by Marcus Sloss
‘The asteroid approaching is hostile aliens; you have been warned.’
“Efficient. Bat shit crazy without the video though. Hey, what are you doing?” Willow said as I grabbed a blue pen with a long twine taped to the end that anchored it to the board. I wrote on the paper below Torrez’s writing. Willow did that annoying thing where people read out loud what you write. “I am the asshole buying all the ammo. This message is real and when you realize I was right you will be too late. Signed, Asshole.”
I chuckled. Okay, when a hot babe reads over your shoulder in a sultry tone the annoying factor vanishes. Who knew? With that done, I went for the third store I knew Torrez was in.
“You missed a comma back there,” Willow said.
“Ugh, not you too,” I snickered happily.
This old K-Mart had a dozen of these moms and pops little stores. These were not booths in a traditional sense. They were conex containers welded together with the sides cut out to widen the footprint. The doors had been torched off and re-welded to only have two swinging doors propped open when in business. Saturday afternoons were typically a good sales day. At least, that is what Torrez said. There was traffic flowing out of the shops with people conversing inside and outside the containers.
The second store played soft classical music. There was a hidden society here. Sure, not everyone was a veteran, but they also were not all death metal, mohawk wearing, tattoo-covered bad-asses. I happened to be in a regular DU white shirt - that smelt of lady lavender from Willow wearing it - and a pair of khaki cargo shorts. A few men and women were in business attire as they shopped. The third store’s sign read ‘Colorado Springs Weaponsmithing & More’. Yup, that was where Torrez should be.
“Woah,” Willow said as we crossed the opening into the store.
“Torrez!” I shouted an echo to my friend. I was never big on the separation of fraternization with enlisted. I had started life as a high-school popular kid, turned popular bouncer, friendly jail mate, and stayed a charismatic man until we were abandoned in Saudi Arabia. So, I was not always a recluse shut-in. Seeing old friends and making new ones seemed to be what I needed to pull myself out of my enclosing shell. “Where are you?”
Miguel Torrez popped out of a small closet room hauling an ammo crate with .22 plastered on the side of it. An elderly man was at the counter and he pointed for the box to be set down.
“Be right with you, Cap”
“You made Captain?” Willow asked in a rhetorical tone, while picking out a set of gray combat fatigues. They were slightly faded in color but would work great. “Wow, seven dollars? That’s it?”
I sensed an arrival into the store behind me. An intensely muscled woman unplugged her single earbud that blared heavy metal. She wore a biker’s vest that was black without a single stitching on it. Her slick shaved head had a mohawk and her forearm had a tattoo that read ‘Try Me’. Okay, sometimes the proverbial shoe fits. The signs Willow had thrown out in her struggles to find attention were immediately picked up on by this masculine woman. In this setting, I felt the conflict would be avoided. Post whatever hell the aliens unleashed…
“She is with me,” I said with a grunt.
“Such a pretty thing, Becca,” Becca said and shook my hand.
“Hey, I am right here,” Willow said as Becca and I started a squeezing contest.
“My name is Eric. I can cheat,” I said, applying a little more pressure.
“Your hand feels like my strap-on. You don’t think I know you’re wearing a cover? I want to see the strength… Agg…” Becca said and yanked her arm back to release her grip. Her face flared red as she gave a painful shaking of her hand. “Damn fine work. Mine is better. Check this out.”
Becca stood on her tippy-toes of her right leg. There was a metallic clink noise that came from her ankle. Her long pants covered the joint and the bottoms of the jeans were frayed from drag damage. I was watching her pants spin when I looked up. She was doing hilarious ballerina poses while twirling in swift circles. Her foot was not moving.
“Machine from the knee down. That is how I know Torrez here. I was run over not three days before the big retrieval from Saudi. Were you one of the unfortunate souls abandoned like Torrez?”
“That is Captain Yang,” Torrez said over his client’s shoulder.
“Fuck me, Sir! No wonder Dr. Gepstein said his most promising work was congregating in Denver,” Becca said, waiting for the old man to finish his transaction before saying too much. “What is the pretty one’s name?”
“Again, I am right here, and my name is Willow. Nice to meet you, Becca,” Willow said and they had a firm shake.
“Pet or recruit?” Becca asked without context, trying to be sneaky.
“Willow is an excellent markswomen, can run ten miles, excellent with knots, and can survive in the woods without getting lost. The bonus is I am confident she is a bombshell under those clothes,” I said and Willow scoffed with a rosy blush. The old man left while giving me an odd look. Torrez’s legs whined while he walked to the doors. The big boxy doors creaked and groaned as they partially closed. “How you holding up, Torrez?”
Torrez was five foot eight with a dark tan skin tone. Black hair grew in excessive locks that needed a cut. A mustache sat over his lip and a bubbly scar carved down the right side of his neck. He walked in shorts with flesh covers over his mechanical legs. The man had a grenade that rolled between his legs. He sat cross-legged, smothering the explosion and literally took one for the team. Jevon and I counter-attacked to give the medic time to save his life. Two tourniquets later and he survived against the odds. Dr. Gepstein returned his legs and Maria accepted him home as-is.
“This job is a godsend. Jasmine is excited to see me when I come home, while Maria is not trying to force me back into DU. Willow, was it? Go get changed so you fit in,” Torrez said while tossing Willow an NRA shirt and plain cargo shorts.
“Is it that bad?” Willow said hesitantly.
“Not really, just doesn’t hurt to be a Roman when in Rome. If the Cap didn’t mention you were competent, I would be concerned. Grab a pair of boots too. The desert ones,” Torrez said while pointing at a rack of new and used boots.
“One nickname, let’s not confuse people as we add to the team,” I said.
“You running the show?” Becca asked. When I hesitated, she played the recording. I waited for the end. She had the same guardian angel that mentioned her connection had been erased. “Torrez said he had the same final message.”
“Jevon did as well, did you all get the money?” I asked.
“A hundred k, I about jizzed in my pants,” Becca said while flaying her fingers wide to mimic an explosion. “Always preferred the term jizz over sploosh. Sue me.”
“I got a hundred thousand as well. How about you, Cap?”
“Eleven million - same as Jevon,” I said.
Torrez reacted by running his hands through his hair in frustration. Becca let out a long whistle.
“Jevon is Captain Moore, correct?” Torrez asked and I nodded.
“Yeah, see my point? We will go on a single name basis. We’ll let Jevon figure out what he wants to go by. I guess I can go by Yang for now -”
“You are Cap and Yang. We need a leader with a leadership identifier. So, I was on the fence of this being real,” Torrez said and paused when Willow exited the changing curtain. A genuine smile crossed my face and I held out a hand for her to accept. Willow looked ready to go hiking and she had even removed their makeup. My hand was accepted and she folded into my chest. I nodded for Torrez to continue. “I showed Maria the file. She believed it more than me. She also said the money was our chance to get away. I… I may have argued it was a trap. A way to rope me into committing a crime -”
Becca interrupted by slamming him hard on the back. Her loud laughter echoed across the enclosed metallic container. She caught her breath and said, “You’re an idiot, Torrez. Uncle Sam is not going to put experimental hundred million dollar
legs in your body and then provide you with a hundred k to hang yourself with. Silly.”
“That was what Maria said. I was just… This is big and we are home, Cap. We are finally safe. I feel normal again to an extent,” Torrez said with a meek tone and slumped shoulders.
A placed my free arm around my friend and embraced him.
“Group hug!” Becca said, piling into the group.
Willow gave an eek. As awkward as the hug was, it just felt right for the moment.
“I… I shut down when we got home. I cannot be the hermit loner trying to cope with his past. I have to be the officer now. We are going to prepare like this is the real deal, and then if it is not, I will take full responsibility,” I said, breaking up the hug. “Alright, we have an epic amount of work to complete in the next four days. If you are in, you need to tell your boss you have a family emergency, or better yet, the truth. Becca, what is your status?”
“Oh, I am staying at the Motel 9 about ten miles west of here. I left with a bag and that…”
“Hold on,” I went and punched up the Motel 9 she was staying at on my Gpad. I booked a dozen rooms. “Okay, that is our rally point for now. We all will stay there starting tonight. Torrez, take a day or two to prepare your family. Tomorrow I am going home shopping so you may just move into there. I am getting ahead of myself though. Becca, go buy a truck and then a trailer. Electric-only and stuff the back with ATV’s and bikes. If there are extra solar panel options, get them and extended battery life.”
“Sure thing, Cap,” Becca said, pumping her eyebrows. “I do not have my carry permit for this state, so it is probably best if you do all the gun buying anyway. I am sure you will buy excessively.”
“After what happened in Saudi, we certainly will,” Torrez said in a disgruntled tone. He went back behind the counter and pulled out an inventory tablet. “Mr. Nasla hates putting his stock on the Gnet. While his inventory lists are accessible to the government - for people like us. You have to browse off of this. Ammo is our big concern. Even if we get the new laser rifles, they need power only being on the grid can quickly provide. Last I saw, a study showed a hundred panels would take a full day to charge one inducer. Those weapons have been so overhyped.”
“I heard President Hansen was buying up all the ammo,” I said. “I intend to get lots of solar panels too.
“Hey, you guys figure this out. I am off. Nice to meet you, Cap and Willow. See you tonight,” Becca said while exiting the partially closed door.
“I like her,” Willow said to no one in particular.
“Yup, she is a keeper. Notice how I gave a few words and she is off to complete her mission. No endless questioning or quibbling. She definitely will fit right in. I wonder who else Dr. Gepstein will send our way. So, what are inventory numbers saying we should purchase?”
Torrez scoffed and said, “Cap, not many vets would question your orders. You earned your bars on your shoulder. Not many…” Torrez winced painfully at his own thoughts. “How about we talk war stories some other time? We might get all emotional and we need to focus. We are overstocked on .308 caliber rounds.”
“That will work. I much prefer the harder punch. Our 5.56 was not nearly effective enough.”
“Well, this is the one thing that everyone has in stock. Since the assault rifle ban for 5.56 went into effect, it really has forced a lot of conversions. If you go back, there was a push to multi caliber systems about a decade ago. We will be limited to semi-auto ten round magazines,” Torrez said with an angry grunt while I frowned. A larger carrying load would be nice, but we could always try to build or modify something down the road. “I know, there simply is not another option. Pew-Pew Emporium has probably a few million .308 rounds floating between all the stores and thousands of carbines that we can use. What were you thinking?”
“Something standard. Sure, we will have to zero and dial each on it but shit. If I am constantly firing a Remington .308, I can walk my rounds in. Sure beats picking up an unfamiliar weapon and wondering why the hell the safety is under the scope.”
“Okay anything besides the .308s?”
“How is fifty cal looking?”
“A few barrett long rifles in the Gunrific Denver Store at the end. All are used older models. We have no ammo for it here. Would need to ask them. You're thinking just in case?”
I nodded and Willow cleared her throat to indicate she wanted to speak.
“I have not fired a .308. When I rented weapons at the range, they never stepped me up to that power,” Willow said with raised shoulder and palms up. “Sorry, I do not want to upset you when I take time to acclimate.”
“Well, Maria has never fired a gun at all. I am not too concerned with having to adapt to the weapons,” Torrez said. He gave a pause and then let out a long sad sigh. “Everything comes down to ammunition. Even with the reloading tools available today, getting casing has never been harder. We can snatch up a lot of 9mm but they put limits on purchase amounts. No one does that for .308 though. See check this out, Colorado Springs Weaponsmithing & More order list lets me clean out the entire ammo list. We are talking a hundred thousand rounds. Huh, I wonder where all this is stored.”
“As much as I like your job and your boss, it might be best to buy from the wholesaler directly. At least for the big stuff. Then again, the more you spend in one place, the less headache we will have,” I said and Torrez shrugged with an inclined bob of his head in agreement.
“I am due for a lunch break anyway. I will close the shop and we can go straight to the big guy. Gunrific is my favorite place in here,” Torrez said, shooing us out of the shop.
A few curious folks had been waiting to get into the shop. There were some frustrated sighs when Torrez folded the conex doors and locked the container. I grabbed the old clothes Willow was awkwardly carrying and tossed them in the nearest garbage bin.
“Did you charge me for those yet?” I asked.
“I covered them before we left. The cameras track everything and are handled by the security company. They monitor that stuff like hawks,” Torrez said while indicating the nearest camera.
The whirl of hips servos increased in volume. The machines moving Torrez’s body gave a unique noise. I was fortunate with my arm and its limited notice the covered machine generated. Based on the lack of a reaction, Torrez was unaffected by the sounds of his cybernetic legs. He told me Jasmine loved them and they used the advanced technology as a bonding tool. With the store secure, we left for the biggest shop in the Emporium.
The foot-traffic was light in the middle walkway that contained benches and trash cans. Fake and real plants contrasted the metallic feel that mixed with the shiny white floors. Boot marks scuffed the buffed floors from heavy use. A few consumers carried bags with clothing or gear. Weapons were normally shipped to a confirmed authorized address after purchase via the drone Gnet. When we passed a dad carrying his little girl, Willow eyes widened with longing. I could only imagine how seeing other happy kids with their fathers would affect me if I had grown up without a dad.
Afternoon, howdy, hello, and how are you doing? We heard those frequently in passing. I replied in some short version every time, unlike in the park. The occupied benches and people conversing on the outsides of stores would give friendly waves that we returned.
“I love these places. We only went to the bass pro in Kentucky and people were just as friendly there,” Willow was while putting a hand out for a high five from a little boy walking the opposite way. “Mom never let me buy more than a short-range taser and a small twenty two pistol for self-defense. State law prohibited the weapon from crossing the state line with the pistol, so I sold it before I left.”
“First thing I did after moving here was get my concealed carry. I felt so naked without a weapon,” I said, and Willow started to pat under my armpits.
“Wait, you had your shirt off. I want to know about those scars at some point, and if your gun is not under your pits…” Willow said while trying to de
duce where I concealed the weapon.
“I am wearing special underwear. My dick is tucked to the left and my small pistol to the right. Uncomfortable is an understatement. However, I prefer it to being weaponless. Hey, get your hands out of there.” I slapped Willow’s playful hands that tried to dive into my underwear to verify my story. “I will show you later.”
“Promise!” Willow said while wiggling her brows in a teasing gesture.
“Cap, you found a wild one,” Torrez said.
“Apparently, I make her kitty purr.”
“Meow!” Willow said, giving air claws.
“May even get Maria to loosen up. She has gotten so serious as of late, and I am talking about before this news hit us. I really think the mom factor is setting in with Jasmine. Funny how much having children can change a person.”
We arrived at the Gunrific Denver Store, which mimicked a true store. There were glass windows displaying racks of weapons assigned by caliber. Those racks were sectioned into portions containing weapon types. Signs hung over every area for clear information on where to go if you were hunting something specific. There was no guard at the door and when we entered, the chime alerted the clerks of the new customers arriving. We were welcomed and I felt like I was in heaven. I just so happened to have money burning a proverbial hole in my pocket and this was the perfect place to alleviate my problem.
CHAPTER 4
All the wondrous weapons drew my eyes in, competing for my attention. I could not pick a single focal point as my desire to study every weapon consumed me. Torrez nudged me forward to the carbine section with a slight chuckle at my boyish behavior. His fast legs left me behind, forcing a trot to catch up. We reached a browning rack when Torrez muttered and cursed under his breath.
“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to see what had flustered him.
“These browning Bar MK3s were an easy choice at seven pounds, short barrels, and ten round quick swap magazines. They are all sold. This whole rack is sold -”
