Page 74 of More Than Anything

Just as bad, he realized they knew where he lived from following him. And she hadn’t said they’d left.

His hands shook a little as he dialed the three numbers, and then a voice said, “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“This is AveryHolcomb. SheriffHenderson visited me earlier and told me his department had information that someone had been hired to kill me. There’s someone in my driveway now, someone who followed me from town. I need some help out here. The old Kinsey place, fourteen three ninety-six GrangerRoad. And I have their license plate number too.”

“Can you give me that number, sir?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” Avery read the number he’d written on the paper, then said, “My roommate and I are going to take appropriate measures to defend ourselves.”

“Sir, be careful and a cruiser will be on its way in seconds.”

“Thanks. Gotta go.” He took off at a dead run up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Jason yelled up at him.

“To get my shotgun,” Avery yelled back. “And my three eighty.”

“Got an extra shotgun?” Jason asked when he made it to the bedroom door.

From inside the closet, Avery said, “No. Only one. And I’m keeping it. They’re not looking for you; they’re looking for me.”

“Yeah, and we look a good bit alike?same coloring, about the same height. Hope they’ve got a good picture of you,” Jason bit back as he stepped back into the hallway, his brand new forty-five pistol in his hand.

“Me too. I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.” Avery checked the magazine in his pistol, then shoved it into the holster he’d strapped around his waist and to his leg. He thought about his order for Lydia to call him when she got to her parents’ house, but he couldn’t take a chance on his phone ringing or flashing, so he dropped it on the bed. They’d come after him; they weren’t interested in her. Taking a look at Skipper, he pointed to the bed and the dog jumped up onto it. “You stay there. Don’t move.” Stretching out on the bed, Skipper dropped his chin to his paws and lay there like a statue.

“Where do you think they are?” Jason asked.

Avery turned, his eyes locking with his friend’s. “They’re here. She followed them as far as the end of the driveway. The chances that they’ll show up in the next twenty minutes to an hour are stacked highly against us.”

He was surprised at the fear on Jason’s face. “What should we do?”

“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. I’ve called nine-one-one and given them the license plate number, and now we’re going right out there to the front barn,” Avery told him, grabbing a box of double-aught buckshot shotgun shells and shoving some into the big side-by-side double barrel that he’d gotten from his grandfather. “I’m sitting in the front door of the hayloft and watching. You’ll come back and stay here in the house. Anyone comes in without announcing themselves, shoot. Don’t even think about it– just shoot. Understand?”

He watched Jason swallow hard and saw his friend’s hands tremble a little. “Yeah. I get it. They don’t announce themselves, I shoot,” Jason repeated.

“Yes, Jason. That’s the plan. I need you to keep it together, buddy.” Avery carried the shotgun, still broken open, down the stairs and across the house. “You’re coming to the barn with me, and as soon as I know there’s no one in there and I’m up topside, you’re coming back in here. Lock the doors and turn off the lights. Then go upstairs and go from window to window, watching. Got it?”

“Got it.” Jason’s hands were shaking, and all Avery could hope for was that he’d take good enough aim to protect himself. Anything else was pretty iffy at the moment.

“Good. Let’s go.” They slipped out the back door into the silence of the country. The sun was almost gone, with just enough light left to let them see their way. Jason walked backward behind Avery, keeping watch, and they reached the barn with no problem. Avery leaned into Jason’s ear. “I’m going up the stairs. Anything moves that can’t be me, you shoot up through the upstairs floor. Got it?”

“Got it. I’ll watch for dirt and straw falling too.”

Avery nodded and slapped his friend’s shoulder. “Good. That’s the kind of thinking I need here. Well, here goes nothing.”

Avery advanced up the ladder into the hayloft and stared around, but nothing moved, and he took a deep breath. After he’d checked around and behind all the bales of hay, he climbed halfway down the ladder and whispered loudly to Jason, “All clear. I’m going back up. Turn the light on in here and go back to the house. Be careful. Then get into position. The cops should be here shortly.”

Climbing back up and positioning himself, he closed the action on the shotgun and watched as Jason shut the back door, then saw the lights in the house go off one by one. In just a couple of minutes, Jason appeared in one of the back upstairs windows and waved to Avery. Good. He was locked in and as safe as he could possibly be under the circumstances. Even so, it didn’t matter. Avery was pretty sure they’d watched him go to the barn. At least out there he had a better chance with more open space and less damage to be done.

Avery watched the area he could see from the loft. Nothing was moving, but that didn’t mean they weren’t cutting through the fields and coming around from the side or behind. It was silent there, and he worked to get his heartbeat and breathing under control so he could hear even better. The silence was thick, but occasionally it was cut by the sound of a cow lowing. Then he heard something that made his skin prickle.

One of the horses whinnied. And that rarely happened unless they were disturbed by something. If someone were coming up from that direction, they’d be to his right, so Avery tried to shift that direction without making any noise, but it really wasn’t possible. He sat and waited, watching as best he could, wondering if whoever it was had gotten near. He saw Jason in the back window again, pointing toward the horses’ pasture. Avery knew then; someone was advancing on the barn.

The wait was excruciating, and in just a few minutes he saw the back door open and Jason coming down the steps, creeping toward the barn, pointing through the front door. Avery waited, waited, waited, until he heard a tell-tale sound.

The ratcheting click of a gun’s hammer being drawn back.

Jason disappeared into the shadows of the front of the barn, and Avery knew that was it. One of two things was about to happen: He was about to meet his maker, or someone else was, and he was most definitely hoping for the latter. After sitting in the silence all that time, his ears picked up on the shuffle of feet downstairs, even though there was an obvious effort being made to be quiet. Shouldering the big shotgun silently, he waited. And then it happened.

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