guess accurately where they were, in spite of the racket they were making. They were creating an urban warfare maze.
Still, they were the rats in the maze and they needed to get out.
Random machine gun fire tore through the air and wooden homes at random. Rialto didn't know where his prey was exactly, but that didn't stop them from firing indiscriminately, caring not at all who might get hurt in the crossfire. One stream of bullets hit too close to home, striking planks a few feet from Hardy's head.
"Go!" Mark ordered, pointing in the direction of the main street.
Hardy followed him as they plowed new entranceways to their objective. If they could cross unseen, they might conceivably take up sniper positions, though they had no rifles. Thankfully, no one was in sight when they made their move.
The main thoroughfare was completely abandoned. Mark and Hardy rushed across it and through the front door of a house on the opposite side, hoping Rialto would not expect them to have crossed. To their dismay, the home was not empty. A lone woman began to scream bloody murder, terrified by their unexpected appearance in her living room. Well…it was actually her only room.
Hardy put his finger to his lips and made a threatening gesture with his pistol to shut her up, but she only screamed louder.
"Knock her out," Mark said.
"Mark..." Hardy hesitated.
"Knock her out!"
Hardy obliged. They could only hope she hadn't given them away.
The cracks between the slats in the walls were large enough to sight and fire their pistols if a target presented itself. A moment later, Mark was rewarded with the sight of Rialto himself searching for them. The screams of the woman had drawn him out.
Mark depressed his trigger. A pistol was never as accurate as a rifle, and thus never a good choice for sniping, but here the distance was close enough he wouldn't miss. Just as he fired, though, the woman jumped on his back and began flailing at his head, causing his shot to go wild.
Either she had recovered very quickly, or Hardy hadn't hit her very hard. Either way, she was now in crazy mode, attacking him without regard for her own safety.
"Hardy!"
"Sorry, Mark." He conked her good this time and she fell limp.
Mark's shot hadn't completely missed. A trail of blood showed where Rialto had dragged himself into a darkened recess.
"Cover's blown, Mark. We've gotta get out of here."
Their enemy was armed with Uzis, RPGs, and who knew what else, while Mark and Hardy only had a couple of handguns. The wood which made up the walls of these buildings would shred like paper under a barrage of heavy fire.
"Bring her along," Mark commanded.
"She'll slow us down."
"They're going to strafe this house. She'll die for sure if we leave her."
Hardy hoisted her onto his shoulder and they ran out into the street again.
"Lay her down over there. She'll be all right there."
Hardy did so hastily, and Mark signaled they would head back to the stables again. There were lots of stalls and they'd have more hiding places.
A shout went up from behind. They'd been spotted. Machine gun fire splintered the stable's door frame as they dove through it.
Once inside, Mark pointed to the rafters above. It was a risky move, but probably their only real option. People never thought to look up. If they did, however, Mark and Hardy would be sitting ducks.
They scrambled up as high as they could and laid themselves in position, each with his own rafter below him. Thankfully, the rafters were fairly massive and concealed a good portion of their bodies.
Rialto, Usher and Grey Patch entered warily, Uzis at the ready. Rialto limped in, a cloth tied around his thigh. Blood heavily stained his pant leg.
All three of the men held what looked like hand grenades. Pulling the pins, they launched all three of the mini-bombs toward the far end of the building. Timber, hay, and horse blood filled the air as they
Still, they were the rats in the maze and they needed to get out.
Random machine gun fire tore through the air and wooden homes at random. Rialto didn't know where his prey was exactly, but that didn't stop them from firing indiscriminately, caring not at all who might get hurt in the crossfire. One stream of bullets hit too close to home, striking planks a few feet from Hardy's head.
"Go!" Mark ordered, pointing in the direction of the main street.
Hardy followed him as they plowed new entranceways to their objective. If they could cross unseen, they might conceivably take up sniper positions, though they had no rifles. Thankfully, no one was in sight when they made their move.
The main thoroughfare was completely abandoned. Mark and Hardy rushed across it and through the front door of a house on the opposite side, hoping Rialto would not expect them to have crossed. To their dismay, the home was not empty. A lone woman began to scream bloody murder, terrified by their unexpected appearance in her living room. Well…it was actually her only room.
Hardy put his finger to his lips and made a threatening gesture with his pistol to shut her up, but she only screamed louder.
"Knock her out," Mark said.
"Mark..." Hardy hesitated.
"Knock her out!"
Hardy obliged. They could only hope she hadn't given them away.
The cracks between the slats in the walls were large enough to sight and fire their pistols if a target presented itself. A moment later, Mark was rewarded with the sight of Rialto himself searching for them. The screams of the woman had drawn him out.
Mark depressed his trigger. A pistol was never as accurate as a rifle, and thus never a good choice for sniping, but here the distance was close enough he wouldn't miss. Just as he fired, though, the woman jumped on his back and began flailing at his head, causing his shot to go wild.
Either she had recovered very quickly, or Hardy hadn't hit her very hard. Either way, she was now in crazy mode, attacking him without regard for her own safety.
"Hardy!"
"Sorry, Mark." He conked her good this time and she fell limp.
Mark's shot hadn't completely missed. A trail of blood showed where Rialto had dragged himself into a darkened recess.
"Cover's blown, Mark. We've gotta get out of here."
Their enemy was armed with Uzis, RPGs, and who knew what else, while Mark and Hardy only had a couple of handguns. The wood which made up the walls of these buildings would shred like paper under a barrage of heavy fire.
"Bring her along," Mark commanded.
"She'll slow us down."
"They're going to strafe this house. She'll die for sure if we leave her."
Hardy hoisted her onto his shoulder and they ran out into the street again.
"Lay her down over there. She'll be all right there."
Hardy did so hastily, and Mark signaled they would head back to the stables again. There were lots of stalls and they'd have more hiding places.
A shout went up from behind. They'd been spotted. Machine gun fire splintered the stable's door frame as they dove through it.
Once inside, Mark pointed to the rafters above. It was a risky move, but probably their only real option. People never thought to look up. If they did, however, Mark and Hardy would be sitting ducks.
They scrambled up as high as they could and laid themselves in position, each with his own rafter below him. Thankfully, the rafters were fairly massive and concealed a good portion of their bodies.
Rialto, Usher and Grey Patch entered warily, Uzis at the ready. Rialto limped in, a cloth tied around his thigh. Blood heavily stained his pant leg.
All three of the men held what looked like hand grenades. Pulling the pins, they launched all three of the mini-bombs toward the far end of the building. Timber, hay, and horse blood filled the air as they
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