Denver Overrun (Denver Burning Book 4) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Algor X. Dennison
raised his bat to strike. She could see an angry but slightly absent look in his eyes. Probably jacked up on PCP, she thought. This wouldn't be easy.
It all happened in an instant. Andrews, once more quicker than his sergeant to use his weapon, fired three times, hitting the man in the torso with all three. He could hardly miss at this range, and the man was a large target. Alicia saw the impacts and bloodstains spreading on the man's light shirt, but still he came on. Andrews fired again, and again, but the man didn't go down. Alicia had been covering the other two, but was now forced to act to bring down the attacker.
She swiveled and fired. Her instinctive aim was centered well, but a little high. It took the man in the throat, and her second shot hit him somewhere she couldn't quite see but which produced a lot of blood that spattered the pavement behind. He fell dead at her feet.
As she was recoiling and trying to mentally accept the reality that she had just killed someone for the first time, Andrews approached the other two miscreants. One dropped his knife and held the palms of his hands out. The other carefully put his shotgun on the ground in front of him and said, "Whoa, whoa! Okay, man!"
Suddenly the one who had dropped his knife reached behind him and produced a small gun from the back of his waistband. Andrews saw it and fired three more times, dropping the man to the asphalt.
"Don't shoot!" the last remaining thug cried out. "Don't kill me!" He was younger than the others, really no more than a fresh-faced teen underneath a layer of thin stubble. His white t-shirt was stained red in places. Behind them, Alicia saw the civilians leave their hiding place behind the dumpster and run for their lives.
"I've got him covered," Alicia told Andrews, and her tall fellow officer holstered his gun to pull out his cuffs. He slammed the young man roughly against the roof of a car that was sitting nearby with its windows down. Forcing the thug's arms behind his back, he tightened one handcuff around the man's wrist, then opened the car door and looped the other cuff through the open window and onto the other wrist, locking the man to the car at an uncomfortable angle.
"Ow, hey man, get me off of here!" the thug complained, but Andrews' grim answer was to draw his pistol again.
"I'm going to give you one chance, kid," he said, channeling Clint Eastwood. Alicia had never seen her officer this fierce, but the adrenaline still surging through her veins only made her want to join him. "What is all this?" Andrews continued, shoving his weapon into the thug's face. "What's going down today, and who put you up to it?"
The young man struggled and glared at Officer Andrews, spitting on the sidewalk. "Screw you, man. You're all gonna be dead by nightfall, I don't have to answer to you."
Alicia walked over and rammed her revolver's barrel into the guy's ribs with an angry scream. "You do unless you want to stay cuffed to this car all night!"
"Come on!" Andrews yelled into the guy's face. "What do you know about these attacks? Who's behind them, what's the plan?"
"I don't know who's behind it," the thug protested, cowed by the aggressive officers. "Nobody knows. We're taking down the city, man! It's already done. Denver's never coming back like it was."
Andrews backed away for a moment, looking at Alicia. The look in his eyes mirrored her own horror at having their fears confirmed. The damage was city-wide and would be nearly impossible to reverse without getting power back online.
A smug look came over the young anarchist's face. "You two are dead meat. And I'll tell you something else. If you wanna--"
Suddenly the thug's head jerked backward and a spray of blood hit the car behind him. He sagged down, hanging at a painful angle from the car door he was cuffed to, but it didn't matter if his arms broke. He was very dead.
Andrews pushed Alicia around the hood of the car and they dove to the ground. Another shot rang out and
It all happened in an instant. Andrews, once more quicker than his sergeant to use his weapon, fired three times, hitting the man in the torso with all three. He could hardly miss at this range, and the man was a large target. Alicia saw the impacts and bloodstains spreading on the man's light shirt, but still he came on. Andrews fired again, and again, but the man didn't go down. Alicia had been covering the other two, but was now forced to act to bring down the attacker.
She swiveled and fired. Her instinctive aim was centered well, but a little high. It took the man in the throat, and her second shot hit him somewhere she couldn't quite see but which produced a lot of blood that spattered the pavement behind. He fell dead at her feet.
As she was recoiling and trying to mentally accept the reality that she had just killed someone for the first time, Andrews approached the other two miscreants. One dropped his knife and held the palms of his hands out. The other carefully put his shotgun on the ground in front of him and said, "Whoa, whoa! Okay, man!"
Suddenly the one who had dropped his knife reached behind him and produced a small gun from the back of his waistband. Andrews saw it and fired three more times, dropping the man to the asphalt.
"Don't shoot!" the last remaining thug cried out. "Don't kill me!" He was younger than the others, really no more than a fresh-faced teen underneath a layer of thin stubble. His white t-shirt was stained red in places. Behind them, Alicia saw the civilians leave their hiding place behind the dumpster and run for their lives.
"I've got him covered," Alicia told Andrews, and her tall fellow officer holstered his gun to pull out his cuffs. He slammed the young man roughly against the roof of a car that was sitting nearby with its windows down. Forcing the thug's arms behind his back, he tightened one handcuff around the man's wrist, then opened the car door and looped the other cuff through the open window and onto the other wrist, locking the man to the car at an uncomfortable angle.
"Ow, hey man, get me off of here!" the thug complained, but Andrews' grim answer was to draw his pistol again.
"I'm going to give you one chance, kid," he said, channeling Clint Eastwood. Alicia had never seen her officer this fierce, but the adrenaline still surging through her veins only made her want to join him. "What is all this?" Andrews continued, shoving his weapon into the thug's face. "What's going down today, and who put you up to it?"
The young man struggled and glared at Officer Andrews, spitting on the sidewalk. "Screw you, man. You're all gonna be dead by nightfall, I don't have to answer to you."
Alicia walked over and rammed her revolver's barrel into the guy's ribs with an angry scream. "You do unless you want to stay cuffed to this car all night!"
"Come on!" Andrews yelled into the guy's face. "What do you know about these attacks? Who's behind them, what's the plan?"
"I don't know who's behind it," the thug protested, cowed by the aggressive officers. "Nobody knows. We're taking down the city, man! It's already done. Denver's never coming back like it was."
Andrews backed away for a moment, looking at Alicia. The look in his eyes mirrored her own horror at having their fears confirmed. The damage was city-wide and would be nearly impossible to reverse without getting power back online.
A smug look came over the young anarchist's face. "You two are dead meat. And I'll tell you something else. If you wanna--"
Suddenly the thug's head jerked backward and a spray of blood hit the car behind him. He sagged down, hanging at a painful angle from the car door he was cuffed to, but it didn't matter if his arms broke. He was very dead.
Andrews pushed Alicia around the hood of the car and they dove to the ground. Another shot rang out and
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