First to Kill by Andrew Peterson Page B

nail some of those bastards when the dust clears.”
    “Sammy, get your dumb ass down from that tree. We’re buggin’ out.”
    * * *
    “Clear to shoot,” Harv whispered.
    Nathan began a controlled squeeze of the trigger.
    His rifle bucked against his shoulder.
    “That’s a bingo,” Harv said. “Solid impact. Center mass.”
    * * *
    Ernie Bridgestone recognized the sound. The bullet’s supersonic arrival sounded like a giant bullwhip crack. He watched in horror as his little brother shuddered from the impact. From thirty feet high, Sammy fell like a rag doll into a pile of crumpled arms and legs.
    “Sammy!” Ernie sprinted to the base of the tree and slung his brother’s limp form over his shoulder.
    * * *
    “I see him,” Nathan said as he ejected the spent shell and closed the bolt on another. He placed the crosshairs on the running man’s hip. Then something twitched on his spine and caused a shiver. It was the kind of premonition he couldn’t ignore. He’d felt it before and had never been wrong. He swung his rifle back toward the lodge. A man was standing in the open doorway using the jamb to steady his stance. Nathan found himself looking directly into the business end of a sniper rifle.
    “Get down!”
    The air cracked as the supersonic bullet arrived.
    Behind him, the rock wall exploded in a barrage of hot copper, molten lead, and pulverized granite. Something stung his face. A second later, the thump of the discharge reached his position. Nathan pointed his rifle at the ground and fired. A burst of earth blew upward, giving himself and Harv a few seconds of cover.
    “Harv!”
    “I’m okay.”
    They scrambled backward as another deafening crack tore the air. Son of a bitch! That shot hadn’t missed by more than six inches. Three more shots smashed the stone above their heads. Nathan protected his face with his forearms, but the rest of his body didn’t fare as well. Blood began oozing from a dozen minor wounds on his back and legs.
    * * *
    Ernie burst through the door and laid Sammy down. If the bullet hadn’t killed his brother, the fall would have. Sammy’s blue eyes stared blankly into space.
    “Those fuckers,” Ernie said. “Those lousy motherfuckers.”
    Leonard grabbed his brother’s shirt and yanked him closer. “I nearly lost both of you out there. There’s a sniper team on Eagle Rock. I just saved your fuckin’ life. You were two seconds from getting nailed.”
    “I don’t give a shit. I’m gonna kill every one of those fucks.”
    “Damn it, Ernie, I’m pissed too. But there’s nothing we can do for him now. He’s dead. If we go out there, we’ll die too. I promise we’ll get some payback, but not now.”
    “I can’t believe this.”
    “Ernie, we have to go.”
    “Those motherfuckers.”
    “Ernie, now.”
    * * *
    Harv was crouched down, looking at his partner. “How’d you know?”
    “Can’t explain it, I just did.”
    “That guy’s a good shot. He nearly lit us up.”
    “Probably the older Bridgestone brother. I doubt he’s still there, but we need to relocate. Can you sneak a look without getting your head blown off?”
    “I think so.” Harv inched his way forward, crawling on his elbows until he could just barely see over the sand. He peered through his spotter scope.
    “He was standing in the doorway of the main building.” Nathan saw that Harv was also bleeding from half-a-dozen spots on his back and legs.
    “Nobody’s there now.”
    “Okay, let’s bug out. Sprint to tree cover. Ready?”
    “Yep.”
    The two men grabbed their gear and took off, dashing across the sloped open ground. Within seconds, they were deep within the safety of mature sugar pines. They looked at each other in unspoken relief.
    “I know we’re not here officially, but I think we should head down there,” Nathan said. “I’m betting there are more claymores, and we need to let them know about the sniper in the main building, I doubt they saw him through all the