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Maddock knew waiting was a losing proposition. They’d find and box him in and take him down in a crossfire. They had more guns and greater firepower. He needed to go on the offensive.
He took the cast-iron key and tossed it so that it hit the floor and skidded near the back corner, behind the disk plow. He then popped up and fired two shots into the assault weapon-armed man he’d shot before. This time he took him in the hip and left hand. He then spun and sent a shot at one of the pistol-armed men. He ducked back down, not waiting to see the result of his third shot. Good thing. A spray of bullets snapped by over his head, while others slammed into or ricocheted off the planter’s metal framework.
Crawling along the wide length of the planter, Maddock heard thumping and scraping high
