Page 62 of Rescued Duty

“That’s them.” One of the boys hopped up out of his seat.

Another called to the firefighters, “They’re coming!”

Sure enough, the fire engine rolled down the street. The big red truck flashed its lights, sirens going.

Naya moved up to the front of the crowd to get a better view. A couple of other boys waved from the windows and tossed candy.

Naya pulled her phone out to capture the moment.

This story definitely needed to be told. She’d be able to ask Zack for more details in a little bit. The route was almost complete. There was one corner up ahead before the parking spot outside the city council where other floats were already lined up.

Several pops pierced the air.

Screams echoed all around.

A woman wheeled her stroller to the side while a group of teens shoved past an older man.

Naya crouched to the ground by the table for cover, and her pulse pounded in her neck.

Officers raced toward a building where the shots had come from. The engine horn blared. Naya couldn’t make out Zack in the chaos, but one thought plagued her mind.

Had the shooter hit anyone?

NINETEEN

Someone was shooting at the truck.

The dashboard lit up with the low tire pressure warning, and a beep dinged in response.

Glass shattered to Zack’s right.

He jerked the steering wheel and ducked.

The truck teetered to the left and Zack yanked the wheel the opposite direction. He couldn’t afford to overturn the truck. Not with the teens onboard and pedestrians all around.

A prick hit his cheek, but he didn’t have time to worry about what struck him.

The teens screamed.

“Get down,” Zack yelled to Karson, Carlos, and Andrew. “Move away from the windows.”Dear God, please don’t let any of these boys get hit.

The front two tires bounced from the loss of air.

Zack focused back on the road and hit the brakes. He turned the vehicle to the left to keep from hitting an older man who dashed across the crosswalk.

Troublemight as well be plastered on Zack’s forehead.

There was no way for him to hide from the shooter. Not driving in such an easy target.

A woman raced by, her purse slung over her shoulder.

Zack hit the horn, gripped the big steering wheel, and turned the truck toward the curb to avoid her and a cluster of people.

Lord, don’t let anyone die.This should have been a fun ride in the truck. Instead, he might end up killing someone.

The tires jumped up onto the sidewalk. Zack pitched forward, and his seatbelt yanked him back. On the front dash, the radio cord swung to and fro.

Zack’s ears rang.

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