Chapter 2

I flinched at the next shot that whizzed by my left ear.

It must have come through one of the gaps in the fence, and my fat head was sticking out too far on that side of the pole. I could smell the burnt cloth of my hat and knew I was lucky the bullet hadn’t been a little more to the right.

The shooters must have seen me go down, so they had gotten bold and come after me. I needed to be lower, so I slid into the gutter and rolled over to my left, so the pole was between me, the shooters and the lorry.

The robbers had put out the light above me for their own nefarious reasons, but it also helped me. Hopefully, I was shadowed enough that it would be harder for them to pick me out in the dark, in my dark clothes.

Now on my stomach, I pulled my pistol.

I pointed it at the lorry, balanced in both hands as I was in the prone firing position with the gutter to support my forearms. The lorry was to my right and some 20m away from me. It was side on to me and faced the main street, not the cul-de-sac I was in.

“Police! You are under arrest. Put down your weapons,” I called out.

That stunt earned me six or seven more shots between the two shooters, but they were aiming too high. One was just off to my right, and I guessed he was about halfway to the gate. The other had taken up a position at the rear of the lorry.

I determined that they couldn’t see me since I was lying down. I then heard the truck startup. Someone with an odd accent yelled out to shut the back of the lorry. When the lights of the truck flashed on. I aimed at the tyre in the front and discharged my weapon.

The ‘POP’ coming from the tyre as it burst surprised and delighted me, so I tried for the rear tyres. I popped the front one of the dual axle rear tyres, just as the small truck tried to move away.

Several shots went to my right, and they were still high by my reckoning. I realised that they thought I was right-handed. Actually, I’m ambidextrous but left dominant.

I had to have another go to get the second back tyre before the lorry started to turn towards me. The driver must not have realised that I had been doing the shooting and that I hit what I had aimed at. The truck rumbled forward.

Then I saw the black outline of a bulky person run back towards the truck.

“Police, put down your weapons and surrender, or I will fire,” I called out.

That earnt me several more bullets fired in my direction from the shooter behind the lorry. As the running person was highlighted by the lights of the turning truck, I shot at his central mass as he twisted and aimed back at me while he was on the run.

I didn’t miss like he did. He screamed, stumbled forward several steps to land on the ground, and he rolled to my left once he was down. I had to close my eyes, and I winced as I heard the truck’s rear wheels roll over the man and cut off his next scream.

The truck bounced over the body and continued forward. By this time, the driver must have realised something was wrong. His steering would have been very heavy, and the cab was at a definite lean to my right.

In his panic or desperation, he’d gunned the engine and tried to get up enough speed to ram the gates open. He’d had less than 20m to gain momentum.

They hadn’t relocked the chain on the gate. The chain was only flicked through the mesh, so it looked like it was still locked. It had been the first thing that I noticed that was wrong when I approached the gate.

I suspected the lorry was stolen. People were changing over to the new flying versions. However, as they still had weight issues, we still had a lot of older style commercial trucks driving around on the actual roads.

These were a combination of diesel engines and electric motors (hybrids) as they needed the extra power for long-distance runs and steep hills. The newer versions were also harder to break into and steal.

The glare from the lights being turned on to high beam was blinding. I aimed above the lights to where I assumed the driver was, and despite my eyes watering like crazy, I fired one more time.

The truck lurched. It then hit the gates with a bang so that they sprung open wildly and bounced back into the side fences. The truck bounced through the gates to the street, sputtered, died and stopped moving.

The lights from the lorry faded to small dots and disappeared except for the searing of them onto my retinas.

The sudden silence and returning darkness were kinda eerie.

My night sight was shot from looking into the headlights, and I blinked rapidly to try to get my vision back. I waited for several minutes as my night vision re-adjusted to the low lighting offered by the building behind me, the reflections on the road from my Polly and the full moon.

Other than the thumping of my heart and a rustling in the trees from a light breeze, it stayed quiet. I was sure there were three of them, but the other man must have been in the back of the truck as I couldn’t see or hear him anywhere.

Cautiously, I slid closer to my Polly. My leg hurt like hell as the adrenaline rush had receded, and the pain now kicked in. The gravel on the tarred road was not pleasant digging into my knees and elbows as I shimmied sideways.

As soon as I was close enough to the rear of the Polly, I sat back so that I was balanced on my toes and then stopped and waited for another full minute. I didn’t get a reaction from the truck, so I scurried to my right on all four to reach the driver’s door of my Polly, while trying not to bang my pistol onto the road.