Steven Konkoly - Event Horizon

Linda’s stealing my targets!

He glanced at her in time to see the second round explode her ankle, knocking her to the floor before she disappeared in a shower of dirt and drywall.

“Linda!” he yelled, diving between the spilled sandbags and his wife.

He slung his rifle and grabbed the drag handle at the top of the Dragon Skin body armor. A second fusillade of heavy-caliber bullets ripped through the second barrier, obliterating the barrier he had just left.

Sweet Jesus!

He had to get Linda behind the safe box before another burst of that tore into the house. Bullets punctured the sheet metal in front of them, hissing past Charlie as he dragged his moaning wife to the safe box. He saw blonde hair poke above the sandbags.

“Stay down! Stay down!” he screamed.

He lifted Linda over the top of the sandbag wall and dumped her in, eliciting a scream of pain and anger. Foul words chased him out of the room.

“Shit, sorry, honey!” he said.

“Dad!” his daughters screamed. “What do we do?”

“Use the first aid kit to stop the bleeding. I have to go!”

Charlie sprinted out of the bedroom, fumbling for his radio.

“All units. All units. The eastern flank has collapsed. I say again, the eastern flank has collapsed. They’re using a heavy-caliber rifle. Went right through the sandbags!”

“Copy,” said someone.

Bullets splintered the doorframe leading to Ryan’s position as Charlie approached the stairs, answered by a long burst of automatic fire from the kid’s rifle. He hit the stairs hard, smashing his right hip into the handrail before descending. A few steps below him, a bullet fragmented the stair riser, followed by a second projectile three steps higher, a few inches to the right of his left leg. The splinters of wood stung his leg, but he felt lucky enough to smirk. A third round passed through the stairs, entering his left calf and erasing his smile. Blood splatted the white balusters, one of the last details he’d remember after tumbling down the rest of the staircase.

Kate ducked below the sandbag barrier, thankful for the momentary reprieve, despite the sinister implications of Charlie’s report. Incoming fire from the backyard had reached the point where she barely aimed the rifle before firing a few rounds and dropping back down. Bullets snapped by her head each time or exploded dirt in her face. Struggling to activate her radio, she observed the bathroom behind her for the first time. The sink was shattered, most of it lying in large pieces on the tile floor. A few jagged chunks remained in place, attached to the drain and the faucet. The top half of the mirror clung stubbornly to the white frame, the bottom sprinkled in shards among the white porcelain on the floor. The toilet next to her remained intact, perforated in at least four places. Water flowed out of the tank, spreading across the tile. The bowl cracked in half and dropped to the floor, causing her to scream. She pressed the radio transmit button.

“Copy,” she said, leaning her head down to speak into the radio attached to the top of her vest.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, using the rifle to push off the sandbags.

She stayed low, running out of the bathroom and colliding with Alex, who gave her a once-over and hugged her.

“You okay?” he said, letting go quickly and pulling her toward the sitting room.

“I’m fine,” she said, shaking loose of his grip. “I got it.”

“It’s just us on the eastern side,” said Alex.

“What about Charlie and Linda?”

Alex pointed through the French doors leading to the foyer and slid behind sandbags. “We’re on our own! Flip down your magnifier. This is close-up work,” he said, pulling her in tightly behind him.

Kate stared through the oddly intact matrix of glass panes at a body slumped on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Charlie’s fur hat was visible through the lower left pane. Her gaze drifted up the stairs. The few intact balusters were sprayed bright red.

“What about Linda?” she said, releasing the lock holding the magnifier in place and flipping it out of the way of the EOTech sight.

“She’s not answering her radio,” he said, raising his head high enough to see out of the window. “Here they come!”

Alex lifted his rifle over the sandbags and fired rapidly, spurring Kate to react. She braced her weapon against the right side of the barricade and fired into the men advancing along the garage bay doors, not bothering to aim through the holographic sight. Crimson stains bathed the white garage bay doors as the men dropped in a maelstrom of .223 caliber projectiles. Kate kept firing long after they had plunged to the gravel driveway in twisted heaps, stupefied by the sudden, devastating violence they had unleashed.

“Get back,” he said, grabbing her vest.

Dirt exploded through the center of the barricade, knocking Alex backward. Kate felt a hard tug and fell with him.

EVENT +75:27

Limerick, Maine

Eli peeked around the corner at ground level, only able to hold his head there for a few seconds before splinters burrowed into his face and neck. He’d seen enough. Three shooters, positioned to pour rounds into the barn—only one of them making a persistent effort. The guy with the automatic. He could take care of that for the breach team. Staying low and squirming back along the concrete foundation toward Paul Hillebrand, bullets tore through the siding above him.

“I got a plan!” he shouted. “We’ll use our two automatics to suppress the gun position above the porch and the one inside the door. You’ll lead your squad into the house, firing as you go. Send one more guy around the other side to draw fire from any other shooters. Make sure he has a radio.”

“Are you sure, Eli?”

Eli’s earpiece activated.

“Liberty Actual, this is Liberty Three, commencing assault.”

“Copy, Liberty Three. Let me know when you’ve reached the house.”

“Roger.”

Staccato gunfire erupted in the distance, rising in tempo as Eli smiled.

“Brown’s squad is tearing up their eastern flank. They’ll have to pull people away to stop him. It’s now or never, Paul!” he said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I want you moving on the house in thirty seconds. Get everyone briefed and ready.”

“All right. Let’s do this,” said Hillebrand, rising to a crouch.

While Hillebrand briefed his men and picked one to fire from the opposite corner of the barn, Eli jogged over to the guy with the automatic rifle.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Bob Harper,” said the stocky, goateed soldier, resisting Eli’s attempts to physically lift him off the ground.

“Get up, Harper. If I’m standing, you’re standing.”

Harper got up slowly, kneeling and looking nervously past Eli at the splintered siding.

“You and I have a critical job. Your squad leader is taking the rest of the squad forward while we suppress the house. Reload your weapon and listen up.”

Twenty seconds later, Eli and Harper lay behind the foundation at the corner of the barn, side by side with Eli closest to the barn. Two spare rifles sat propped against the side of the barn within reach of the edge. Paul Hillebrand crouched directly behind Harper’s feet, holding a radio and his rifle.

“Liberty Actual, this is Liberty Three. We’re approaching breach positions ,” his earpiece announced.

“Get moving!” Eli yelled over his shoulder, waiting for Hillebrand’s voice over the radio.

“Liberty One. Breach. Breach. Breach!”

Eli scrambled to his feet and kneeled next to the corner, feeling Harper pressed against his left arm. He leaned left and braced his rifle against the fragmented corner, quickly finding the bullet-riddled gray siding through his red dot sight. He caught the top of a Kevlar helmet as the gunner swung the smoking barrel in his direction. Eli’s rifle bucked against the chewed wood, unleashing a steady burst of automatic fire. He released the trigger, adjusted his aim and fired again, repeating this until the firing bolt locked back. At some point during the fusillade, the rifle above the porch disappeared.