“Anthony Fidget was a twitchy little bastard. I’m glad he was the first to go,” said Billy. ‘He just couldn’t keep his head down, had to see what was goin’ on.” Billy angled the mirror to look over the sill. A stricken look came over his face.
“How many out there?” Maurice inquired.
“Lotssss,” Billy hissed as he yanked Bruce to the floor. “You’re next if you can’t learn from that fool Tony.” He gestured to Anthony’s lifeless body laying on the floor still leaking blood through the floorboards.
“If I look quickly, they can’t hit me,” scoffed Bruce.
“Listen, you dumbasses,” Billy hissed again, “They have no idea how many of us there are, they don’t know you’re here,” he pointed at James, “and they’re waiting to see what we do. There is at least four out front and these walls ain’t stopping a hail of bullets when they see your face Bruce. You of all of us need to stay hidden. You’re a free shot.”
“If James looks, that may buy some time,” added Maurice. “There ain’t no hail coming if they know Mickey’s brother is here.”
“Let me crawl over to that window in case Mickey is the first one shooting…”, grunted James as he crawled over Anthony to the front room.
“Bruce, lay low right there and don’t move or I’ll shoot you myself!” Billy whisper-yelled, “They’re going to light this damn place up if they see you! Maurice, get to the back and see what’s what. Here, take the mirror.”
Maurice barrel rolled across the floor and into the chair. “Hey, there’s some loose boards here, this chair leg knocked them tight. They aren’t even nailed.” Maurice exclaimed.
“Okay, go look out back, I’ll lift ‘em up to see if we can fit down there or at least hide Bruce,” said Billy.
Maurice army crawled to the back of the house and positioned the mirror.
“Not good Billy, not good at all. I can see three guys workin their way through the bushes. That means there’s six,” lamented Maurice.
Three gunshots rang out as James ducked to the floor. “Them sons’a’guns knew it was me and shot anyways!” cried James.
Billy popped up from beneath the floor, “You alright James?”
“Yeah, they just shot three holes through my pride.” James said.
“There’s a bit of a hidey hole under here, we can hide ourselves pretty well,” Billy gestured.
“James Gillespie, what in God’s name are you doing in there?”, someone yelled from outside the house.
“Trying to not get shot!”, James fired back. Looking back, he whispered, “You guys git under there and hide yourselves the best you can. I’ll see what I can do with this. That was Phil Hernandez from town, he won’t kill me.”
“Dammit James, you aren’t even supposed to be here.” Billy hissed.
“Go on, Git! It’s a good thing I’m here, or you’d all be dead. Now go on, I’ll put the boards and the chair back and well see what’s what.” James winked as he turned and picked up Anthony’s gun and threw it out the window yelling “I ain’t armed, and I’m coming out!”
He gestured the guys under the floor as he yelled over his shoulder, “How do I know you ain’t gonna shoot me?”
“You alone, James?”, hollered an unfamiliar voice.
“I wasn’t… but I am now,” shot back James, “You bastards shot Anthony.”
He looked around the room, everything looked in order in a disheveled gunfight kinda way and he reached for the front door.
“I’m comin’ out! Nobody better shoot! I’ll haunt you to your dying day!”, James yelled as he slowly pulled open the door.