He didn’t need to kill Barrett. He just needed him to stop shooting. Zack slid to a halt, aimed the M4 at the door, and opened fire. Rounds struck the roof, the door, the door’s window, and the left front quarter panel, sending sparks showering across the grass and starbursts across the driver’s window. The gunfire had the intended effect, and Barrett stopped and ducked back inside the vehicle.

The weapon emptied, and Zack rotated the M4 slightly to the right, ejected the magazine, and inserted with his left hand a fresh one from a pouch on the front of the Kevlar vest. He slammed the charging handle backward with his left hand, and the bolt slid forward, a fresh round in the chamber.

The tactical reload had taken less than two seconds, but in that time, Barrett had closed the door, leaving Zack no target to engage.

Zack sprinted to the pavilion as the Ford Explorer slowly pulled off the grass and onto the road. A group of ten or so residents were trapped inside the ring of fire, and the wooden railing had begun to burn, sending smoke swirling into the windy night.

Several of his neighbors stopped and stared as he ran to the open door of the SUV that Nick had crashed. Here comes Mr. Chambers with a Kevlar vest and an assault rifle. Don’t mind him. He would’ve been amused at the shocked expressions under different circumstances, but the wind was accelerating the fire.

“What the hell is going on, Zack?” Josh Davidson—an African American former college and professional football player for the Washington Redskins, one of the few neighbors Zack occasionally ran with—asked.

“No time, Josh, but can you please get everyone away from the pavilion. Thanks,” Zack said as he slid into the seat and slammed the door shut.

Fortunately, his brother had left the SUV running, and Zack shifted the vehicle into reverse. If they thought me running with an M4 was an attention-grabber, wait until they get a load of this. He glanced right through the burning steps and saw the small group of residents, including Sam and his brother and the unconscious gunman, huddled in the middle away from the smoke and flames. The engine roared as the vehicle shot backward, tearing up the grass and dirt.

* * *

“We’re going to be fine. Trust me,” Nick said to the neighbors who hadn’t had time to evacuate the pavilion before becoming trapped. “My brother won’t let anything happen to us,” he said, looking sincerely at Sam.

Sam nodded, and squeezed Ben’s hand fiercely.

Their reunion had been short-lived once she’d run into his arms, gunfire still sounding behind her. She’d kissed him fiercely on the lips, and for the briefest of moments, everything had fallen away. “Are you okay? Your family?” Percy jumped up on her, barking in joy.