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Survival Instinct
“Okay, this is the game plan,” said the intruder: They would wait together until morning, then go to their bank, withdraw all their funds and give the money to him.Robert figured there was little chance this guy would leave witnesses after he got the money. He watched as the man, talking in spurts, paced to the window and pulled aside the curtain and crib canopy to peer at the street and then strode back to the master bathroom.
Robert felt his wife tap him on the leg, and he understood. She was on board with their agreement. It was time. Robert sat up in bed—a better position from which to move quickly. The intruder didn’t appear to notice. Robert waited for the gunman to stop at the window and again pull back the curtain and canopy to peer at the street. Taking advantage of this momentary distraction, Robert jumped out of bed and, with every ounce of strength, swung his fist into the gunman’s face.
The startled intruder stumbled—but didn’t go down.
Ana had gotten a firm grip on the baby, knowing there would be no second chances—and no time for second thoughts. When Robert leaped out of bed, so did she, clutching the quilt and the little one in her arms. She dashed out the bedroom door, down the hall and into the street.
Once outside, she screamed as she never knew it was possible to scream. The sound frightened even her. She hoped Dale Hatcher would hear her. Dale had guns. But more important, he was smart and careful in how he used them. If anyone could help her husband and her two older children get out of the house alive, he could.
“Dale!” she screamed, hoping that her neighbor would hear. She couldn’t risk running all the way to the Hatchers’ house—she had to get to a phone. Instead Ana turned to the house next door, still screaming, “Dale! April! Somebody, please. Help!”
The gunman threw Robert against the wall. The young father charged back at him. They struggled for control of the weapon, shoving and stumbling around the room. They crashed into a lamp and knocked it over. He was stunned at the strength of the tall intruder, who kept coming at him and pounding him. Robert was six-feet, 205 pounds, and this guy was tossing him around like he was a kid. He realized the gunman was probably high on drugs. As the fight went on and on, it seemed no one was coming to help.
A dresser crashed to the floor. Baby items scattered and broke as the two men struggled, but Robert barely noticed. He twisted and turned, giving the shotgun barrel a quick jerk, and forcing the intruder back against a dresser. Robert took control of the weapon. Believing he would now overpower the intruder, Robert swung the gun by its barrel in a wide arc and clubbed the man on the right side of his head. The intruder stumbled backward into a corner but still didn’t go down. The gun flew out of reach.
The struggle had bought Ana valuable time. Now Robert bolted out of the bedroom. He saw the front door hanging wide open and raced through it, not knowing where Ana had gone. He turned right, next door to the home of the retired police officer.
It took only a moment to cover the distance between their houses, and Robert found the ex-cop already outside his front door. Ana must have wakened him. But she wasn’t there. Neither were the kids. A horrifying thought hit him. What if Ana hadn’t gotten the two older kids out? “Call 911,” Robert told his neighbor, explaining that he had to go back.
Ana had turned in the opposite direction when she ran out of the house, to the neighbors on the other side, the Gregans. She pounded on the door and screamed for help. “Let me in! Let me in!”
As Ana touched the knob, John Gregan opened the door. Between sobs, Ana told the retired couple about the intruder and that, she believed, her husband might still be fighting or held hostage with their two kids.
Linda Gregan took the old patchwork quilt that Ana had wrapped around herself and the baby and gave her a purple velour bathrobe. John grabbed his cell phone and called 911. He looked at the clock. It was 3:01 a.m.
Finally, the 911 dispatcher picked up but told him, “Hold on.” It was probably seconds, but it seemed like forever before she came back to him.
When she heard the story, the dispatcher instructed Gregan to take Ana to the room farthest from her own house, turn out all the lights and stay away from windows.
The Gregans led Ana to their bedroom. She huddled in their walk-in closet and prayed that her husband and children were safe. The baby in her arms wouldn’t stop crying.
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