
By the flame's soft glow, Chris found the second drawer of his father's desk, pulled it out, found the key taped to the underside. It was the spare key to the gun closet.
From the closet he removed the long-barreled semi-automatic 12-gauge that his father had used to win second place in Catalina's trap shooting tournament. Also the double-barreled 12-gauge that his dad took hunting. He passed the double-barreled weapon to his cousin Roger.
"What do I get?" Jack protested. "I've got to have..."
"Here." Chris passed him a holstered pistol.
"An automatic. Wow. What about ammunition?"
"In those pouches on the belt." Chris found a day pack in the closet drawers, hastily dumped boxes and boxes of 12-gauge shells in the pack.
The back door screen rattled. Chris fed shells into the long shotgun's magazine. He passed a handful of shells to Roger.
Jack struggled to fasten the gun belt around his waist as he walked to the kitchen. Once there, he unsnapped the holster flap, took out the Colt .45, pointed it at the shadow on the kitchen door and pulled the trigger, even as Chris smashed the pistol down..
"You jerk-off!" Chris hissed. "We don't know who's out there. Anyway, you have to cock an automatic." Chris worked the shotgun's action, calling out in a loud voice: "Who's out there? Identify yourself or I'll fire!"
"Don't shoot..." a woman pleaded.
"It's Glen Shepard, from the other street..."
"That's the political freak, the guy with all the bumper stickers," Jack said.
"Please let us in," said a male voice. "My wife's pregnant..."
Roger opened the door. Even in the semi-darkness, the curly-haired boy had to turn away when he saw Glen Shepard. Glistening blood covered his face and chest. There was blood on his hands up to his elbows. His pregnant wife was smeared with it.
"God, what happened?" Chris asked.
Glen helped Ann to a chair. "A hoodlum shot his way into our house," said Glen, gasping for breath. In the window's light, they saw that most of his teeth were gone. "Ann gunned him down. Then a bunch of them started shooting at the house..."
