Isolation by Jones, Nathan (the first e reader .TXT) 📗

to keep the mosquitos away. It also had the added benefit of providing a bit of extra camouflage.

Nick hated the sensation of dirt on his skin, but given the choice between that and being driven insane by biting insects he soon found himself mimicking the older man. He noticed the brothers and Val doing the same, while Chase and the other two volunteers looked at them as if they were crazy.

Judging by the sight of the others, Nick had no doubt he looked ridiculous. And while the mud felt almost soothing once he got used to it, once it dried into a gritty crust it began itching like crazy. Or maybe that was the bites underneath.

Either way, he was thoroughly miserable as midafternoon rolled around. Thankfully he kept extra water and jerky with his gear, but he wasn't sure if the rest of his group had thought that far ahead and wondered if he shouldn't send someone back to camp to bring back a proper meal.

Heck, before too long he was going to have to start thinking about shift changes, assuming they didn't just give up on this plan entirely.

It was feeling more and more hair-brained with every hour that passed, and he was feeling the pressure as the person who'd suggested they try this ambush. What had made him so confident Jay would immediately start trashing other houses when the man found out how Stanberry had responded to the McCleeses' home being trashed?

For all Nick knew the Wensbrook group had already torn apart every house in the area but the Drewsburys', and they were done with their destruction and moving on to some other mayhem. That would be just his luck.

Then again, some part of him was secretly relieved there'd be no fight.

He was toying with the idea of standing and waving across to Denny and the other groups, suggesting they put their heads together and decide whether they wanted to keep this up, and if so make long-term plans for it, when a distant rumble made him stiffen.

He went still, mind snapping into focus as he listened: Multiple engines, probably larger vehicles like the trucks Jay was using, coming up the drive.

The rest of his group were stirring to alertness. “Is that . . .” Chet hissed from his position beside him.

“I think so,” Nick hissed back. “Make sure you're hidden and sighted in on the road below, and be sure to shoot only for their tires. Pass the word down.”

The rumble of vehicles grew steadily louder, then for a tense half a minute almost seemed to be getting quieter. Nick was starting to feel almost certain Jay's convoy was on a different road, just traveling near them rather than on the drive below. To another nearby house, in which case they just needed to wait longer? Or had he somehow got wind of the amb-

A truck burst into view on the road below, quickly followed by another and then another until all six were in view.

Jay's convoy was here.

As the vehicles roared closer Nick had another sudden worry; what if one of his fellow patrol volunteers fired too early, tipping off Jay's people to the ambush? There was still time for the six trucks to reverse direction and escape unharmed.

Nick hadn't even thought to arrange a signal for when they should open fire, or discuss the best time to carry out their ambush. Denny hadn't mentioned it either.

In their haste to get here and set up they'd probably missed all sorts of details, but this seemed like a pretty important one. Nick thought of telling Chet to pass along a warning to hold fire, but it was too late.

The trucks passed the position of the first two groups on either side of the road, which hopefully meant that it wouldn't be a complete disaster if someone started shooting. Directly in between the four groups would be ideal, and the lead truck was quickly getting there, so Nick focused down the sights of his rifle at the road, trying to lead the front tire of that truck.

When to fire? Should he be the one to fire the first shot, before Jay's convoy passed them and exited the ambush in the other direction?

He was still debating the decision when the distant crack of a rifle echoed across the road. It was swiftly followed by a thunder of gunfire from all sides, including near his own position, as everyone who'd been waiting tensely for a signal joined in the shooting.

Nick squeezed off his own first shot just as the first vehicle skidded and veered off the road, nearly crashing into a tree. He wasn't sure if that was out of surprise at the sudden attack or because Denny's volunteers had managed to shoot out some tires, but either way his own shot sparked harmlessly off the asphalt.

Biting back a curse, he jerked his rifle around to target the next truck in line, which had screeched to a halt. It seemed to take forever for him to fumble his sights over the first tire he could find on the vehicle, and the crosshairs veered wildly as he struggled to still the barrel of his rifle and line up a shot.

He was almost surprised when he managed to fire before the stopped truck began moving again, and equally surprised when the tire sagged and began to deflate. Although with so many people shooting at six trucks it was possible someone else had hit it, not him; the asphalt all around the trucks was sparking with other missed shots and through-and-throughs.

Muzzle flashes from the windows of the trucks warned that Jay's thugs were shooting back, although Nick was relieved to see that so far there was no sign anyone on his side had shot at anything but the tires. He hunkered down a bit farther in his hidden position and checked the other tire on his side of the vehicle in his sights, but it was already flat.

This was going surprisingly well; all