Edge

purse.
    I studied the area around us. It wasn’t defensible—we were in a low point. I wanted to get back to the car and leave as fast as we could.
    We crouched. “He’s in the house. He’ll know you’re not there any minute now.”
    I gestured toward the road and to the right. “My car’s past the rock fence in front. About two hundred yards. Let’s go now. Come on, Amanda. It’s going to be fine.”
    She didn’t look like she needed reassurance. I got the feeling she wanted to go after Loving herself.
    Grit . . .
    I guided us up the incline of the ravine and toward the road. We moved slowly and I was getting dizzy from looking from side to side and behind us so often. There were a thousand configurations of shadow and shapes of green that took on the dimensions and postures of a hostile.
    Still, none broke away from the backdrop and became an armed human.
    Twenty yards, then thirty, then fifty.
    Suddenly Amanda gasped. Our weapons up, Carter and I dropped to our knees and I pulled the girl down, looking in the direction she was.
    The deer emerged from the bushes he was grazing on and stared at us with a face both blank and cautious. Two others joined him. Carter picked up a rock and was going to toss it to scare them off, presumably to make Loving think that any noise he might’ve heard was from this fauna. But I shook my head, opting for quiet.
    Sometimes you can outsmart yourself.
    Looking down and verifying that there were no signs the partner had come along the path I’d chosen to follow, we continued on silently. The deer went back to destroying a bush for lunch.
    More noises near us.
    Animals? Or Loving? The partner?
    We came to a bald strip of the property, about fifty feet across. To keep to cover, going around, would have taken too long. I motioned us across the open space.
    Just as we reached the other side, I looked back. About a football field’s distance, I caught a glimpse of the house.
    And I saw Henry Loving stepping into the front yard. He looked our way and froze.
    Then dug into his pocket for a radio or mobile.
    “He spotted us. Move fast!”
    I indicated the asphalt and we started to run.
    “Bill, watch the rear. If you see him, aim low. He’ll be crouching.”
    Better a minor wound on the feet and ankles than a miss over the head, Abe used to say.
    “Got it.”
    I whispered, “Come on, Amanda. We’re doing fine.”
    Keeping low, gasping, we ran through the thinning undergrowth, not caring about noise. I expected to hear at any moment the near simultaneous snap of the bullet and the boom of the weapon from behind us. But neither Loving nor his partner fired. Amanda was no good to them dead. You need your edge relatively healthy.
    Finally, all of us breathing hard, we approached the road. About fifty yards away was my car, on the other side of the stone fence. We sprinted through the low brush.
    Carter glanced back. “I think I see him. Go on, get in the car. I’ll cover you.”
    “No.” We ran a bit farther then I pulled the others down beside me, under the cover of a fallen tree, old enough that as a youngster it might have given similar protection and comfort to Union or Confederate soldiers making their way south after the carnage of the most deadly battle of the Civil War, Antietam.
    I was sure I saw Loving behind us, not far away, maybe sixty, seventy yards or so. He too had ducked behind a tree next to the wall.
    I said to Carter, “We’re going to move up close to the car. I’ll be in the rear. I’ll start it remotely. When it starts, fire both barrels into the woods across the road. This time I want you to aim high. Reload and fire two more. Fast. Then, you both go over the wall. Amanda, get in the backseat and get down. Bill, drive maybe twenty feet or so forward, then stop, cover the forest across the road with your sidearm. I’ll join you in a minute.”
    “The partner’s over there?”
    “That’s right.”
    He didn’t ask how I knew and I wasn’t inclined to explain that it was simply rational.
    A glance at both faces, sweaty and flecked with leaf debris. “Ready?”
    Nods.
    I pressed the ignition button and the engine came to life. Our cars have special mufflers to deaden the exhaust sound but there’s nothing you can do about a starter.
    Carter didn’t hesitate. The instant the car started, he did as I’d asked: rising over the fence and firing two hugely loud rounds. He reloaded, fired two more and reloaded again, as I fired a burst of six