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Saturday, May 28, 2011
At the Warehouse
The muffled sound of gunfire penetrated the wooden door. Eric had heard that sound many times before while policing the streets of Sacramento and knew there was no time to call for backup. People he loved were most likely in there. He didn’t hesitate. Eric raised his right leg and kicked the door open, sending splinters from the frame flying across the office. ”Wait here. Call 911,” he yelled back to John.
Eric’s pulse raced when he stepped through the half-broken door. The office was dimly lit, and danger could be lurking in any corner. He swung his pistol first left, then right, scanning the room for targets. Nothing. Eric heard voices and spotted more light coming from a rear office behind a counter. He shifted direction and went straight for it.
A second shot rang out. Eric heard someone yell, “…nooooooo.”
Eric rounded the counter at a fast clip. He pushed through the open door, then with a two-handed grip, assumed a Weaver stance with his pistol. Two targets up, one with a gun pointed at Bette. High threat.
Eric fired. Double tap to the chest. Two hits center mass.
Sal stumbled back when the hot metal punctured his flesh. The first bullet shattered a rib, changed direction and exited out his side. The second round was dead center. It clipped the left corner of the heart and exited, leaving a gaping hole in Sal’s back. Sal dropped the gun and spit blood as he fell to the floor.
Eric pivoted his upper body like a turret and trained his weapon on the second target. Empty hands, low threat. “Gimme a reason.”
Bette screamed, “Cam!”
John bolted toward the light and sound of gunfire. “Kit!”
“Hands up,” Eric ordered.
Nick threw his hands up.
Eric quickly scanned the room in every direction with his weapon at the ready. Bette…Kit…Destiny…Two others down. “Kit, any others?”
Kit trembled. “No.”
John turned the corner and stood in the doorway. Bodies and blood everywhere. “My God.”
John’s instinct was to reach his wife, but Eric called out. “Get something to tie up this dirtbag.”
John turned on his heels to search the outer office for some type of restraints.