Anxious

Chapter 13: Death Blooms

"Dark for fear of failure. An inner gloom as wide as an eye, and fermenting. Roiling hate, death grip in my veins. Unveiling rancid petals, flowering forth foul nectar. The space between a blink and a tear... 

Death Blooms."  ~Mudvayne

~>~<~>~

Leslie had her arms over her head and ears, but she could still hear every single gunshot. She was on the floor; her head throbbed from the explosion; her body trembled from the chaos. Just when she felt her world fading around her, there was a hand on her shoulder. 

"C'mon girl. Follow me."

It was her great aunt. Leslie didn't think her legs would budge, but they did. She let Sheryl lead her into the closet, and down some homemade stairs. 

"Stay here, hun. Please."

The old woman ordered the young lady into the bunker. She quickly loaded up ammo, and two huge guns that made Leslie nervous.

"Help yourself, Baby Girl. An' watch the door for us an' only us."

With that, the frightened woman was left alone in the cold, dim, underground room.

~~~~

Just when James thought he was going to have to rush into the path of destruction, to save Dan, Aunt Sher appeared at his side. She handed him a weapon he had only seen in pictures. It was a very light, machine-gun, assault rifle. 

"I cannot.. I do not know how.. I have never operated a firearm."

"You'll learn quick, sweetie. Aim 'n' shoot."

The substitute high school teacher studied the M63, also know as the 'Stoner 63'. He knew exactly what it was, and how it worked, but reading about it and holding it in your hand, weren't even comparable. He held the foreign object away from his body, and accidentally shot a flower pot that had made it through the mob attack. 

"Point it out there! And don't shoot me for god's sake!"

She basically rolled across the front lawn, with her shotgun in hand. James had studied that weapon, as well. It was a 12 gauge, Winchester Model 1897. It was an older gun, that suited her perfectly. She ended up at the base of the well, and flattened up against it. She attempted to drag Dan from where he had been gunned down, but he was too heavy.

She hollered like a madman, "I'LL COVER YOU, JAMES!! GET DAN!!"

The mobsters were in the back of their SUV now. James' automatic rifle had kept them at bay, for the moment. He didn't try to pull off Sheryl's move, instead he ran, as crouched as he could, to where Dan was sprawled out. He threw his gun to the ground near Aunt Sher, and forced Dan over his back. He was dead weight, but James was stronger than he seemed.

He focused on the front door, and made his way to it, as fast as he could. The bad men had emerged again, before James could even take a step. He put his life in the 71 year old woman's hands. She stood and shot the closest gunman, in the chest, with her Trench Gun. One down, three to go, she thought.

Two of the guys, dressed in black leather jackets, were too stunned to shoot. They ran toward the obviously, dead man. In that minute, Sheryl switched weapons, and sent bullets spraying straight at the three. She knew she had hit at least one, with the loud cry that reached her ears. Two for two.

She dropped back behind the well to regroup, and reload. She prayed they would just leave, and her prayers were answered instantly. The SUV started, and backed down the lane, but not without a slew of bullets. However, James had already made it to the porch. The bad-ass senior waited until she could no longer hear tires on gravel, and rushed to the house to help James with his precious cargo.