Michael raced to his friend's position keeping his eyes on the approaching van. Once both men were safely behind the truck they ducked down and waited for their enemy. Jack had the duffle bag on the ground. Michael started looking through the bag. He was digging through disassembled guns (which he had no time to put back together) but he did, in addition to his own Desert Eagle, find a revolver.
“They had to have a way to signal that van but I didn't see a radio on the one and you killed the other." Michael started.
"They didn't follow us from the school, the convicts here had no radio, so he had to follow us but how if they don't know where we live." Jack pondered at he double checked his rounds coming up a few shells short.
"Well they are here now so it's them or us." Michael tossed a box of shells from the bag.
Jack caught the shells and asked. “I guess you ready?" Jack thought Michael seemed a little too happy to be in a life or death gun battle.
"I’ve been good and ready for something like this again. Ready for a long time.” Michael shown a determined grin from ear to ear.
Jack had no time to worry about Michael's life defying fixation he dropped to his belly waiting for the perfect time for them to strike. From the ground looking under the truck he could see that the white van had pulled up very fast. The tire screeched to a halt and the side door slammed open as orange jumpsuits and even a white jumpsuit filed out of the van with guns in hand. As soon as the second man hit the ground Michael rose, arms outstretched, over the back of the pickup and fired both pistols repeatedly. Both his hands flying back just a little as each shot left its chamber. Left gun fired then his right. He hit an orange jump suited inmate and then shot the next square in the head. They kept rushing out. Michael guessed there had to be seven men in that van and at least two were down.Michael had ducked back down to reload his empty clips.
"What the hell is a matter with you? You know to give me a damn signal!" Jack rose from the ground and fired his shotgun. Hitting one making the rest scattered behind the van. Jack knew his shotgun could only scare them because its range was very limited. Michael had ruined a possible ambush. It was the obvious plan. They had worked together so much they never had to communicate obvious plans in the past.
While Michael continued to fire on impulse Jack decided he had to get closer. The van was almost parallel to the truck with the gas pump off to the right separating the two vehicles. He had to get there.
“Cover me.” Jack looked at the gas station.
"Ok!" Michael shouted over the hail of bullets pinging off the truck. Michael glanced to where Jack was looking. Michael then looked back at the van. A man had locked eyes with Michael and he recognized the convict and knew instantly that this guy was the inmate named Jesse he knocked out at the school. His fellow inmates must have picked him up a few hours ago.
Michael could hear him scream. “They are the ones who stole my truck and killed Paul!” He repeated it a couple more times so all of his friends could hear. Michael let off a flurry of bullets.
Jack used that time to make his move. Using the distractive shouting from the convict as cover, he ran to the pump taking care not to be heard by the convicts. He crouched down and hid behind a pump. Jack was fully aware that he could not get caught at the pump, if one of those idiots would fire toward him they all would go up in flames. He needed to get the jump on them. He noticed the convicts trying to looking through the windows of the van to see if they could get a clear shot. Two came around the corner of the van and unloaded two sub machine guns into the side of the truck. Michael took heavy fire and couldn't get another shot off. It would only be a matter of time before they noticed Jack.
Jack stepped out from the pump aimed his shotgun and blew the two men against the van smearing it red. One of the convicts shot through the window and just barely missed Jack’s head. Jack ducked back behind the pump. That same convict kept shooting at the pump. Jack hoped the pump didn’t have any gas left because he wasn’t sure how many bullets it could take before it blew. The enemy kept shooting and pinned Jack down. He had to get away before it could explode.
Out of the corner of his eye Jack notices Michael rise up from the truck with an eerie smile on his face. Michael extended his pistols and hopped into the bed of the truck and then hopped out onto the parking lot. Pistols aimed he took off running toward the van. He was filled with a rage. It consumed his ability to sit and wait idly by for the murderers to decide if they want to step around the van and take a shot. Michael aimed. The remaining five convicts had noticed Michael advancing quickly. He forced the last few from their hole. They stepped around the van and started firing. Michael began laughing and running harder towards the convicts. He wanted them to fire at him. He wanted the adrenaline rush. He wanted to feel invincible. He wanted to let the anger flow, it was his only real release. His face lit up with a sly smile. Michael fired twice and hit two people. A bullet hit his shoulder but he held his pistol high and kept both guns firing, the soldier felt little pain. He shot another convict down. A few bullets flew past Michael but none were piercing. There was a man in a white jumpsuit that seemed to be leading that small band of freed convicts and child murderer Jesse. Michael took aim for Jesse but the two sprinted for the van. Michael's bullets missed by inches. Jesse disappeared around the corner of the van and sprinted for the driver seat. Michael had already aimed and fired again and the bullet that was meant for Jesse but hit the white suited convict instead. The convict fell as the white van sped off leaving smoke lingering in its place. Jack rose from behind the pump. Michael appeared upset that Jesse had gotten away. He needed to pay for what he had done to the kids at the school.
“Now he is going to tell his friends about us. We have attacked them twice now. They will be a little more than mad.” Michael wiped the hair out of his face and looked about himself. Orange suited bodies lay everywhere like smashed pumpkins on an october night. Bullets riddled the blood soaked cement. Michael took a breath. It was the smell of a battlefield.
“That’s true and the next time we run into them they will be ready but so will we.” Jack comforted his friend. Jack stood next to his friend, forgetting his failure to signal. It was hard to face this kind of carnage again. Death this close, committed by one's own hands never achieves normality.
"I still can't figure out how they arrived so fast unless we were followed. I want to know how those goddamn fuckers found us!" Michael questioned at a fever pitch.
There was a loud crack. Michael and Jack shot their heads in the direction of the sound and saw Pete sprawled on the parking lot clutching a handgun. He had crawled several feet. His aimed gun slowly fell. They heard a thud behind them just as Pete's gun clattered beside him. The two turned around to see the white suited convict crumbled in a heap clutching one of the sub machine guns that littered the ground. Caught up in their own thoughts, the two men never heard the convict get to his feet. Pete had killed him. Pete had saved their lives.
The two men reached Pete swiftly to see if he was still alive. He was breathing just faintly. The two men crouched next to the dying old man. Pete reached into his blood soaked shirt and pulled out a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it.
“Please… take care… of them.” Pete inhaled his last breath and slipped away clutching his opened stomach. The two men hung their head in silence out of respect for a man they knew for a large portion of their lives.
“Who do you think he wants us to take care of?” Jack asked. He reached up and closed the man’s eyelids.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if we're in the right condition to take on new people. I am just glad he saved our lives but we need to think about long-.” Michael was cut off.
Jack slammed his fist into the wall in outrage. "Dammit Michael I don't give a damn about your survival mentality right now. He was a friend and he saved our lives, we owe him his dying wish."
“We don’t have time to bury him. We should get back to the group.” Michael sta
ted coldly after a long moment of silence. Michael ignored his outburst. Jack would come around. Michael believed Jack's emotion would fade and logic would take over and Jack would make the right decision to ensure the group's survival.
“Let’s lay him on the break room table. We can close and lock the door so there is a smaller chance of anyone messing with the body.” Jack said while looking away, he was ashamed to look at his friend's face.
“Ok let’s do that.” Michael grabbed Pete’s legs.
Jack grabbed the old man from the shoulders and the two carried the body into the break room. They had to move the body carefully because the hollowed out stomach sloshed with blood and intestines, gently they laid Pete on the table. Jack crossed the man’s arms over his chest. It was sad to see the old man die in a world so harsh but the reality was it would only get worse. The two men both understood that they needed to get to work.
“I’m going to get some of these guns out of the parking lot. The convicts were surprisingly well armed. I’ll need some help with the gas barrels around back". Michael reached into Pete's pants pocket and retrieved his keys.
"I'll get the water and food ready for loading." Jack responded. Jack felt it was better to focus on work than to focus on the tension between the two.
Jack went back to his stack of water and Michael commenced picking up the guns outside. Jack found and old shopping cart and a dolly. The gas station only carried an assortment of junk food. Jack picked through healthier kinds of foods that would last long and give them protein. He took all the beef jerky, instant noodle cups, instant chili cups, and peanut butter crackers. Jack found a small section of shelf that contained canned goods, packaged noodles, and whole meals in boxes. He filled the cart with the items along with a few cases of beer, bottles of wine, cases of soda, and hard liquor. The liquor not only would help the group enjoy themselves in this new stressful life but it was a morale booster and also doubled as a sterilizer for any wounds that anyone of the group may obtain. He stacked the water on the dolly and wheeled it out next to the truck. He had to make two trips to get all the water plus the cart outside. He noticed the truck was littered with bullets holes. He wasn’t sure if the vehicle would even start. Two tires were busted and the front bumper hung on by a thread.
Michael noticed Jack looking at the truck. He picked up the last gun off the ground threw it in Jack’s duffle bag which was almost overflowing with assorted firearms. He then joined Jack. Jack noticed that Michael had bandaged his shoulder with gauze from his duffle bag.
“I don’t think it will start.” Michael hopped in the driver seat and tried to turn the engine but there was little more than a choke. He tried once more and smoke started to rise from the hood. It wasn't much smoke but enough to let the two men know that the truck was a no go.
"Look what I found. I picked off the white suit." Michael dangled from his finger a large key.
"It's a jailer's key."
"I'm sure it belongs to the prison. It might come in handy." Michael smiled.
“Let’s just go unlock the gas cans. We will find a vehicle somewhere else.” Jack ignored Michael's inclination to go to the prison. Besides it was suicide. There were probably way more of them there. Seeking that kind of retribution in the kind of world they now lived in would mean death. Jack did need to find away out of town before they attacked again. That part of the plan had changed. Any boarding up of the house would be temporary now that they have an actual enemy to look out for.
Michael got out of the truck and the two men walked around the back of the store. Once they arrived around the rear of the building they not only seen ten fifty gallon drums of gasoline but just beyond the drums of gas was a Mack truck with an old dark trailer attached. Jack and Michael looked at each other. Jack wasn’t sure if the truck was a blessing or a curse. The rig was full and stout. The rusting beauty gave just a hint of its once white color. It was a way home and plenty of space to store their plundered materials but Jack had no clue how to drive a semi.
Michael walked to the gas cans and unlocked the lock that kept the chain tight around the drums. He then stepped up to the door of the semi-truck and seated himself into the driver’s seat. Jack could see that Michael was searching for the keys. He checked under the seat and in the back and then finally he flipped down the visor and the keys fell into his lap. He stuck them into the ignition pulled a couple of levers and then turned the key. The engine roared to life. Michael gave a shout of excitement.
“You’re awesome. I didn’t know you knew anything about semis.” Jack was excited. The truck was a great find.
“My dad drove them and I’d always go along with him on his trips. I picked up a few things.” Michael’s face surged with a rare pride.
Once Michael had pulled the truck into the front parking lot the two men started loading the truck. Jack wheeled the dolly and the cart over to the truck. Michael opened the back of the trailer and inside was a large generator capable of powering a large building. Also in the truck was an assortment of camping gear: numerous sizes of tents, electric and oil lanterns, fishing gear, sleeping bags, folding chairs, collapsible tables, and many other kinds of trinkets that would make living out in the wilderness effective and comfortable.
Jack and Michael couldn’t believe their eyes. The supply was worth its weight in gold (if gold was worth anything anymore). It had totally shook the tension between the two. Excitement flowed. They were all business now.
“You know what this means,” Michael climbed into the trailer. “If or when we have to leave town we are set to camp comfortably.”
“Yeah I know but i'm thinking that we will have to leave.” Jack started to hand cases of water up to Michael.
“Yeah, they will come after now for sure. So we have to go. We can also fit a lot of people on here. We can do a little work and make this place cozy.” Michael looked around the structure of the trailer.
“Are you suggesting we be nomads? I was thinking storage not lodging"Jack mused
Michael laughed. "You never know what the situation might call for."
They sat there for a while with the tool box they found from the semi and they took the battery from their truck and the alternator. They punctured the gas tank and filled a jug with its contents. Both men understood that if they didn’t take the area for all its worth they may not get another chance to take anything of use. The sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon.
“Well we need to get back it is starting to get really late. That Jesse character sped off in a hurry so I don’t think that he would follow us. We should be able to make good time going home.” Jack finished.
Night was finally upon the group. Several times now they had heard gunshots and far away shrieks. The immense pressure of uncertainty was nearly unbearable. Even though the house was silent there wasn't a person not pondering Jack’s, michael’s, and Pete's well being. The TV kept a faint blue glow with no sound. It was kept on just in case authorities would give further instruction. One lamp along with the TV illuminated the living room. The children remained strong in spite of the sounds outside. The three sat in the floor playing a board game. Cody played the game with sluggish interest. The boy’s mind was clearly on his parents. Jordan and Jenna would exchange the occasional meaningful look of fear and worry but neither of the two hardened young adults would ever really admit it to one another. It was true that their fathers' had raised them a certain way. They had a pride about them brought forth by years of learning to use emotion to their advantage. Jordan never acted on his emotions in the fights with Cody and even though he was smaller he eventually came out on top. Jenna was smart enough to hide her cards. She was horrified at the thought of losing her dad. Her pride on the other hand allowed her to put a game face on and became a wall. A barrier holding back the tide of emotion.
Every so often when Rob would move to pick up his drink, Jordan would watch the man every second. Jordan observed that he had gone to the bathroom only once, he never left th
e room otherwise, and would exchange small talk with his mom when she had brought a tray of assorted somethings into the room for the others. Most of what he said was encouraging about the others at the gas station and the rest was complimenting the food she had brought. An obvious attempt to warm up and bridge the trust gap between them.
Marilyn would disappear into the kitchen a few times each to refill drinks and offer snacks. She felt she needed to keep herself busy. She didn’t know how to deal with what had happened. Jack had come and gone so many times. Each time he leaves his life is on the line each time. Her thoughts were always with Jack and yet he has gone again. Anything could happen to him and that would leave Marilyn to raise Jordan by herself in this horrid, scarred world. She calmed herself by starting a third batch of cookies. She had to keep going. It was her way to cope. She forced herself to think about the food and serving others but the more she focused on the food the more stress consumed her even further. She worried about cooking too much at once. Should the "smart army wife" conserve and ration? She paced the kitchen, feeling herself losing grip, Marilyn took a breath and tried to refocus her efforts so she turned from the snacks laid out before her and focused on one single item. So much had happened in the past eighteen hours that Marilyn felt she had to try and make the atmosphere homey. Bombs have gone off and Jack keeps running off. Marilyn started spreading the cookies on a pan. She didn’t want to wait for an explanation or a plan to be announced. She hated sitting around waiting and worrying. She slid the cookies into the oven wondering how long the power would stay on.
Rob sat on the couch. Every so often he would sip his glass of water or reach down and pet Jake. He felt out of place. Of course he didn’t belong. He was a stranger. He didn’t know anyone in the house. He knew he should’ve just walked right up to Michael and Jack and pleaded his case. It was his own fault that he felt not welcome. Rob could have done the whole ordeal differently. He should have planned more in advance. He felt like an animal in the zoo because one of the kids playing the board game kept watching his every move which, of course made him feel all the more untrustworthy to the rest of the group. Then again he didn’t see any reason why they should trust him.
No Time To Mourn Page 13
