Fighting Rough

20

Georgia hated being dragged along like that. It was a blow to her psychology to not be able to run under her own steam. What really bothered her was that it put the others in danger. More danger than they needed right now. Things were bad enough.

And they were about to get worse.

“Let’s hope Max knows what he’s doing,” said Cynthia.

Georgia hadn’t yet gotten used to Cynthia’s temperament. It was a strange one, that was for sure, always making comments at the worst possible times.

They’d thrown themselves down behind the trees. Turning her head, Georgia could see figures approaching. The figures kept in the shadows, their silhouettes only appearing occasionally.

Georgia gave Cynthia the sign to shut up. Hopefully she’d listen.

Georgia may not have been able to walk. She may not have been able to run. But she could shoot. She’d regained most of her strength. It was only a matter of time before she’d was running again.

For now, she could shoot. That was all she needed to do.

She may have just had a hunting rifle. But she knew how to use it.

Georgia understood why Max had split up the groups like this. It was the most practical thing to do. But still, Georgia was stuck with people who were definitely not experts. In some sense, they barely knew what they were doing. In comparison, at least, to someone who had spent their whole life with guns.

Any minute now, it’d be time. They’d have to take out a lot of them right away. They couldn’t let themselves get stuck in a firefight. Otherwise there’d be no way out.

Georgia counted the shadows, trying to make sense of how many men there were.

Georgia glanced back at Sadie. She was worried about her. Her daughter couldn’t get shot. She just couldn’t. In a way, it was better that James was with Max. Georgia still worried about him, but it was a little less direct this way.

If both her kids were here, Georgia would have been able to fight less effectively. She would have been too worried. She’d denied it to herself for a long time, telling herself that her kids only made her fight harder, that it only made her tougher. But it wasn’t the truth. She realized that now, as she looked as Sadie’s small form there in the semi-darkness. Sadie was just a child. She didn’t deserve this.

“Sadie,” hissed Georgia. “Get back farther.”

“This is a good position, Mom,” hissed Sadie back, staying where she was.

“Shh,” hissed Cynthia. “You two want to get us all killed?”

John remained silent, his gaze aimed at the men slinking through the shadows.

“They’re almost into position,” whispered Georgia.

“Shouldn’t we open fire now?” hissed Cynthia.

“No. We wait until they get into position.”

“But why, wouldn’t it be better…”

“Just do it,” said Georgia. She had little patience now for questions. She was in charge, and they were going to follow her plan, whether or not they liked it.

Georgia was watching the men carefully. There were three of them.

Three…

Something seemed strange about that.

Georgia could have sworn she’d counted four shadows earlier.

Maybe it was a trick of the light. Maybe it was a trick of memory.

Or maybe one had snuck off somewhere.

The three men were close to the camp, kneeling down, getting ready. They were waiting for something, something that didn’t seem to be coming.

Suddenly, gunfire rang out in the distance. It was Max, hopefully doing well. Thoughts of James flashed through Georgia’s mind. Better to ignore it.

“OK!” hissed Georgia. “Now!”

Georgia already had her target in her sights. She squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked. The recoil always felt good to her, comforting rather than harsh.

A perfect shot to the head.

The rifles rang out around her.

The other two men fell. They hadn’t even had the chance to return fire.

“Keep an eye on our surroundings,” hissed Georgia.

She had the fallen men in her scope. One was dead. One wasn’t.

Georgia didn’t know if it was an act of kindness, putting him out of his misery, or whether it was a purely practical measure.

She didn’t bother figuring it out. She pulled the trigger.

“We got them all!” whispered Cynthia, sounding excited. But thankfully not excited and triumphant enough to speak at full volume.

Georgia was more cautious in her approach. “Keep your eyes peeled,” said Georgia. “There could be more…”

“Why? There were three, right?”

“I think so…” said Georgia. Maybe that fourth shadow had just been her imagination. A trick of her mind and nothing more.

“I think I saw a fourth,” whispered John, finally speaking, his deep male voice seeming to rumble across the cold air.

Shit. If John had seen one, too…

“I think you’re right, John,” said Georgia. “I think I saw another one too. A fourth.”

“This is just what we need,” muttered Cynthia.

“Mom,” said Sadie. “What do we do?” Her voice sounded scared, becoming something of a high-pitched whimper.

The distant gunfire continued, bursts of it roaring across the cold night. Max’s fight hadn’t gone as easily as theirs had.

Although maybe theirs wasn’t over yet.

“Max needs help. I can’t make it quickly enough…”

“I’ll go,” said John, interrupting her. He was already standing up.

Georgia didn’t know what to do. Should she send just John alone? She couldn’t send Sadie into a situation like that. But if she sent Cynthia with him, it would just be herself and Sadie left behind, left to face the shadow that had disappeared, slinking away into the night to save his own skin, possibly more dangerous than all the others.

Normally, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But Georgia had to remember she was injured. She wasn’t completely herself. Not physically. And maybe not mentally either. She knew she’d become more cautious, maybe more timid. The injury had gotten to her. Everything had gotten to her. There simply wasn’t a way to be through what they’d been through and not come out affected.

And it wasn’t like it ever ended.

It was one life or death situation after another. There was no way it couldn’t affect a person. The trick was to not let it crush you, let it pummel you relentlessly into the dirt and mud.

Georgia needed Cynthia there.

She looked at John. “Go,” she said.

“I’m going too,” said Cynthia, standing up.

“You’re staying here,” said Georgia.

“But…”

“We need you,” said Georgia.

She could have given her a strict order. She could have dared her to disobey. But the truth worked better.

John looked at Cynthia, and then darted off through the trees, heading towards his brother.