Free The Dark Roads by Wayne Lemmons

asphalt was eaten on this round before the weapon ran out. Buddy ran toward Richie, his boots sliding along the pavement when he came to a crouch at the hood of the BMW.
    "The fuck, man?" Buddy whispered, "Can you see em' anywhere?"
    "Can't look for long enough to spot the pricks. They must have an armory up there to be shooting like this."
    "Yeah," Buddy said, "What ever happened to conservation?"
    "You see Elvis anywhere?"
    "Was going to ask you the same thing."
    They looked at each other for a long minute, neither of them wanting to think that Elvis had been caught off guard. They said nothing of the sort, choosing instead to figure out a next move.
    "Try to flank them or run like hell?" Buddy asked.
    "If we run it'll take too long."
    "Yeah, but if we flank we might get dead quicker."
    As if Buddy had told their assailant the same thing, more bullets came at them. It seemed that whoever was up ahead had an infinite supply and was intent on target practice.
    "I think it's only one guy," Buddy said.
    "Why?"
    "Because if there's more than one of them we're fucked. Flank him."
    Richie nodded. As soon as the shooting stopped again both he and Buddy stood and bolted for the outer lanes of the road. They stayed low enough so as not to be easy targets, but were both moving too fast to be completely safe.
    When the gun started up again, they didn't dive for cover. Richie heard it, but didn't hear impacts near where he was, so decided that Buddy had been right. There must've been only one person shooting, or only one gun working. He risked standing up to his full height to see where the source of all the noise was standing.
    He did catch sight of the person with the rifle, noted his general area, and ran for it. The rifle went silent just as Richie was coming within range of the man and he took advantage of the situation.
    Richie pointed the miniature shotgun at the guy and almost yelled for him to stop what he was doing and put the weapon down. He immediately thought better of it and fired both barrels.
    Flames licked out of the front of his weapon, lighting up the night for a moment, and the man who'd been trying to replace his ammunition clip and throw the rifle bolt, fell hard to the ground.
    Buddy ran up to the other side of him, aimed, and put two more shots into the guy for good measure. Their eyes met for a second, both knowing that their actions had been the only chance at survival, and they nodded to each other. Job well done.
    More gunfire erupted behind them and they turned, both hoping that there wasn't someone else with a long range rifle targeting them. Three more shots sounded, but no impact noises were evident near them.
    "Elvis," Buddy said, turning to run.
    Richie followed, cracking open the breech of his weapon and reloading as he went.
     
    ***
     
    Elvis had been thinking clearer than either Buddy or Richie. All they'd been able to focus on was getting past the turn and had panicked for the first few moments of the attack. Elvis had no trouble understanding what was going on, though he couldn't have been sure that he was right without checking.
    His intuition, though simple, had always been trustworthy. When Richie and Buddy started running toward the man in front of him Elvis had reversed toward their supplies. When he got back to their starting point it was just in time to see their packs being stolen.
    A young girl, probably in her early teens, and a boy of about the same age as Elvis were doing their best to pull the supply packs from the underside of the car where they'd been left. The only thing that had slowed them down enough for Elvis to catch up was the band on his slingshot.
    He'd stowed the thing in a side pocket on his own pack and somehow the rubber sling had bound up on the bottom of the car. He almost laughed at his good fortune.
    "Wait!" he yelled, “Leave that alone!"
    They couldn't have heard him over the gunfire, but he yelled twice more as he aimed his revolver. On the third yell he must've