Chapter 6 - Fire and Smoke
The first sound was the shattering of glass in the kitchen.
One of the men had smashed the window above the sink and was trying to unlock the back door.
Julia didn't hesitate for a single second.
She marched down the hallway and fired a warning shot right through the wooden door.
A loud scream echoed from the porch, followed by the sound of heavy boots retreating.
“That’s one,” Julia muttered, quickly ejecting the spent shell casing.
But they were not going to give up that easily.
From the front of the house, I heard the agonizing crunch of the porch pillars being smashed.
“They are trying to break down the front barricade!” I yelled.
I ran to the living room and pressed my entire body weight against the heavy oak dresser.
The wood groaned and shifted as several men rammed into the door from the outside.
“Clara, move away from the door!” Julia screamed.
I threw myself to the floor just as a barrage of bullets tore through the front door and the dresser.
Wood splinters rained down on me, stinging my arms and face.
The gunfire stopped, and the men rammed the door again.
The hinges snapped, and the door crashed inward, knocking the dresser to the side.
Three men spilled into the living room, coughing as dust filled the air.
I didn't think; I just reacted.
I swung the heavy iron fire poker as hard as I could at the legs of the first man.
He howled in pain and collapsed, dropping his crowbar onto the hardwood floor.
The second man lunged at me, grabbing my hair and throwing me against the wall.
My vision blurred for a second, but I fought back, kicking him violently in the knee.
Suddenly, a deafening blast echoed through the room.
Julia had fired her rifle, hitting the third man squarely in the chest.
The man holding me let go and scrambled backward, terrified by the sudden violence.
“Get out of my house!” Julia roared, aiming the gun at his head.
He grabbed his wounded comrade and dragged him out onto the porch.
I leaned against the wall, gasping for air, my heart beating frantically.
“Are you hurt?” Julia asked, rushing over to me.
“I’m okay,” I panted.
Before we could catch our breath, the smell of thick, acrid smoke filled the room.
I looked out the shattered window and saw flames licking the side of the wooden porch.
“They’re burning us out,” I realized in absolute horror.
Marcus Vance stood near the tactical vans, holding a red gasoline can.
He smiled darkly, watching the flames spread quickly across the dry, ancient wood of the farmhouse.
“If they can’t have the house, they are going to destroy it,” Julia said grimly.
“And us with it.”
The smoke alarm in the hallway began to shriek violently.
Flames quickly crawled up the curtains, spreading rapidly across the ceiling.
“We have to get to the basement,” Julia yelled over the roar of the fire.
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“We can escape through the old storm doors in the back.”
We abandoned the barricade and sprinted down the hallway as the living room became an inferno.
