Page 44 of Hunting the Truth
No matter what kind of gun it was, she was tired of sitting and hiding while her cabin was being destroyed. Based on the shooting pattern, the shooter didn’t truly know where she was, or they were deliberately missing to scare her outside where they could grab and/or kill her. Maya would not let them accomplish their goal.
Still clinging to Juniper, she waited out the gunfire. Eventually they’d run out of bullets. The question was, how many magazines did they have with them? She continued to wait, praying that a bullet wouldn’t come through where she was sitting.
The noise was deafening, and Maya’s ears were ringing. She wanted to cover them, but then she’d have to let go of Juniper. As she curled into a tight ball, she thought about that night in the closet where she huddled much the same way. The thing was, she wasn’t that scared little girl anymore and when she had her opportunity, she was going to make Torres pay for this. The truck passing her, the dark-haired man, that had to have been him. He’d probably come back when he saw her.
Silence.
He had probably gone through his first magazine. Assuming Torres knew what he was doing, Maya would only have a few seconds to get out of her spot and to a better location where she could fight back. He probably had loaded magazines and would be doing a tactical reload and then another round of bullets would be coming her way again.
Maya stayed low and pulled on Juniper’s collar. Much to her relief, Juniper willingly came with her. They managed to make it to the bedroom before the next barrage of bullets came. Luckily, the shooter seemed intent to focus on Maya’s main living area. He’d probably been watching her nap on the couch and realized this was his opportunity. Based on the pattern she saw, he was aiming up and down, hoping to hit her.
Maya and Juniper sat near her bedstand. She needed to alert dispatch and get more deputies up here. She was all for fighting back, but she was outgunned and had to be smart about how she retaliated. Her long gun was locked in her patrol vehicle. She had her personal Glock in her bedside drawer, which was better than nothing, but the range on a handgun was short compared to a rifle. Maya would have to be within about thirty meters to get off a good shot. Closer would be even better. At least she had some sort of weapon.
Maya had to prepare for battle. She found her extra magazine and shoved that in her shorts pocket. Too bad she didn’t have her duty belt to carry the extra magazines, but her pocket would have to do. She’d taken off her shoes while relaxing on the couch. There was no way she was going outside without something on her feet. Maya managed to find some tennis shoes and put them on. She also had an extra leash near the bed. She put that on Juniper so that she didn’t have to cling to her collar.
She tried calling 9-1-1, but as the dispatcher answered, another round of bullets came through her bedroom window. Maya couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the gunfire.
Frustrated, she hung up and texted 9-1-1 with her address and plea for extra officers, then hit send. Juniper lay next to her, waiting for a command, confused that she hadn’t put a stop to this by now by biting the person shooting at them. Maya tried to count the bullets, but there was no way to do that. Maybe she could sneak out the back door, but she didn’t know the shooter’s location. She had an idea of where they might be standing, but the shooter had the upper hand. For now.
Silence.
Were they out of bullets already? What were the chances that the shooter only brought two magazines? If Eric Torres was the culprit, Maya figured he would have brought more. Unless he thought he could scare her out of the house. He didn’t know who he was dealing with or the fact that this was really nothing new for her. She’d been through moments like this in Afghanistan. She knew how to focus and find that zone where you quit worrying if you were going to die. Instead, you let the training that was hammered into you kick in. You survived by waiting for the right moment to fight back.
Maya guessed he wanted her out of the cabin. If she could stay hunkered down long enough, then the cavalry would arrive and it would give her a chance to fire back at him and even deploy Juniper at the right moment.
Stubborn. Maya was definitely stubborn, and this was a situation where it was in her best interest. She was content staying under cover until the right time, even if Torres was out of ammo.
More silence.
Maya was beginning to wonder if Eric had even given up when she heard the crash of a bottle breaking. She scooted over slightly so she could see out of her bedroom door.
Son of a bitch. The asshole had thrown a Molotov cocktail into her cabin.
Chapter Twenty-One
The smell of gasoline permeated the cabin and the Molotov cocktail quickly lit up. Flames spread along the path of the gas and then spread to Maya’s rug. Her log cabin was far from fireproof, and would be up in flames in minutes. She didn’t have much time to react.
The barrage of bullets stopped, and Maya knew that Torres was outside waiting for her. She could get out the back door. Was that what he was counting on?
Maya found some scarves she had stashed away in a container under the bed, waiting for wintertime. She wrapped one around her face and then did her best to cover Juniper’s nose with the other.
Wood popped as the flames spread and smoke poured into the bedroom. She and Juniper had to get outside. Maya took the bandanna back off Juniper. She didn’t want anything on Juniper’s face impeding her from doing her job. But that meant they needed to get out. Now.
Maya and Juniper crept over to the back door. Juniper seemed to understand that they needed to stay low as she followed Maya’s lead, crawling on her belly. The back door out of her bedroom was solid wood with no windows. There was no way she could see. The window over her bed was the best bet, but Maya could feel the heat from the fire as it gained traction.
They’d have to take their chances.
Maya took a deep breath and left the leash on Juniper, grabbing it with her left hand so she could shoot right-handed. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but better than nothing. She inhaled again, sucking smoke into her lungs, forcing her to cough.
They had to go now.
She flung open the door, staying down low. Juniper crawled next to her until they were on the porch, then sprang forward and rushed down the back stairs, pulling the leash out of Maya’s hand. She followed the direction her dog went and scanned the area for the suspect and Juniper. Where did Juniper go?
Maya sprinted down to the stream where she could take cover behind some large trees. Even though the creek was barely running right now, it seemed the safest place to be because of the fire, but the worst place to be if someone was pursuing you. Maya continued to scan the area to see if she could see anyone and withheld gunfire. You didn’t shoot and waste ammo until you had a target. Plus, she had texted dispatch so there could be officers responding. She didn’t want to hurt another officer or Juniper with friendly fire.
Where was Juniper?
Maya had to get away from the house and back onto a ridge away from her cabin where she had a better vantage point. At least she knew the area. That gave her a small advantage.
