“You people ruined my life!” he shouted, spinning and pointing the gun into the crowd. People cried out and ran toward the back, pushing through the crowd to get away. “And you’re out here celebrating?”
The gunman pivoted back, aiming at Alex. The reporter signaled for the cameraman to get a close-up, and the gunman turned on her, eyes ignited with rage. “You’re filming this? You think this is entertainment?” he boomed.
The gun went off so suddenly that Alex jumped backward, her ears ringing. Red bloomed in the stomach of the reporter’s pristine white suit, and the woman stood for a moment in shock, mouth hanging open, before she crumpled forward. The cameraman flung his equipment down and rushed to her side, bending over her. He whipped out his phone and called 911.
People screamed and ran, and the gunman spun, firing off several rounds into the crowd. They scattered, and Alex couldn’t tell if anyone had been hit. A few people dove down on the ground and cowered there, looking frantically over their shoulders. One man in a black cap ran off at a fast clip, managing to reach the nearest clump of trees.
The councilman, who’d been standing in shock next to Christine, looked on, his eyes wide and unblinking. Then he spoke. “David, I’m sorry the project didn’t go through. But there’ll be other jobs.”
“What difference would that make?” David spat. “I already lost my company! Went bankrupt when this didn’t go through. My wife left me for some rich-ass golf pro.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the councilman said, “but these good people didn’t do anything to hurt you.”
Alex just wanted to slink down and away, take cover behind the stage, but was worried the sudden movement might draw his fire. But she was beginning to like Mr. Two-Faced Politician. At least he was brave enough to confront the man.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” David fumed. “These are exactly the people who did this to me. They get all worked up over a bunch of fucking birds. My business was ruined!” His gun hand shook with rage.
“Not me,” the councilman assured him. “I wanted the development to go through. I fought very hard for it.”
And now he’s back to saving his own ass, Alex thought.
“Not hard enough.” He pivoted, pointing the gun into the crowd. “And now I’m going to take out as many of you assholes as I can.”
The councilman leapt off the stage and sprinted away as the gunman pivoted and took aim at him. Christine froze in terror as the gun went off with a cacophonous boom, firing at the retreating politician. Stevens flinched and fell, then got up and kept running. The shot had missed. Christine trembled and stared at Alex, her face starting to crumple. Then she ran to Alex’s side. David tracked her movement and leveled his gun at them.
Alex dove behind the stage, pulling Christine with her. They fell hard, hunkering down beneath the minuscule eighteen inches of cover provided by the height of the small stage. She heard David’s boots step up onto the platform. He was coming toward them. Soon he’d be right over them, firing the gun downward.
Alex grabbed Christine’s hand and whispered, “Run!” From her belly, Alex got to her knees and took off for the nearest trees, which were more than a hundred yards away. Her hiking boots squished on the moist ground and she zigged and zagged, trying to make a difficult target. Tough clumps of grass threatened to trip her, and the ground sucked at her boots each time she planted a foot. Christine ran as well, and they were a third of the way to the trees when another deafening boom rang out.
Alex braced herself to feel pain, but none came. Christine ran on to the left of her, utter panic on her face. But she was unharmed. Another shot had gone wild.
Alex dared a glance back. The gunman was fast on their tracks, his hand extended, the gun bouncing erratically as he ran. But it was trained on Alex. She zagged to the right and pushed herself to run faster as another shot rang out. Bracing again to feel a bullet tear through her, she realized this gun had fired from much farther away than where David was.
Confused, she chanced another glance back to see David standing still, his body drooping as he grabbed his right arm in a tight clench. Blood seeped through his fingers, and his gun lay on the ground next to him. Had someone in the crowd shot him? It sounded too far away for that. The shot had been more distant than from the stage.
Christine paused, staring back in confusion, and Alex ran over to her, hurrying her toward the trees. Staring around angrily, the gunman picked up the weapon in his left hand, then started toward them again.
Alex’s heart thumped painfully. Now that she was closer to the trees, she saw they were too thin to offer much protection. He’d easily shoot them there. Panic rose within her as she surveyed the area for cover.
“What do we do?” Christine cried, realizing their dilemma.
Behind them, the gunman was closing fast. He bared his teeth against the pain, blood streaming down his right arm, which hung limply at his side. His left hand shook on the weapon, but she knew he’d have no problem killing them at close range. He staggered forward, rage driving him on.
She sped to the right, gesturing for Christine to go the other way, splitting them up. She was almost at the trees when she saw about an inch of standing water pooling at their bases. She splashed into it, weaving between trunks.
David stopped at the tree line. He lifted his weapon, taking his time to aim.
Alex was only feet away. Her boots sank into the mud, slowing her progress. Only a six-inch trunk stood between her and a bullet.
Another distant crack of a gun rang out. Alex looked on in horror as a wound the size of a grapefruit exploded out of David’s forehead. He slumped forward, splashing onto the sodden ground, lying immobile. Blood pooled into the brown water.
Alex forced her body to move. Christine stood about fifty feet away, crouched down behind some trees. Alex reached her, struggling for a breath.
Alex looked back. The gunman lay still. He’d been shot in the back of the skull, the exit wound devastating. There was no way he had survived. But she wasn’t about to go check on him, either. She crouched down next to Christine and whispered, “There’s another shooter out there.” From the angle of the gunman’s wound, Alex guessed the person was firing from the clump of trees on the far side of the stage, where the man in the black cap had vanished to. “I think we better creep farther into the trees and lie down.”
They did so until the view of the other section of trees was obscured. Then they waited. From their position, Alex could see that the crowd had all scattered, fleeing toward the road on the opposite side of the wetlands. The cameraman had lain down next to the reporter and was looking around, his eyes wide with fear.
Alex’s mind reeled as her breath came too fast. Who had fired the shot? A second gunman? Could it be the police? Had they been able to respond that quickly with a sniper?
A few minutes later, she heard police sirens in the distance. She looked out to see the councilman at the road waving police cruisers over. Two pulled up next to him and he pointed toward the body of the gunman. Then the police were running toward the man’s body cautiously, talking into their shoulder radios.
A man and a woman met them partway and pointed at the distant trees, to where Alex thought the other gunman had fired from. The police talked some more into their radios, then continued to move forward. Two officers escorted the man and woman back to the road.