Страница 37 из 81
Suddenly the floodlights went out, fading quickly away, and the headlights and muzzle flashes leapt closer out of the blinking darkness. "Where was Moses when the lights went out?" Morning said. I could not see him now, but I remembered how he looked a moment before, cold in his poise and readiness. "Down in the cellar with his shirttail out," he answered himself. He sounded drunk, but I knew he wasn't. Until I saw him at the wall, a faint question had been tickling the back of my neck. But now I knew he would fight as the lights and firing came on us like a squall line:
Cagle came up, shut away the last bit of light, and said, "Hey, Slag-baby, you boys didn't leave me a gun."
"Little fart don't need one," Novotny said beside me.
"Pete's got two."
Cagle shuffled to the wall. "Gimme one, you stingy bastard."
"What now?" everyone asked in one way or another – except Morning.
What could I answer? Me with my trembling fingers knocking on the hard wood stock and me with a fine quiver in my guts and the blood in my ears like thunder…
"Shit. Shoot the bastards."
No one cheered, but they listened quietly as I did all that Hollywood crap about firing on my signal and short bursts, and made a Jimmy Cagney joke about not shooting any AP dirty rats by mistake. I didn't get any laughs either. A snort from Qui
I waited until the line was what seemed close enough, and slid my rifle over the wall. Then I wondered how Pete had climbed the ladder with two weapons, then I worried about not mentioning setting battle sights at three hundred yards. The lights of the first jeep were fuzzy in my peep sight, and I waited, and then I screamed.
The crash of my shot seemed like an explosion in my hands, loud, too loud, and the recoil knocked me back like an unexpected blow. The whole complexion of the night changed. The walled roof, secure and safe as it had seemed earlier, became a naked, frightened place, as if some u
The others must have felt the shock too. Novotny and Qui
I whipped back to the jeeps, sorry they must be gone, and found they had barely moved. I fired again, and again, and the more times I pulled the trigger, the easier it was, the more numb my nerves became. Quickly the rifle was as light as a wand and magically waved, cleanly leading the first jeep, the recoil gone, and I knew, knew, knew I was hitting the jeep, and fired again. Then we were firing and screaming and laughing and lost.
The beams of many vehicles now splashed everywhere, up and down and around, swinging and bouncing over the grass as if hundreds of hunting giants were ru
One down, two stopped, three away, and our side stood up to cheer, to shout and fire off-hand at the cluster of wrecked jeeps. We had drawn only a casual answering fire: once or twice a bass string had been plucked over our heads but who knew where it had been aimed, or even come from. The Huks were busy with the Air Police who now had eight or ten jeeps and three-quarters and two small armored riot cars, but they still had a moment for my bunch. Just a moment, but they hit the front of the building with six.50 caliber rounds. The building rocked as the slugs snipped through the cinder blocks as if they were gingerbread. A brick chip or a ricochet kicked Qui
Fewer bursts seared away from the two fallen jeeps, then they stopped completely after the two riot cars fired tear gas grenades with their ca
But of course the night was not over yet. A grinding crash came from the fence behind us. I ran to the back wall. A jeep had hit the corner of the fence and now sat with its right rear wheel hanging three feet up in the wire like a little dog cocking its leg to pee.
"Who is it?" I shouted down.
"Why don't ya'll turn your goddamn lights on?" a tired voice drawled.
"Didn't want any you dumb-ass airmen shooting us," Cagle sneered.
"Doesn't matter," I said. "It's all over now."
"She-it," the voice said from behind the tilted headlights, "She-it." Two APs climbed out the driver's side, then walked toward the road. "Fuckin' ground-pounders hidin' in the dark like a bunch a fuckin' niggers."
"Might jes be a might careful callin' a man that when he got a gun pointed right at ya'll's lily white ass," Morning sang out. "'Member ya'll can't see my ass in th' dark." The airmen hurried on.
I stopped the laughter and chatter before it could start. "Cagle, downstairs and turn on the floodlights. Novotny, Qui
"Of all the bastards in the world…" Morning mused.
"You didn't show your badge, sir," I answered, agreeing with Morning. I had forgotten that Dottlinger was the OD, but I should have known.
"I haven't got it. Is that you Krummel? What are you doing on the roof? Sightseeing?"
"No sir. The Trick is up here." Jesus, I thought, here we go again, around the chickenshitberry bush.
"What for?" He peered harder into the lights, a muddled, myopic chicken. "Are those weapons loaded, sergeant?"