Last Stand: Patriots (Book 2) by William H. Weber Read Free Book Online Page A

yards from the next house when a shot rang out. There was nowhere for him to go except for a drainage ditch that ran between both properties.
    Scrambling down into it, John took a moment to catch his breath before he peered up to search for the source of the shot. Was someone hunting nearby? Or had the bullet been meant for him?
    The sharp crack from another rifle echoed from the town and this time the dirt kicked up near the lip of the ditch. Then came the distinct sound of men whooping and hollering in the distance and something else. An unmistakable sound that made the blood in his veins turn to ice.
    Horses ’ hooves. Lots of them.
    Taking another peek, John understood quickly that he was in trouble. His only guess was that they must have spotters looking out for approaching scavengers and other ex-military types like him. Who else would still be alive in a country where law and order had completely disintegrated?
    The men on horses, perhaps a dozen strong, were moving quickly in his direction and suddenly John was glad he’d told Gary and Brandon to stay back. If the jig was up for John, at least he wouldn’t be bringing anyone down with him.
    Think! he scolded himself.
    The closest house was less than fifty yards in the opposite direction. The doors and windows were sealed tight with plywood, but it was his only real chance. Moving closer to the enemy wasn’t an option. But first, he would lay down some suppressing fire and hopefully buy himself a moment to escape.
    Resting his AR on the top of the depression, John peered through the scope. The men charging toward him were bouncing up and down in his sights, making them hard to hit. But he knew he didn’t need to peg the men. As much as he detested having to do it, he only needed to hit the horses carrying them.
    Slowing his breathing, he aimed and pulled the trigger three times. The first grouping struck the horse in the neck and it fell to the ground, tearing up a large chunk of earth, throwing the rider forward violently. He struck the ground, rolled and didn’t move.
    John quickly readjusted and fired at the next man in line. Thankfully, this volley struck the rider instead of the horse, dropping him from the saddle, leaving the horse to run aimlessly without him.
    Seeing that they were under attack, the other mounted men scattered left and right and John didn’t waste a minute, springing from the drainage ditch and across the open ground. A few of the horsemen saw what he was doing and called out to their comrades. More shots broke the humid summer air and thudded into the shed to his left. There was a good chance he wasn’t going to make it. John swung around the shed and used the angle to take out two more enemies moving on his right flank. He then fired at a third, but the rounds went wide.
    Breathing hard now, he popped his mag out, loaded a fresh one in and stashed the empty in the front slot of his vest. This was where experience helped. Someone who hadn’t practiced enough reloading in live fire situations would likely be shaking so hard he’d drop the mag on the ground, or maybe even leave the empty one behind like they did in the movies.
    Checking around the other corner, John saw the rest of the attacking force was nearly on top of him. An alarm sounded from the town center and he knew it could only mean more enemies were on their way.
    The ground here was particularly uneven which was making it hard to build up enough speed. With the possible cover from the house looming only yards away, John ’s boot caught on a discarded tire from one of the derelict cars. He fell head first into the dirt. The grip of his AR dug into his belly as he hit the ground, winding him. His forehead struck a patch of hard dirt, causing bright starbursts to bloom before his eyes. With a light head and blurred vision, John began to realize the full extent of the trouble he was in. The overwhelming sense of peace enveloping him now was a dead giveaway.
    Staggering to his