it. This made his mind angry at the body’s cowardice. Part of Daniel saw this as a chance to die well, battling in defense of his home. Some other part, however, was overriding everything, trying to give him a chance at living. Daniel wanted to stand and fight, but he had grabbed the back pack, utility belt, and rifle to run away. The thought of leaving this house, and its memories, good and bad, infuriated Daniel further. Still, here he was trying to figure out a way to do just that.
More glass-crunching footfalls came from just outside the covered sliding door; going out the back was not a viable option. Another new voice yelling, “Motherfucker! Pull it out! Pull it out!” meant that the front was not an option, either. Knowing that the east side walkway held at least two slightly injured men, and an unknown amount of still healthy people, there would be no escape that way. This left one direction to go, and, quite literally, a small window of opportunity for escape. Daniel charged through the dining room and down the creaky hallway. Inside the bathroom, Daniel used his invaluable multi-tool to remove the screws that held the plywood in place over the small window. As quietly as he could, Daniel removed the plywood and set it aside.
“Crash! Chink, chink…chink” was the panic-inducing sound the front window made as it was smashed in.
“Phsst…BOOM! FOOMP!” were the deafening sounds that the two flash-bang grenades made as they went off in the front room.
Daniel pulled the pry bar from its sheath on the left side of the utility belt and smashed the right side of the skinny window. Without looking, Daniel tried to stuff the backpack through the tight confines of the aluminum frame. It snagged almost immediately on the jagged edges of broken glass that still protruded out. Daniel took a step back, replaced the pry bar, and rushed forward, shoving the backpack the rest of the way out. He was completely unable to hear it land on the wood pile below, a result of the disorientating grenades exploding so close by.
Ears ringing, Daniel stuck his rifle out through the opening and tried to dive out head first. One of the magazines in the load bearing vest caught on the metal track, and the glass dug into his clothing and skin, effectively pinning him half way in, half way out. Abject terror made Daniel’s legs start to thrash about wildly. Try as he might, he was stuck fast. Even with the loud whine in his ears, he could hear several people yelling as they stormed into the house behind him.
The side of Daniel’s foot banged painfully against the toilet bowl. He forced his mind to calm down, and his body to relax. Finding a place to set his foot firmly on the porcelain, he kicked out as hard as he could, while at the same time worming his body forward. He landed awkwardly on the back of his neck and shoulder across what was left of the wood pile, the rifle jabbing forcibly into his thigh for good measure.
Daniel quickly scrambled to find the rifle and backpack. Now outside, he could make out the sounds of someone kicking out the thin covering on the sliding door, and the same gruff voice as before was still shouting out orders from the front of the house. Daniel rolled the heavy backpack over the privacy fence. One of its straps caught on the top of the decayed slats, snapping the dry-rotted wood cleanly. With only three kicks, Daniel had a hole in the fence big enough to crawl through. He slung the rifle on his back and started fleeing from his yard and former life.
He was almost on the other side of the fence when a woman’s voice shrieked, “Over here!”
Before Daniel could get the backpack secured inside his shaking hands, what seemed like a dozen voices started echoing her sentiment.
The gruff voice issued one last order, “Get his ass!”
Daniel did not stop running until he tripped over a decrepit chain link fence, six yards away. The voices still yelling behind had him up quickly and running again. The gunshots made him move even faster. None of the shots were coming close to him, so Daniel figured that they must be shooting at shadows in an attempt to pin him down. He ducked in and out of several more yards at a full sprint, reaching the far side of the block in