Page 7 of No Quarter

The man let go, and Charlie thrust his fist through the window frame, catching his attacker on the chin, forcing him back into the yard. The man crumpled to the ground, losing consciousness. But Charlie saw two more men farther down the path, taking cover but keeping their guns aimed at the window.

Escape looked impossible.

Reeling back from the window, Charlie leaped to the ground as bullets came through the wall next to him.

“They’re shooting from the next room!” Marvin yelled.

“You think!?” Charlie shouted.

Powdered plaster fell from the walls as another hail of bullets came.

The door.

The window.

The next room.

Charlie felt like he and his family were under siege. With limited ammunition, it was only a matter of time before they got in.

He knew this. A terror washed over him as he thought momentarily about what they might to do Angela and his children.

Something barged against the door, the barricade shaking.

Charlie fired another shot into the door, but it was no good. It was giving in, and without being able to see exactly where the attackers were, he couldn’t be sure he’d even hit any of them.

He only had one scenario left.

“Let them come in, Marvin,” he said only loud enough for his brother to hear. “Then we take as many of them as we can when we can see them!”

Charlie saw the fear in his brother’s eyes.

He turned to Richard and Georgina, both cowering under their mother. He touched their cheeks.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

He touched Angela’s hand and smiled. But he could tell she knew.

There were too many of them. But he’d do his damnedest.

Charlie pulled Marvin down to the ground and made him lie in a prone position with his gun trained on the makeshift barricade.

Charlie crouched down, his aim switching from the window to the door, back and forward.

A silence fell.

“Maybe they’re gone,” Marvin whispered, his voice tinged with hope.

Charlie shook his head. “They’re just getting ready.”

Footsteps sounded. A kick came to the door and the furniture behind it shook violently.

Charlie waited for it to give. He only had a few bullets left. He knew he’d have to make them count.

Another kick.

Now a shoulder against the barricade. This time, the table fell from the door and the door fell against it.

For the first time, Charlie saw the people behind the door. Three of them through a gap, their faces covered with ski masks.

---