Of course, I’d never seen a grenade so it could have been something else.
No sooner had the first thing come to a rest then something else bounced across the floor. It also looked like a grenade but its sides were smooth and it was leaking white smoke.
“Is that what I think…?” Sandy started to say.
Then the first thing exploded.
I was right, grenade.
Smoke and dust were everywhere, I was choking on it, blinded by it and I couldn’t move.
There was coughing, shouting, thuds of flesh against flesh, someone came at me and then my chair was tilted and I was dragged across the room.
I looked behind me but my eyes were tearing from the dust and smoke. It was torture, I couldn’t wipe them without the use of my hands.
Nevertheless, I swear I could see a blurry version of Tex behind me, wearing what appeared to be a World War II gas mask.
He pulled me out the backdoor and righted the chair. He did something behind my back that made the rope fall free, pulled the mask off his face and shouted, “Run!”
I wasted no time, jumped up and ran. This was not easy. I was stiff and sore from sitting tied in the chair. I had my hands cuffed behind my back, I was still coughing and choking and could barely see. And I was wearing flip flops, not exactly the chosen footwear when running for your life.
You do what you have to do, especially when doing nothing might mean you’d never have the opportunity to see Lee’s cabin in Grand Lake. I ran for all I was worth, keeping the blurry vision of Tex in my sights.
We got half a block when I heard gunfire. Tex whipped around and batted me with a beefy arm sending me sprawling headfirst into some bushes. I heard the ratchet of a shotgun and then, “Boom!”
The bushes were tearing at my skin as I rolled out. There was more gunfire then another “Boom!” I thought I saw Tex, both feet planted wide, presenting a huge target, like the madman he was, looking oblivious to the flying bullets and calmly reloading the shotgun.
I had rolled onto my back and I was like a turtle, trying to push myself this way and that, entangled half in the bushes, my arms pinned behind my back. I heard the squeal of tires, shouting, gunfire and another “Boom!” more gunfire and I saw Tex do a scary jerk backward and then go down on a knee.
“Jesus Christ!” I heard Hank shout. “Lee, she’s here!”
I think I focused on what could have been Hank looming over me, but I still couldn’t see. Then I was hauled up and Lee was there. I could tell because I could smell faint traces of leather, spice and tobacco.
“Hold your arms back as far as you can, wrists wide and keep them steady,” Lee ordered.
I did as I was told and felt a strong hand wrap around my forearm and then a gunshot that made me jump but also made my arms fly out beside me.
Free at last.
Regardless of the pins and needles running up my arms, my hands went straight to my eyes and I swiped at the tears running freely from them.
“Don’t rub, you need to rinse the gas off your face. You okay?”
I nodded but said, “Tex.”
Lee’s blurry head looked to Hank. “You got her?”
“Yeah,” Hank answered.
Then Lee took off.
I staggered to where Tex was now sitting cross-legged in the grass, holding his shoulder. I still couldn’t see very well but I dropped to my knees beside him and wrapped my hands around his good upper arm and held on. I had no idea what I was doing but it would have taken a crow bar to pry me away.
There were sirens and the squad cars would slow but Hank was signaling them to continue down the road and they sped off.
Mr. Kumar showed up out of nowhere carrying paper towel and bottled water from his store. I let go of Tex long enough to pour water over my face and on my hands. When my vision cleared sufficiently, I could see that Tex was bleeding so I ripped open the paper towel and pressed a big wad of it against his shoulder.
I saw we were in Tex and Mr. Kumar’s neighborhood. If we’d made it the last half a block, we would have been at Kumar’s corner store. The shooters took me nearly right to Tex.
Was I lucky or what?
Was Tex unlucky or what?
I saw the flashing lights of a squad car that screeched to a diagonal halt in the road.
Brian Bond and Willie Moses angled out of the car and came jogging up to Tex and me.
“Holy shit, Indy. What the fuck?” Willie asked.
Willie was a friend, graduated High School the same year as Hank. Still in uniform, he preferred it that way. He wanted action, not a desk. And anyway, the uniform looked good on him, real good. He was tall, with perfect, smooth-as-satin, black skin, a beautiful white smile and a body made of pure muscle. He was a full scholarship wide receiver for the University of Colorado, he was good but not good enough for the NFL. Just like Hank, he graduated college and went right to the Academy. He taught me how to play poker, badly on purpose, and beat me every time we played. I’d met Brian a couple of times, but he was barely out of rookie status.