The Nation Chronicles: Book Two (The Nation Chronicles Trilogy 2)

by Wendell Sweet

  The young man had lifted his shotgun from the pavement as Joe had stepped from behind the old car, now he dropped it back toward the pavement, and answered. "Well, come on, I guess," he replied. The older man they had seen initially and a young red haired woman stepped out of the shadowy interior as he finished speaking. They were both armed, but both kept their weapons pointed down at the pavement.

  Joe looked at Becky. "Well?" he asked. She nodded her head, and they walked slowly toward the front of the store. Once the two groups were facing each other, Becky spoke. "I'm Becky, and this is Joe," she said, pointing at Joe.

  "Delbert," the older man said, stepping forward, "and this is Bill," he said pointing at the dark haired young man, "and Peggy." He paused for a few seconds. "Might've over-reacted a bit I guess, but we haven't seen nothin' but bad the last few days. Thought you might be some of a group we ran into yesterday... things is awful balled up, ain't they? It’s hard to tell who you can, or can't trust." With that the man seemed to consider them briefly, and then set his rifle aside.

  The man’s fear, that had been so evident once Becky and Joe were standing face to face with him, seemed to melt away. Becky stuffed the machine pistol into her jeans, and Joe slung the rifle over his shoulder before he stuck out his hand. "Good to meet you," Joe said, "I think we were beginning to think we wouldn't meet anyone at all who wouldn't try to kill us." Becky stuck out her hand as Joe finished speaking, and the young man and woman put their own weapons aside and stepped away from the sidewalk and shook the offered hands.

  "You from here? Maxwell?" Delbert asked, as he also shook their hands.

  "Washington," Becky replied, "heading east, how about you?"

  "Texas," Peggy, the young woman said, "You headin' east for the same reason we are?"

  "Kind'a feels like we're drawn in that direction," Delbert said, "can't explain it a whole lot better than that I guess."

  His accent was slight, Joe noticed, not thick like some he had heard. "We feel the same way," Joe said as he slipped an arm around Becky. He looked at Becky who nodded before he continued. "We could all make the trip together," he offered, "might be a lot safer that way?" When he finished Becky echoed the invitation.

  "See no reason not to," Delbert said slowly, as he turned his eyes to the couple beside him. "Peggy, Bill?"

  "I'm for it," Bill agreed. He had a slightly thicker accent Becky noticed, well, maybe not an accent really, she told herself, he just talks somewhat slowly.

  "Me too," Peggy said, and a smile lit up her face as she spoke. "No lie. I've been pretty scared, and it'll be good to have more of us, I think."

  "I lied," Becky said, and then hastily continued, "We didn't stop because we saw you. We stopped because we need ammunition. We got ambushed, sort of, and... Well, we got out of it. I didn't mean to lie, I just wasn't sure we could trust you, and I didn't think it would be a good idea to tell you we were running low, not knowing if...you know..." she finished lamely.

  "Don't give it a thought," Delbert said, "can't say as I blame you. In fact," he said reaching for his shotgun, and opening the breech, "we did too, but there isn't any here. I hoped to scare you off, but the truth is, we're out of ammunition ourselves. If you had been...well, bad, I guess we would've been screwed." He finished by setting the empty shotgun against the door frame, resting butt down on the pavement.

  "You mean," Joe said, "you're out completely?"

  "Oh yeah," Bill said, "been out since yesterday, and whatever was in this shop is gone. Somebody cleaned it out."

  Joe and Becky followed the others into the small shop. It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the sparse light inside, but once they did they could see that the shop had been ransacked. Two large glass display cases that had probably held, who knew how many handguns, Joe thought, were empty. The glass fronts had been shattered into the cases. Racks that had once been likewise protected by lockable glass sliding doors had also been broken into, the thick glass that had once protected them lay inside, but the rifles they had protected were gone. Nothing had been left. The floors were strewn with empty boxes, wads of packing paper, and literature on several different types of guns that had been discarded. The glass from the cases was everywhere, Joe saw.

  "Looks as though they didn't leave anything at all," Joe said.

  "Told you," Bill said, as he shook his head. "Somebody got here before us, and it looks as though they weren't about to leave nothin' behind," he sighed.

  "You have any ammo at all," Becky asked.

  "I do," Peggy answered, "I got seven rounds for this 30.06, that's why... well that's why I hung back when we saw you, you know. I could see you through the window, and... If I had too, I was going to shoot," she seemed embarrassed as she spoke.

  "She's 'bout the best shot between the three of us," Delbert said, "my eye's is going, and Bill just never learned to shoot."

  Bill turned red, but nodded his head before he spoke. "Just never saw a real big need to learn," he said, "course now I wish I had."

  "Been anywhere else in town?" Joe asked, "Maybe there's another sporting goods store around."

  "Didn't have the time," Delbert said, "we got here only ten minutes or so before you did."

  "Well," Becky said, as she counted up what ammunition she had left for the machine pistol, "I've got one full clip of sixteen, and...Looks like two in this clip, and I'm done."

  Joe had checked over what he had while she was speaking, "Looks like this one is down to ten in the clip, but I've got probably better than a hundred rounds for the Remington in the truck, that should help a little. But we need to find a place to get our hands on more, especially for that machine pistol," he gestured at Becky's weapon, "and this one," he said holding up the machine gun they had taken from the kid who had tried to shoot Becky, "this is a," he held the machine gun up so he could read the writing on the side, "a, hey, Becky', this say's it'll take nine millimeter slugs like yours, let me see one," he waited until she handed him one that she took out of the full clip, and then compared them side by side. "Yeah, same thing," he said, "this doesn't have a brand name on it though, just says what sort of bullet it takes, everything else has been ground off, see," he held the side of the machine gun up so that Becky could see it.

  "That's been converted," she said, "and that's probably why they ground off the serial number, and most likely the model and make at the same time. That's been converted to full auto," she finished.

  "Gee, does that mean it's illegal to carry?" he asked, "you're not going to arrest me or something are you."

  "Ha-ha, mister funny man," Becky said smiling. "It does explain something that has been bugging me though. When that guy popped up and let loose on me, I thought he was squeezing those rounds off pretty quick. You can buy that gun, or could, I should say, and you could even order the conversion kit, but if you got caught, big trouble. I've seen a few though...Just the same, and I'm glad that one fell into our hands, and not someone else's."

  Joe turned the gun over in his hands; his appreciation for it was much greater than it had been. "So what is it?" he asked.

  "It's called a Sixteen Nine on the Street," Becky said. "I don't know what it's really called," Joe looked confused. "Sixteen for the clip," she said, "and nine for the ammunition size. See?" she held up her own pistol, comparing the two side by side. "They're nearly identical, except for that long stock on yours. Makes it look more like a rifle. Mine's semi, that one's full."

  "And, we can swap back and forth on ammunition?" Joe asked.

  "Just on the ammunition," Becky answered, "the clips won't fit."

  "Well, with just sixteen bullets wouldn't it run out pretty quick?"

  "Not pretty quick, babe, damn quick, like immediately. I think the attraction was speed, sixteen bullets in less than half a second. You can get a larger clip that'll hold two hundred."

  Joe turned his head back to the other three who had been listening to Becky talk. They all seemed impressed. "I guess," he said looking aro
und the destroyed shop, "we better get going. Is that truck of yours in pretty good shape Delbert?"

  "Junker," Delbert said, "it was nice, when we left Dallas, but it's on its last leg for sure now. That's why I left it running; bitch-kitty won't start if you don't, and to be honest, I been too damn scared to stop and get another."

  "Well," Joe said, "leave it. We got room in ours for all three of you."

  Becky was staring around at the wrecked interior of the shop, it wasn't the damage that bothered her though, it was all the missing rifles, and guns. "Yeah, let's get out of here," she said, "this place gives me the creeps, and I for one don't want to be here in case whoever took all of this..." she gestured at the empty shop, "...returns."

  Everyone, Joe included, looked apprehensively around the empty shop.

  "Yeah, let’s go," Joe said hastily, as he turned and walked out the door.

  They all scouted carefully around the parking lot, as they walked to the Suburban. Anyone could be hiding in this lot, Joe thought, as he looked around at the packed parking lot, anyone, anywhere. They reached the truck, Joe unlocked it, and they all climbed quickly inside. Several sighs of relief were released once Joe started the Suburban, and drove from the lot.

  A half mile down the road, Delbert spotted another store and Joe cautiously pulled into the lot to have a look. He was able to drive up close to the shop, without getting out of the truck. The glass store front, including the doors, were barred by a segmented aluminum pull down door, and the store looked as though no one had as of yet been in it.

  "What do you think?" Joe asked of no one in particular.

  "Don't look as though it's been broke into yet," Bill replied, "gonna have to leave the truck though to be sure," he finished with an apprehensive shrug of his shoulders.

  Becky pulled the nearly spent clip from the machine pistol, and clicked home the full one. "Stay here, I'll go see," she said, and she was out the passenger door before Joe could protest.

  Joe shut off the truck, and got out. No way, babe, he thought as he jumped from the truck, no frigging way.

  Delbert looked from Bill to Peggy. "I don't know about you, but they got the guns, and I ain't keen on staying in here without one," he said, as he opened one of the rear doors, and stepped out. He carried the empty shot gun with him as he went, and Peggy and Bill brought their guns out of the truck with them as well.

  Joe was staring through the segmented burglar door into the interior of the small shop, as Delbert walked up. "What's it look like, Joe?" he asked.

  Becky was back on the sidewalk, the machine pistol in her hands, sweeping the parking lot with her eyes, Peggy and Bill beside her.

  "Looks like nobody got to it," Joe said, "what do you think, Dell?"

  Delbert squinted into the shop. "Hard to tell, but I think you're right, Joe, it looks good to me. But this door is gonna keep us out, just like it's kept out ever one before us."

  "Uh-uh," Joe said, "not me it isn't. He turned face and walked back to the Suburban.

  "Look out, Dell," he said, as he started the truck, and cramped the wheel around to bring it up on the sidewalk, "saw this on a cop show once, here goes..."

  Joe lined the truck up even with the front doors in back of the aluminum burglar door, backed up, and punched the gas pedal. The rear tires screeched briefly as the truck bumped up over the curb and hit the door. The truck passed through the aluminum door as if it were made of paper and barely tapped the inside glass doors before Joe locked up the brakes. The lite tap on the doors was all it took to shatter the safety glass. Joe reversed the truck, and backed down off the sidewalk. He cramped the wheel once more, and shut off the truck, leaving it almost where it had been in the first place. He got out and looked over the front of the truck; there was not even a single scratch to show where the massive bumper had connected with the aluminum door, and then the glass. He stood up from his examination of the bumper, and was surprised to see everyone staring at him.

  "What?" he said. "I told you I saw it on a cop show once. Of course I didn't know it would work so well," he finished grinning.

  "You're an animal, Hon," Becky said, grinning back.

  "Well folks," Joe said as waved his arm at the store, "looks like the stores open after all."

  Delbert, Bill, and Peggy, were all grinning too, and Delbert said, "If I ever lock myself out of my house, I guess I won't be asking you for help, Joe," he broke into a hearty laugh when he finished speaking, and within seconds they all found themselves laughing along.

  "Well, let’s go get that ammo," Becky said laughing, and they all walked into the shop.

  They spent no more than an hour in the shop, before they had completely re-outfitted themselves. They were able to obtain new camping gear, ammunition, and three more of the nine mm machine pistols. They all reasoned they were much more effective than the old single-shot rifles, and shotguns that Delbert's group had been carrying, and the fact that they would all now be able to use the same caliber ammunition was appealing.

  Joe picked up a canvas strap for the machine gun, that allowed him to keep it suspended from one shoulder, yet easily accessible to him if he needed it. The machine pistols fit easily into leather shoulder holsters, and there were more than enough in the shop for everyone. Joe debated briefly, and then took one more of the machine pistols, along with one of the leather holsters as well. He had a vague, uneasy feeling about the weapons. He felt as if he had joined some weird sort of commando outfit, instead of belonging to a group who had been nothing more than average citizens just a few short weeks before. He pushed the thought away, and after adjusting the leather shoulder holster, slid the fully loaded machine pistol into it, and fastened the small chrome push-catch across the blued steel grip of the weapon.

  They loaded all of the gear into the back of the Suburban, including every round of nine mm ammunition the store had in stock, which, Joe thought, amounted to enough to wage a small war with. After consulting the map, they set out once more.

  The shop had contained a great deal of pre-packaged freeze dried foods, and that had also found its way into the rear of the Suburban.

  ~ 2 ~

  Noon found them just outside of Gothenburg, Nebraska. Route 30. Joe hoped Route 30 would by-pass most of the moderately sized city. Becky had studied the map, but couldn't tell for sure whether or not it would. One thing's for sure, Joe thought, it's certainly less traveled.

  They had all noticed, and remarked on the fact that there had been no appreciable stalled traffic at all, and that had seemed good at first, until they had all begun to notice that someone had been at work either towing the cars off the roadway, or pushing them into the ditches along the side, where they still sat.

  "It don't necessarily have to be bad," Delbert said from the back seat, "could be some good folks."

  "Yeah," Becky agreed from the front seat, "could be. But also might not be."

  They were less than a mile from the city limits when they saw the road block.

  Joe bought the truck to a screeching halt, more than a half mile away at the crest of a slight rise, nearly as soon as it had come into sight. They could see better than a half dozen heavily armed men standing along the sides of two Nebraska State Police cruisers, pulled crosswise nose to nose blocking the road. The men had immediately snapped to attention when they spotted the truck, and were now staring in their direction. One of the men had quickly jumped into one of the patrol cars, and Joe assumed, after seeing him speaking into a hand held microphone, had probably radioed someone about them. Not good at all, he thought.

  "Them's the same bastards we saw the other day," Delbert said, "see that red pickup off the shoulder?"

  Joe nodded his head.

  "They was driving that truck, I recognize it, Joe. Was only two of 'em then, so I 'spect they didn't want to mess with us. Looks like they found some like-minded company though and that ain't good at all."

  Joe forced his heartbeat to slow down so he could think clearly. At first he had
been positive that the men would get in the cars and come screaming down the road after them. They hadn't, and in fact seemed to be just watching the Suburban to see what they were going to do. "I'm open to suggestions," Joe said.

  "First thing, Babe," Becky replied, "is to get the hell off the road. If they did radio someone they're probably on the way. I saw a dirt road that cuts off to the right about a half mile back, might be smart for us to get down it so we can think this thing out, before we're forced to fight it out right here."

  "That group could kill," Delbert said, "I saw the way they was looking at us, and especially Peggy, we don't need to let them get the upper hand, and right now we're on their terms. I 'spect they would just as soon kill us... well most of us, and I hate to think what they'd do to the girls."

  "This is one girl they don't want to screw with," Becky said angrily.

  "How far?" Joe said as he punched the gas and squeezed the wheel of the Suburban. He bounced the truck down off the road, and the rear tires threw up rooster tails of dirt and grass, as the truck slewed around, and came back up onto the road. The tires spun momentarily dislodging the grass and mud, then found their purchase and propelled them back down the road, away from the road block. Behind them they could hear the low pop of rifle fire from the direction of the road block.

  "Half mile, no more," Becky said.

  They were no more than a hundred feet down the road, when a blue Bronco appeared ahead of them moving toward them. A blonde haired man leaned out the driver’s side window holding what looked to be a sawed off shotgun.

  "Shit," Joe muttered, "Dell?"

  "Got it," he heard from the back seat. He heard the wind suddenly rushing into the trucks interior and realized that Delbert had opened the window, just before he heard the loud chattering of one of the machine pistols.