James Chase - Figure It Out for Yourself

‘You better keep an eye on yourself,’ Joe said sarcastically. ‘Don’t expect flowers for your funeral.’

I went into the inner room.

Mary held a flashlight in her hand, and as I came in she swung the beam to a short ladder that led to a trap door in the roof.

‘You’d better not go up there,’ she said. ‘They’re certain to see you.’

‘Hey, you two; give me some covering fire,’ I called into the outer room. ‘I’m going up on the roof.’

‘Hope it keeps fine for you,’ Mac said and laughed.

They began firing down into the valley. I waited, listening, but there was no answering fire.

‘I wonder what they’re playing at,’ I muttered. ‘Well, here goes. Let’s see what’s up there.’

I mounted the ladder and very cautiously lifted the trap-door. I slid it to one side and peered around the flat roof that spread out before me.

Moonlight fell directly on it, and it was nearly as light as day up there.

Above me the hill went up steeply, offering little foothold and not much cover. To try and scale the hill from the roof in this light would be asking for trouble. The only chance would be to wait until the moon moved round and the hill face was in the shadow. I didn’t know if we had the time wait.

I slid down the ladder again.

‘Not much good. A rope won’t help. It’s too light. In another hour it might be done, but not now.’

‘In another hour we’ll be pushing up the daisies,’ Joe said cheerfully from the other room.

‘How about some coffee?’ I suggested to Mary. ‘We might be stuck here for some time. I’ll go back and keep watch while you get it’

I returned to the outer room.

Mac was chewing an unlit cigarette, staring down into the valley. Joe sat on the edge of a chair, and peered around the window-frame.

‘You didn’t see a girl in the quarry, did you?’ I asked Mac.

‘No-why?’

‘I had a girl with me when you spotted me. I sent her for the cops.’

‘That’s not going to help us. You’d never hear gunfire out of the valley. I don’t know how it is, but it’s a fact. Unless they come here to look for us, they won’t know a battle’s going on,’ Joe said. ‘Besides, it would hurt my pride to be rescued by a cop.’

‘I reckon I could sink my pride,’ Mac said and laughed. I’d sooner be pinched by a cop then fall into Barratt’s hands.’

‘Think it’s safe to smoke?’ Joe asked.

‘Go and sit on the floor if you must smoke,’ I said. ‘I’ll take your place.’

‘You’re a pal, pally. I’m glad I didn’t shoot you.’

‘So am I.’

He lit a cigarette while he sat on the floor.

‘These punks don’t show much initiative, do they?’ Mac said. ‘Maybe they’ve scrammed.’

‘Go out there and find out,’ Joe said. ‘I bet they’re cooking up something.’

I had an idea they were, too. So long as the floor of the valley lay in the moonlight, I could understand them not showing themselves, but, once the light had shifted, they would probably make a rush.

Mary came in with cups of coffee. Joe laced his from a pint flask he hauled out of his pocket

‘Anyone want rum?’ he asked, waving the flask.

Mac helped himself, handed the flask to me, but I shook my head.

‘Just coffee for me.’

‘Fancy your chances getting out of here?’ Joe asked as he sucked up the rum and coffee noisily.

‘I don’t see why not.’

‘Shut up, Joe,’ Mac said curtly. ‘You’re creating despair and depression. No one would miss you if you were shot.’

‘That’s a lie!’ Joe said hotly. ‘My old mother would.’ He got to his feet to cross the room for another cup of coffee. ‘I’ve a flock of judies too. They’d all miss me.’

There was a sudden, steady rattle of gunfire. One of the distant bushes seemed to burst into flame as a Thompson-gun chattered its song of death.

‘Down!’ I bawled, and flung myself flat.

Joe took two lurching steps to the door, turned slowly on his heels and dropped.

No one moved. The Thompson continued to rattle. Slugs whined through the windows, cut across the door, hammered into the opposite wall. Then the Thompson stopped as suddenly as it began.

‘Watch out,’ I said to Mac, and crawled over to Joe. The burst of gunfire had caught him across the chest. It had ripped him open the way you rip open a can with a can opener.

‘Is he dead?’ Mary asked, and by the shake in her voice I knew she was badly shocked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, I hope I’ll get out of this so I can tell his Ma,’ Mac said. ‘I bet she’ll hang out flags. She always hated the punk.’

‘Don’t show yourselves in front of the windows and keep down,’ I said, crawling over to where

Mary knelt by one of the windows.

‘You bet,’ Mac said. ‘I thought that son of a bitch was up to something.’

Then the Thompson started grinding again. Slugs zipped through the room.

‘Look out! They’re coming!’ Mac bawled.

I could see figures running into the moonlight. They swerved to right and left, making it impossible to hold the rifle sights on them. Mac brought one down, but the other five got across the floor of the valley and disappeared into the bushes.

‘Not so good,’ I said, ducking down as slugs sent splinters from the window frame. ‘They’re over now. They can get right up to the door without us seeing them.’

‘They can’t get in,’ Mac said, ‘without getting shot up. Where’s Joe’s rum? I feel like another swig.’

He crawled over to Joe, turned him over and fetched out the flask from Joe’s hip pocket. As the Thompson stopped grinding, I raised my rifle and fired three quick shots into the bushes where the gun flashes had been.

There was a sudden movement. A man sprang out, holding the Thompson and went crashing down on his face.

‘Nice shooting,’ Mac said, who had returned to the window ‘Now if any of those rats want that

Tommy they’ll have to come out into the open for it’

Gunfire banged right by us, making us start back Slugs smashed through the door.

‘They’re right outside,’ I whispered to Mary. ‘Go into th e other room.’

‘Why?’ She peered at me, her eyes large in her white face.

‘Get in there and don’t ask questions.’

She went, crawling on hands and knees.

‘Got an automatic on you?’ I asked Mac, my lips close to his ear.

He nodded.

‘So’s Joe.’

I crawled over to Joe, found the .38 automatic, pushed down the front of his trousers, and crawled back to Mac.

‘Listen: I’m going up on the roof. The moment I start firing, open the door. With any luck, they won’t see you until it’s too late. You’ve got to shoot quick and you’ve got to hit them. There’re five, remember.’

‘They’ll get you the moment you show on the roof.’

‘I’ll chance it.’

A voice bawled from out of the darkness, ‘Come on out, or we’ll come and get you.’ I crawled across the floor into the inner room. Mary was waiting for me. ‘I’m going up,’ I said. They’re right outside, and we might surprise them. Stick around down here and keep your eyes open. There may be trouble.’

And as I climbed up the ladder, I thought that last utterance was a nice example of the understatement.

Gently I pushed back the trap, waited, listening. Then slowly I raised myself so that my bead and shoulders appeared above the opening of the trap. Nothing happened. I wondered if those left on the far side of the valley were watching the roof. I hoped they weren’t. Moving out into the brilliant moonlight gave me a sinking feeling, but I moved out.

Lying flat, I edged across the roof, taking my time, careful not to make a sound, expecting any moment to be shot at from the other side of the valley.