Medora Wars Read Free Page A

approaching van.
    “Just stay down, exactly where you are,” he shouted without looking down at her. The entire staged cleared of all people, including Gamez, who had flipped off her high heels and ran off and down a hallway of shops.
    The second van sped up and was almost touching the front van’s bumper as the two drove in, winding around the elevator banks, and approaching the crowd of reporters that was now scattering in a flash of panic. Two policemen ran past the crowd and toward the first approaching van, their guns pointed at the windshield. They stopped and stood side by side as the vans slowed.
    “Párense o tiramos!” one of the officers shouted, lifting his gun.
    After a momentary pause in speed, the two vans synchronously sped up and drove straight at the two policemen, who dove out of the way, while the front bumper of the van clipped one of them on the hip, making him topple over and cry out in pain. The vans continued forward, crashing into the folding chairs that had now been emptied by the fleeing reporters, and stopped a few dozen feet from the front of the stage. Most of the crowd had scattered, dozens finding refuge in nearby shops and stairwells.
    “Are we going to run?” Elise asked, looking up at Sheffield.
    “No, not yet, the exits may all be blocked. Just lie flat on the ground and don’t make a noise,” Sheffield whispered, standing behind the stage. He waited for a moment while the vans set in silence. Black tinted windshields prevented any possible view into the front seat.
    “Okay, let’s move,” he said to Elise, while bending down to help her up.
    As she rose to her knees, loud shots of gunfire came from the front entrance, where the two vans had earlier busted through. With her pulse racing, she flattened out again.
    Looking back up, Sheffield saw a large crowd come streaming into the entrance of the mall, as more bursts of gunfire rang out from the same direction. It was the same crowd of eager shoppers that were earlier lining up at the doors. The gunfire continued, and even more people stumbled in, panicked and crying, until the entire end of the building was flooded with people. As the encroaching crowd came past the elevator banks, the two front doors of both white vans opened in unison. Four identically dressed men in Army fatigues, black vests, and helmets exited holding automatic rifles. They moved swiftly to take cover behind each van.
    “Drop the guns!” Sheffield yelled out.
    No response came from the armed men, who leaned against the back doors of the vans, waiting. The mass of people from outside was continually moving toward the stage, driven by the constant firing of rifles outside.
    Sheffield looked out amongst the crowd and got glimpses of several other men in Army fatigues now running into the mall behind the panicked crowd, firing rifles into the air. From underneath the stage, Sheffield heard Elise’s voice.
    “James? What is going on? Are people being shot?” She kept her body flat on the cool tile.
    “It’s hard to see, but I think they’re getting the crowd to come in the building by firing into the air. I can’t tell if anyone has been shot yet,” he whispered.
    Elise somehow felt calmer now than at the prospect of giving a speech in front a small crowd of reporters earlier. Through even breaths she looked from beneath the stage and only saw a slit of light shining through from the other side.
    After another moment of repeated screams from the crowd, people were corralled around the vans by the armed men. Hundreds of people were forced around the vans, surrounding the front of the stage as if they were ready to see a concert. Children sobbed while their mothers carried them, and others constantly yelled and swore at the gunmen who remained silent, yielding no expression, but watchful of the crowd. Several gunmen on the outside formed a distant barrier around the mass of people on all sides to contain the crowd. They came up around the back of a