap called Morg and pushed himself up, his back against the dining room wall. Wayne hunkered down in a corner of the cabin, below a smaller window.

“I didn’t hear a shot,” Ray said.

“It was a fuckin’ arrow!” Wayne blurted. “A fuckin’ arrow nearly took my eye.”

Ray gawked at the outburst before focusing upon Morg, who remained in the middle of the floor, on his back and staring at the ceiling.

“You okay?” Ray asked him.

“No.”

“Stay down then.”

That got a wry frown from the man.

Wayne hoisted himself to the windowsill and peeked out at the distant tree line, breathing into the stylish wood paneling of the cabin’s interior.

“See anything?” Ray asked.

Wayne ignored him, eyes flickering left and right. He finally dropped to the floor, cradling his wounded hand and picnic bag of digits. “Can’t see anything out there.”

“Nothing?”

“There’s no one out there. Must be in the trees.”

Ray refrained from his initial caustic reply and decided to take a look for himself. He got to his knees and inched his line of vision around the windowsill. A yellow lawn came into view, then the distant road, a dense wall of trees, and nothing else. Ray studied the picture before him and couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“He’s in the trees,” Wayne hissed through clenched teeth, back to the wall and gripping his crippled hand.

“Yeah,” Ray said and lowered his head. “Yeah.”

“Problem out there?” Morg croaked.

“Some fucktard thinks he’s Robin fuckin’ Hood.”

The weary expulsion of breath summed up what Morg thought about that. “We can’t… stay here.”

“This is bullshit,” Wayne declared and stood. He walked to the door and hesitated before wrenching it open and sticking his head out.

Ray heard the arrow that time, the unmistakable speeding sizzle of a pointed shaft a second before it cracked into the door’s frame.

Wayne jerked his head back to safety and slammed the door, bracing it with his back.

“Can’t believe this,” the goon said. “Someone’s shootin’ arrows at us.”

“Must be the owner,” Ray said.

“Don’t care who it is, but I’ll fuckin’ break his spine if I get my hands on him.”

“Where’s the shots coming from?” Morg asked.

“I didn’t see.”

“Okay,” Morg said, the pain thick in his voice. “This is what you’re going to do. Try going outside again, Wayne—”

“Fuckin’ Ray can stick his ripe ass out there,” Wayne said and stepped away from the door.

There was an anxious gap in the conversation, and Ray realized Morg was waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah, sure. Watch out.” Ray stepped by the bigger man and barely brushed shoulders.

Wayne still shoved him back three steps. “Watch where you’re fuckin’ goin’.”

“Hey!” Morg shouted, glaring at the pair. “Knock it off or by Christ you’ll never work for the Twins again.”

Resembling a hateful ghost, Wayne backed off and Ray let his breath out.

“Ray, when you’re ready,” Morg struggled, “Stick your face. Out there. And Wayne? You look. See where the shot’s comin’ from. Got it?”

Nods from both men.

“Then do it.”

Determined, Ray gripped the knob and took a mind-clearing breath.

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