He and three of the men walked off to two of the houses to the left, pushing their chosen women in front of them. Justin took my C12 with him.
The men who stayed behind were still in full gear, two armed with assault rifles, the other with the shotgun. Tiger stripe was one of them.
I couldn’t take them out.
Not like that.
I crawled through the ditch, moving away from the gunmen and their captives.
I reached a culvert at a driveway and I quickly darted up and over.
Most good soldiers would have spotted me.
Those guys didn’t.
I kept moving back until I reached the end of the ditch, right next to the hockey arena.
I ran along the south side of the building, covered from their view. I’d have to cross a field to get to the next bit of cover, a stand of trees behind the houses that Justin and his fellow Spirit Animals had commandeered.
I took the risk.
They didn’t see me.
I reached the first house, where the two of the men had gone with their prisoners. The back door was unlocked; I opened it and stepped inside.
I followed the sound of a man laughing. He hadn’t bothered to close the door.
He was naked aside from his socks. He had the woman on the twin bed, still clothed, lying on top of an afghan with squares of playful moose and deer.
He was trying to pull down her pants, and he seemed to be enjoying the fight.
I reached for a stuffed bear sitting on a forest-green dresser.
I stuffed the barrel of my SIG into the belly of the little brown bear. I shoved it against the back of the man’s head and fired.
The woman screamed.
“Stay here,” I told her.
I heard footsteps in the next room. He’d heard something…but I doubt he knew what.
I heard the door open.
I started moaning. “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah…”
I heard the door close.
Footsteps. The bed started to squeak.
I ran out to the hall and over to the next room. I had the bear to his scalp before he could turn around.
The second woman didn’t scream when I pulled the trigger; she covered herself with a blanket and just waited for something.
I tossed the bloodied teddy bear on the floor. Then I nodded and left the room. I checked out the front window.
No one had noticed.
I went out the back door.
I reached the second house.
The back door was locked.
As bad as those gunmen were at their job…they’d see me if I tried to get around to the front.
I’d have to be quick.
I shot out the lock. It took two rounds to get the door open. I had six left.
In the first bedroom I found a man who wasn’t Justin, still wearing a bullet resistant vest but not his helmet. He was pointing his assault rifle at the woman in his room, trying to get her to take her clothes off.
“Just shoot me,” she said.
“I’ll do worse than that,” he said.
I shot him just below his left ear.
I heard footsteps from the next room.
I swung around to meet them.
But Justin didn’t come for me. I saw him run right out the front door.
He’d taken off his armour. And he didn’t have my gun.
“Shoot the goddamn house!” he screamed.
The gunmen opened up on the door.
I fell to the floor.
“Get under the beds,” I said. “Stay down until the shooting stops.”
I crawled to the second bedroom just as the firing ended.
I found the fourth woman. And the C12.
She was doing her best to point it at me.
I was still on my hands and knees.
“I’m a friend,” I said. “Robert Jeanbaptiste, from McCartney Lake. I’m here to kill these men.”
“You’re dressed just like them,” she said.
“I just shot three of them. That should count for something.”
“Just go.”
“I can’t. I need that weapon.”
“You have one,” she said, nodding to the SIG in my right hand.
“Only three bullets left. Not enough.”
“I don’t trust you. I can’t.”
“Do you see what I’m wearing? It’s body armour. Bulletproof. You can’t hurt me.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Please…”
“You’re here to help us? Swear to God?”
I took off my helmet. “I swear on my daughter’s life.”
She looked into my eyes. “Okay.”
I stood up slowly.
I took the C12 away from her.
“Now please get low,” I said. “Under the bed if you can.”
She did as I asked.
I went out the back door.
I walked around the side. I looked around the corner.
The three gunmen were there.
But I couldn’t see Justin. And one of the trucks was gone.
I saw movement from the south.
Five men. With rifles.
Men from New Post. One was Gerald Archibald.
I lowered my C12. To show I wasn’t a threat.
They ran up to the building, taking cover beside me.
“All three are in armour,” I said. “Aim for their kidneys.”
“They have hostages,” Gerald said.
“Those aren’t hostages, Gerald…anyone who’s still alive just hasn’t been killed yet. We need to get this done before they finish the job.”
He was hesitating.
I had no time for that.
I swung around the corner. I looked down the sights and took aim.
The first target went down.
I pulled back behind the house as they fired back.
I swung around again.
The second target fell.
The third took off running toward the cargo truck. The man with the tiger stripes.
I took shots at his legs, trying to cut him down.
I couldn’t pin him. He reached the truck.
I fired on it. But those trucks are built to take some heat.
He drove right past; I was lucky he didn’t try to run me down.
He turned the corner onto Archibald Road and disappeared.
I ran to the two wounded gunmen.
“Hands on your heads,” I said.
They complied.
Gerald Archibald came up beside me.
“Stay back,” I said. “This area may not be clear.”
Gerald ignored me. He walked right up to the men on the ground.
“Take off your helmets,” he said.
They did as they were told.
He turned to his men. “Do it out of sight,” he said.
The other four men from New Post took the two prisoners away.
“You’re going to kill them,” I said.
“Put down your guns, Baptiste.”
“Not until we’ve secured the area.”
“Put them down. I’m placing you under arrest.”
I looked around. Gerald had one rifle slung over his shoulder. The only four men he could count on had just dragged two prisoners off for execution.
I could take that rifle from him.
I wouldn’t have to fire a shot.
“Justin Porter got away,” I said. “And one other. I need to find them.”
“You’re responsible for this. You let this happen.”
“I put a stop to it. I saved dozens of your people.”
“I count thirty-two of my people dead. Someone needs to pay.”
I heard two shots in the distance.
“Put down your guns,” Gerald said.
I could take that rifle…
The four men were on their way back. I could see them.
I stepped toward Gerald.
“Baptiste…”
I took his rifle.
And then I ran.

I ran to the gate on New Post Road. The horses were still there and still hitched.
I didn’t want to ask those horses to drive, not after how many hours with the yoke on, but my snowmobile was nowhere in sight.
The gelding seemed shaken, but the mare calmed him down.
We made our way back toward Nelson Road.
Not that I could take them all the way.

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