Startled, they turned to stare at him, half rising in their sudden fear. He fired again and one man fell. Rifle fire from their now unprotected rear increased sharply and the surviving three jerked around, aware of the trap. Abruptly the three broke cover and ran, attempting to flee along the ditch. Gary rose to his knees and loosed a final blast before sinking to the ground. The machine gun opened up once more as the three ran into its range, and then it was quiet.
Gary could almost feel the solid silence.
Without moving, he shouted, “Hold your fire!”
Someone in the truck answered him. “Come out with your hands up.”
Very slowly he rose to his feet, his hands high, still clutching the shotgun in a doubled fist. He cautiously made his way across the ditch to stand at the edge of the roadway, peering at the two men in the nearer cab.
“Put down the gun.”
Gary hesitated. “Not until you cover me — I don't want to get shot in the back.”
“You're covered. Put it down fast!”
He stooped to lay it on the cement.
“All right now, who are you?”