The Left Series (Book 5): Left On The Run Read Online Free

loud moans and shrieks of agony from the corridor beyond the bar.
    “Is that you, Wilde?” Smith barked from the darkness someplace.
    “Yeah, it’s me,” I whispered above the sound of human suffering.
    “Grab that loose flashlight and keep me covered,” Smith instructed.
    I scuttled across the floor, heading for the flashlight, which had come to a standstill against the legs of a wooden chair. I scooped up the flashlight and kept the light beam pointing at the floor. I noticed Cordoba had wriggled out from behind the bar counter and grabbed the burned guy’s discarded handgun. She adjusted her grip on the rifle and slid the handgun into her belt.  
    “Don’t shine that light directly through that doorway, it’ll make you a target,” Smith barked. “Those guys may be injured but they’re still capable of taking a shot at your ass.”
    I kept the light beam low to the ground and scooted by the burned guy towards the wall beside the doorway to the corridor.
    “What do you want me to do, Smith?” I whispered.
    “Lean around the door and shine that light across the ground when I say,” he replied.
    Cordoba took up a position beside me, with her M-16 rifle held at the ready. I heard her heavy breathing next to my ear and felt her shoulder press into my bicep.
    “Keep your eye on the ball this time, Wilde,” she whispered.
    “No worries,” I muttered in reply. A dull ache still occupied my head but pure adrenalin had eradicated most of the painful twinges throughout the rest of my body.
    An ignited orange flame to my left caught my immediate attention. I turned and saw Smith’s face illuminated in the burning light. He held the remaining vodka bottle with a burning napkin shoved halfway into the neck. His rifle was slung across his back, with the barrel pointing upwards to the rear of his shoulder. 
    “I want all you guys out there to drop your weapons or else you fry,” Smith commanded. “I guess those of you with leg wounds won’t be making a quick getaway anytime soon and I have a big old Molotov cocktail in my hand, just aching to be tossed in your direction.” Smith briefly waved the bottle beyond the door jamb to show he was serious. 
    I listened to muffled yelps from the corridor. “Okay, big man. Don’t lob that burning bottie at us. We won’t shoot, okay?”
    Smith nodded at me. “Shine that flashlight through that corridor. Cordoba, if you see anybody with a gun in their hand then shoot them, okay?”
    “Roger that,” Cordoba said. She took a pace forward and to her right so she was lined up directly behind me.
    I gripped the M-9 handgun and the flashlight tightly with both hands and close together so I could aim the firearm along the light beam. I breathed in and out a few times in slow time, then swiveled my body against the door frame so the flashlight beam and my handgun barrel aimed down the corridor. Cordoba shuffled with me, aiming her rifle at the targets, with the muzzle a few inches away from my left shoulder. The flashlight beam lit up a bunch of disheveled guys, lying on the floor in a vertical line. Their hands clasped across leg wounds of varying severity. Blood pooled alongside the groaning bodies and an assortment of weapons lay on the floorboards beside them.
    “Are we good?” Smith asked.
    “We’re good,” I confirmed. “Looks like you knocked them all out.”
    “Ya shot us, ya bastards,” wailed a bearded guy wearing a big blue puffer jacket. “All we did is tell youse to leave the area.”
    “Don’t fret your pretty little head, fellah,” Smith said, pulling the burning napkin out of the top of the vodka bottle. “We’ll be out of your hair real soon.” He dropped the napkin onto the floor and stamped out the flame, then took a swig of vodka. “But first we need you guys to help us get out of this building and out of this danger zone.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
                      
          
     
    Chapter