The sound of the gunshot exploded across the quiet street. The private stumbled backwards, gasping, tugging at his bulletproof vest.

As quickly as I could, I pulled the semi-automatic rifle from his shoulder, and I started firing at the squad.

None of the rangers expected this. Their faces fell as they scrambled to shoulder their guns and take a position behind the armored vehicle.

I didn't expect the private's rifle to be so powerful. Every time I pulled the trigger, the stock leapt up and bit painfully into my shoulder. All of my shots sailed way too high as a result, but it was enough to scare the squad and buy a little time.

I raced back to the hearse.

Chris was baffled and terrified. "What the hell, Ashley!" he kept saying. "What the hell!"

I grabbed his collar and pulled him behind the hearse. Luckily, Chris had the presence of mind to grab the shotgun. As soon as we hit the ground, a barrage of bullets slammed into the hearse's body and shattered its windows.

When the first volley let up, I fired back. I couldn't even begin to hope to hit any of the rangers with the unwieldy weapon. I just wanted to give us enough cover to fall back into the Bronze Dragon. I pulled Chris with me, fired one shot into the restaurant's glass front door, and we both ran through the frame and took cover behind the register stand.

Another volley of bullets shattered the front windows.

"What the hell are you doing!" Chris was incensed.

"Making it up as I go!" I shouted back. "What the hell are you doing? Let me know if you have any better ideas."

I slipped back into the restaurant kitchen, dragging Chris after me.

"This way."

A stairway lead to the second-story apartment. I scrambled up and found the living room, which looked over the street.

I could see the rangers trying to position themselves. They were still in confusion after the unexpected attack. I'd caught them totally off guard. I doubt they'd ever been attacked before. The young private I'd shot in the chest was stumbling away from the road. I'd fired the pistol so close to his bullet-proof vest, I'd probably broken some of his ribs.

I grabbed Chris's shotgun.

"Give me this."

I stepped back from the window and took aim directly at the squad's brawny sergeant. He was still standing across the road, exposed in front of the armored vehicle, waving at his men to take positions.

I fired.

The living room window exploded into thousands of tiny shards. Across the street, the sergeant spun. Then he fell backwards.

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