Nathan Jones - Shortage

Razor turned to look at his followers, raising his voice to a shout. “Fair, he says! The American Dream! How about it, boys, are you enjoying how fair things have been since we got here?” The question was met with a chorus of boos and shouts of “No!”

The psychopath nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Anderson, and suddenly his mild tone was gone, replaced by the sort of open menace that made Matt wish he’d grabbed a weapon from the storehouse before following after the Mayor. “Yeah, me neither. In fact, townie , I think I’d rather just take everything and see how you like coming to us hat in hand like beggars. We’ll be sure to be just as generous to you as you were to us.”

Anderson took a step back, looking behind him at the small huddle of townspeople for support. The fact that they were so far back didn’t seem to reassure him, but he still tried to put up a brave face as he turned back to the mob of refugees. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

In answer Razor pulled a small caliber pistol out of his pocket and shot the Mayor in the head.

Matt stared frozen in shock as Anderson fell, all thoughts of defending him with bear spray gone in a moment, and time seemed to stop as the world went entirely silent. That psycho had just murdered the Mayor of Aspen Hill in broad daylight in front of dozens of witnesses. Even with everything he knew about him Matt hadn’t fully expected it.

Then the gang leader shifted his aim to point the gun at the crowd of Aspen Hill residents and pulled the trigger again, and somewhere to Matt’s left he heard a scream of pain. Razor raised his voice to be heard over it as he turned to the refugees. “Let’s tear this place to the ground!”

The thugs surged forward with their weapons raised, screaming in almost inhuman hatred, while the crowd around Matt scattered in all directions. Matt ran as well, but not randomly. He was making for the storehouse. “Everyone get to Tillman’s!” he shouted at the top of his lungs at the people running around him. “We’ve got the guns there!”

Behind him he heard more scattered gunshots, from the surprisingly large number of weapons Razor’s thugs had managed to keep from Ferris, as well as screams of fear and pain as the people behind him went down. Matt wanted to help them but the mob was closing the distance fast, and if he slowed they’d catch up to him. It was lucky he hadn’t been shot yet.

He pelted into the sporting goods store’s parking lot with a dozen townspeople, sprinting for everything he was worth for the huddle of people in the doorway waving them forward and shouting in encouragement. A few of them held rifles, and Matt felt a stirring of alarm as they took aim past him at the attacking gang members and opened fire.

Then he was inside, turning back to see that Razor’s men were scattering for cover while shooting at the door, as well as at the glass windows at the front of the store. In seconds every single one was shattered, glass spraying the space inside as people dove for cover.

“Everyone grab a gun!” Catherine shouted as more people came in behind Matt, hurrying towards them. “If you’re not ready to defend yourself I hope you’re ready to die helpless!” She shoved a Glock and a few full magazines into Matt’s hands as she continued for his ears only. “Where’s Anderson?”

“Razor shot him,” Matt said dazedly, looking down at the pistol. “Just pulled out a gun and shot him in the head, then he and his thugs started shooting into the crowd.”

“We’ll make sure he faces justice,” the councilwoman said grimly, then shooed him back towards the windows Razor’s thugs were shooting through.

Matt awkwardly shoved a magazine into the port and made sure it slid home, then cocked the gun and did a quick chamber check. It looked like a .40 rather than the 9mm he was used to, but since it basically functioned the same he supposed that wouldn’t matter too much, aside from a heavier recoil.

Around a hundred townspeople had made it into the store, and many of them carried weapons. But in spite of all Catherine’s urging only a few had taken up positions by the windows to defend the store. The rest were huddled at the back, in the area the FETF soldiers had used for their sleeping space, crouched low and doing their best to stay out of the line of fire.

Since he was one of the few people actually defending the place Matt felt the pressure to do his part. He leaned out the window slightly to look for targets, only to immediately jerk his head back as wood splinters peppered his cheek and he saw a bullet hole appear in the frame only inches away.

More cautious now, he focused on what he could see from cover beyond the opposite side of the window, in the direction of the side street that led to his house. One of Razor’s thugs was ducking into cover behind the fence of the house opposite the store, holding what looked like a .22 rifle or possibly even a BB gun. Matt took aim, waiting, and when the man reappeared he fired.

Unfortunately he jerked the trigger, and instead of hitting the thug he hit the fence beside him. It was still enough to make the man flinch behind cover. He didn’t reappear.

At a window along the wall that faced that same street Carl Raymond abruptly yelled and went down clutching his shoulder. Catherine cursed and abandoned her place handing out firearms and replacement magazines to rush to his side, calling for help pulling him to safety. A couple of men in the huddled crowd hurried forward to help, while Tam took her husband’s place place at the window with a rifle to cover them as they pulled him back to safety. Unlike Carl she leaned out into view more cautiously to take quick shots.

“I can’t believe that rat Ferris spent the last month feeding Razor and his gang with our food,” the councilwoman muttered, barely audible over the chaos as she and the others lifted Carl onto a soldier’s cot. “No, we can’t arrest him or run him and his thugs out of camp, but we must make sure they don’t miss a meal in the ration line.”

Matt turned his eyes back outside in time to see the same man he’d shot at earlier duck out of cover aiming right for him. He threw himself backwards as a bullet whinged past his ear, and was about to start looking for a new source of cover when Tam yelled to him that she’d got the guy. Matt leaned out, shaking from adrenaline, and fired randomly at one of the few remaining vehicles in the parking lot where he could see the feet of a few men from beneath the undercarriage.

The next couple minutes were pure chaos as Matt did his best to hold his spot, ducking shots when they came his way, as he shot desperately at any targets he saw outside. He was almost certain he missed everything he was aiming for, wasting his bullets, but he had to hope he was at least providing cover for people in the store with better aim.

He’d just finished reloading his .40 with the second to last clip Catherine had given him when a swiftly cut off noise from outside made him freeze in slow mounting horror. It came from the direction of his house, he thought, far away and barely heard over the constant noise of gunshots, but in spite of that he picked it out immediately.

It was Sam’s voice, screaming for help.

Matt stood rooted in place at the sound, every single ounce of self control spent forcing himself not to go dashing out into enemy gunfire in response to the heartrending sound. His protective instinct screamed for him to respond to Sam’s clear distress, but he needed to think things through rationally.

Why had she screamed? Razor was attacking the storehouse and he hadn’t seen her while Ferris was leaving or while going after Anderson, which meant she was either out with his mom gathering food or back at their house. She might have come to investigate the sound of gunfire and seen Tillman’s being attacked, and if she knew he was in here she would certainly be worried about him. But if that was the case she wouldn’t have screamed since that would only draw attention to herself.