Chapter 9: Fire and Wood
The first bullet punched through the wooden door with a deafening crack, splintering the aged timber and burying itself deep into the stone hearth across the room. Julian dropped instantly to one knee, returning fire blindly through the center of the door panel before rolling behind the heavy oak dining table for cover. Wood splinters flew through the air like shrapnel, stinging his face and hands.
Outside, a second shot followed immediately, shattering the glass window beside the fireplace and showering the rustic room with glittering shards. Julian didn't hesitate. He pulled the bolt of his hunting rifle, chambered a fresh round, and fired twice more toward the porch railing where the muzzle flash had illuminated the fog. A sharp intake of breath and a heavy thud against the wooden deck signaled that one of his shots had found its mark.
"Julian!" Clara’s voice screamed from the safety of the pantry, the heavy latch rattling as she tried to force it open from the inside. "Stay down!"
"Stay in the pantry!" Julian yelled back over the din of the echoing gunfire, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Footsteps pounded heavily across the porch as the remaining assailant scrambled backward, retreating off the wooden deck and seeking cover behind the thick trunks of the pine trees. The sudden cessation of gunfire left only the ringing in Julian’s ears and the acrid smell of gunpowder filling the small cabin. He knew this was only a temporary reprieve. They had firearms, tactical gear, and the patience of professional predators. The cabin was a trap, and staying inside meant waiting for them to bring heavier equipment or set the structure ablaze.
Julian scrambled across the floorboards, keeping low beneath the window line, and reached the pantry door. He threw the heavy latch, pulling Clara and Lily out into the main room. Both of them were pale, their eyes wide with terror, but uninjured.
"We have to move," Julian said urgently, grabbing Lily’s backpack off the floor and handing it to Clara. "They’re going to regroup and try to burn us out or breach the back wall. There's a drainage culvert fifty yards behind the cabin that leads down to the creek bed. We take that route."
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Clara gripped the backpack tightly, her knuckles white. She looked at the splintered front door, then at Julian, nodding with grim acceptance. "Lead the way."
They didn't waste another second. Julian kicked open the rear service door that led into the dense undergrowth behind the cabin. As they plunged into the freezing mountain brush, a loud crash echoed behind them—the sound of the front door being violently kicked off its hinges.
