Chapter 10 - Blood on the Pine Needles
The 12-gauge blast blew the searchlight into a thousand blazing shards. Chaos erupted across the muddy clearing as muzzle flashes strobed against the dark trees.
Jax dropped behind an overturned cordwood stack on the porch as high-velocity rounds splintered the logs above his head. He returned fire, pumping three consecutive shells into the SUV's engine block, puncturing the radiator and showering the enforcers in scalding steam.
One of Silas’s men tried to flank around the porch rail. Jax drew the Colt .45 with his left hand, fired twice through the wooden floorboards beneath his feet, and watched the man collapse into the wet brush with a choked scream.
"Get inside! Kill the kid first!" Silas screamed from behind the lead vehicle.
Two mercenaries charged the cabin's broken window, assault rifles raised. Jax discarded the empty shotgun, vaulted over the porch railing, and tackled the first man into the mud. They rolled down the embankment, clawing for purchase. Jax drove his elbow into the man’s windpipe, grabbed the dropped assault rifle, and swept the tree line with controlled bursts, cutting down the second attacker before he reached the porch.
A sudden, sharp blow cracked against the back of Jax’s skull.
He fell into the mud, his vision swimming with red and black spots. Heavy boots pinned his chest to the wet earth. Silas stood over him, holding a heavy tire iron, grinning down like a demon pulled from the depths of hell.
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"You're old, Jax," Silas sneered, pressing the steel point of the iron against Jax's throat. "And you're too late."
From the cabin porch behind them came the weak, trembling sound of cocked steel: Leo, barely able to stand, was holding Jax's spare revolver with both shaking hands, aiming directly at Silas's head.
