Page 22 of Found By You
Panic assaulted me, and I bolted toward the exit of the high school gym. The beat of my heart pounded in my ears as I rushed past confused faces, the music fading behind me. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. There was a shot. It didn’t go through the house, but it sounded like it was out front. We took off through the back. Come quick! Call everyone.”
Hanging up, I put a 911 alert through my family group chat, and then I called it into the station and told them what was happening. I took off in my cruiser, not caring how dangerously I was driving through town, up toward the lake, past my road, and to my parents’ house.
When I got there, I typed in the code. I couldn’t see another vehicle on the street or around the house. I parked with myweapon drawn. It was probably smarter to wait for backup, but I couldn’t leave Kayla and Sky in danger.
I pulled up my phone and tracked Kayla. She was at the treehouse.
Then I heard it—another shot. I dropped down, but kept moving. I kept my weapon steady, looking toward where the shooting was coming from. It sounded like it was on the other side of the house, away from the treehouse. Praise the Lord.
I kept low to the ground, pine needles crunching softly beneath my feet. I used my radio to pass along the information: “The shots are coming from the east end of the property.”
It wasn’t very long before I was scaling the side of the house, looking out over the edge and toward the lake. A third shot cracked through the air. I felt like the shots were getting farther away from the house, which was good.
Over the radio, someone said, “Want me to go lower or higher on the cliff edge of the house?”
I responded, “Go low. I’ve got the high ground.”
Another shot went off. Even though the sound was terrifying, it was also a relief—it wasn’t coming from the backyard.
I was startled when Kayla called me. I hurried to answer. “Yeah.”
“The shots are by the lake.”
“I know. You stay there.”
“We will,” she said. “I have my gun. And we have the high ground.”
We’d been trained for things like this, which might be funny to other families. My father always had us running drills, and inevitably, he’d have us go to the treehouse. There was a safe with a stash of guns underneath it that no one outside of our family knew about. We liked to keep it that way.
I knew Kayla wouldn’t reveal anything to Sky. We were all trained not to trust anyone.
Sky didn’t seem like she was dangerous, but I had my doubts, especially after what Bill had said about her being a grifter. Was she faking all of this? Was she targeting my family somehow? Stranger things had happened, and nothing made sense with her showing up.
The next gunshot sent me sprinting down the mountainside toward the lake. It wasn’t long before I spotted someone on a boat. They were shooting their gun at the cliffside; that’s why the sound resonated.
I pulled up my radio and said, “Perpetrator is on the lake in a boat.”
Someone said, “We’re going to intercept them. We see them.” A team was coming from the opposite side, pulling up to whoever was on that boat.
“Retreating to cover the others,” I said.
“Copy that.”
I started hiking back up the side of the mountain. My father had chosen this location long ago because he liked to have an advantage if someone was coming at him. That’s when he taught all of us about the high ground—not just for war, but in life; not just for battle, but for any situation. You always wanted to have the moral high ground, even if it was just for the sake of doing the right thing.
That was something my father taught us over and over. “Be good, hard-working, God-fearing people,” he’d liked to say. My parents believed that God had a purpose for bringing souls to this earth. They believed that we should all support each other as brothers and sisters in the Gospel. I definitely wanted to live up to their example in my own life.
When I reached the treehouse, I hooted like an owl, a signal our family had agreed on.
Kayla appeared on the edge of the wooden platform, her silhouette outlined against the star-filled sky. “Hey, we’re okay,”she called down, leaning against the hand railing. I could tell she was ready to do anything I told her to do.
“Someone’s on a boat, shooting,” I said, panting for air.
I made my way up the treehouse ladder, the sturdy wooden rungs cool beneath my touch, and then I saw Sky. She was still wearing that yellow dress, and she looked fragile and scared. I wanted to collect her in my arms and hold her close.
“What do you mean?” she asked timidly. “Someone’s just firing a gun?”
