Prepper

Chapter Two

I race across the backyard, at this point my biggest concern is dodging the dog poop. I reach the privacy fence that separates our yard from the neighbour's, six feet of pressure-treated lumber stands between me and that which lies beyond. In my mind I scale the obstacle like a ninja-assassin-Seal-team-member. In reality it takes me far too long to haul myself to the top, where my boot snags on a board and I tumble into the shrub on the other side.

I free myself from the vegetation, get to my feet and run headlong between two houses. My heart pounds in my chest and adrenaline surges through my veins. I'm scared, I'm excited, I'm wonderfully alive. I'm also panting like a dog. I really need to get more exercise.

Two men are shouting expletives in the street. I'm essentially in an alley between two homes, I flatten myself against the side of one house. Absolute stealth is my goal. I remain concealed in the shadows and listen.

"Drop the fucking gun!"

"Fuck you!"

"Swear to god, I will kill you where you stand!"

Still sequestered and out-of-sight, I listen to the post-modern Shakespearean dialog which now contains far less of the Queen's English and much more urban vernacular interspersed with racial epithets. I can't contain my curiosity any further. I peer around the corner to get a glimpse of what all the fuss is about. However, I'm still in shadow and further hidden by a leafy hedge at the corner of the house.

There are two men in the middle of the formerly quiet street, yelling their heads off in the soft glow of the high-pressure sodium vapour street light. One is wearing a dark hoodie and baseball cap, his hood is drawn about his head obscuring his face. His pants ride far beneath his waist. He's holding a handgun sideways and waving it wildly as he exercises his free speech rights at the top of his lungs. Oddly, he is exactly what I was expecting to see.

The other man is a bit of a surprise. He's only clothed from the waist down, green camouflage cargo shorts and a large pair of hunting boots. He has shoulder length, dirty blond hair that curls wildly. His upper body is heavily inked. Left arm is a full sleeve that integrates with the large tribal work on his chest. He's holding a compound bow, fully drawn - even from my vantage point I can see the broadhead gleaming in the light.

I decide to stay hidden, I have visions of my corpse bristling with arrows and riddled with bullet holes should I step from the shadows and surprise them. I have second thoughts about my desire to check out the commotion that I am witnessing. A voice in my head tells me to sneak quietly back to my house, have some tea, go to bed. I'm about to do the reasonable thing when another voice says, "Do you hear sirens?" Somewhere deep inside of me is a four year old who is captivated by sirens, therefore so am I.

In the distance growing louder is the wail of sirens. I assume it's a direct response to Kate's 911 call. The guy in the hoodie hears them too and he bolts. Clearly he wants nothing to do with the police.

Unfortunately he heads directly at the alley between the houses I currently occupy. I freeze. I push back against the wall, trying to meld with it, disappear entirely but I can't. I hear his rapid footfalls pounding across the concrete driveway. I hold my breath.

There's a flash of movement around the corner and for some reason I stick my foot out. Hoodie hoodlum sprawls head-first onto the lawn, he grunts as he crashes to the turf. Before I can react, camo dude dives on top of him. It's like watching two feral animals go at each other. They cuss and grapple locked in a primal battle of supremacy. I remain unnoticed while they try to kill each other.

Hoodie somehow gains the upper hand, he's atop of his opponent and I see a flash of steel. He holds a knife high over his head, intent on plunging it into the soft flesh of the other guy. My body takes two steps out of the shadow and it brings the large Maglite crashing down on Hoodie's wrist. He howls and the knife goes flying. My arm comes back in the other direction bringing the hard aluminum tube straight into Hoodie's face.