by Sweet, Dell
“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. “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, and you could even order the conversion kit, but if you got caught converting one or in possession of one that was converted, big trouble. I've seen a few in my neighborhood though...Just the same, and I'm glad that one fell into our hands, and not somebody else.”
Johnny 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,” Lana said. “I don't know what it's really called,” Johnny 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 wire 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?” Johnny asked.
“Just on the ammunition,” Lana answered, “the clips won't fit.”
“Well, with just sixteen bullets wouldn't it run out pretty quick?”
“Not pretty quick, 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 will hold two hundred.”
Johnny turned his head back to the other three who had been listening to Lana talk. They all seemed impressed. “I guess,” he said looking around the destroyed shop, “we better get going. Is that truck of yours in pretty good shape Scotty?”
“Junker,” Scotty 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; won't start if you don't, and to be honest, I been too damn scared to stop and get another.”
“Well,” Johnny said, “leave it. We got room in ours for all three of you.”
Lana 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, Johnny included, looked apprehensively around the empty shop.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Johnny 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, Johnny thought, as he looked around at the packed parking lot, anyone, anywhere. They reached the truck, Johnny unlocked it, and they all climbed quickly inside. Several sighs of relief were released once Johnny started the Suburban and drove from the lot.
A half mile down the road, Scotty spotted another store and Johnny 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 yet been in it.
“What do you think?” Johnny asked of no one in particular.
“Don't look as though it's been broke into yet,” Dave replied, “gonna have to leave the truck to be sure,” he finished with an apprehensive shrug of his shoulders.
Lana 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 Johnny could protest.
Johnny shut off the truck and got out. No way, he thought as he jumped from the truck.
Scotty looked from Dave to Amber. “I don't know about you, but they got the guns,” he said, as he opened one of the rear doors, and stepped out. He carried the empty shot gun with him as he went. Amber and Dave brought their guns out of the truck with them as well.
Johnny was staring through the segmented burglar door into the interior of the small shop, as Scotty walked up. “What's it looking like, Johnny?” he asked.
Lana was back on the sidewalk, the machine pistol in her hands, sweeping the parking lot with her eyes, Amber and Dave beside her.
“Looks like nobody got to it,” Johnny said, “what do you think, Scotty?”
Scotty squinted into the shop. “Hard to tell, but I think you're right, Johnny, it looks good to me. But this door is gonna keep us out, just like it's kept out everyone before us.”
“Uh-uh,” Johnny said, “not me it isn't.” He turned face and walked back to the Suburban.
“Look out, Scotty,” 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...”
Johnny 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 Johnny locked up the brakes. The light tap on the doors was all it took to shatter the safety glass. Johnny 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.
“He told me he was a farmer,” Lana said grinning. Amber laughed.
“Well folks,” Johnny said as waved his arm at the store, “looks like the store's open after all.”
Scotty said, “If I ever lock myself out of my house, I guess I won't be asking you for help, Johnny,” 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,” Lana 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 Scotty's group had been carrying, and the fact that they would all now be able to use the same caliber ammunition was appealing. 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.
Johnny 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. Johnny 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 the gear into the back of the Suburban, including every round of nine mm ammunition the store had in stock, which, Johnny thought, amounted to enough to wage a small war with. After consulting the map they set out once more.
The Tug Hill Plateau
Early Morning
The camp was a makeshift place off an old logging trail. It was dry under the pines where they had
set up camp, but the logging road had flooded over at some recent time in the past. The water had receded and left the road a quagmire of mud, steaming in the early morning sun.
They had encountered no major obstacles on the way in. The road in was cracked in a few places, flooded in a few others, but only a few inches of water. They had come in, in a downpour, but the major stuff had held off until after they had arrived and settled in.
Johnny had made to set up his own tent and Lana had stopped him without a word. Her hand fell on his wrist, and before he knew it her mouth was on his, soft but insistent. She pulled back with a slight smile, as she walked away Johnny wondered exactly what the change signaled.
They set up a watch, with extra eyes it was not so bad. Lana took the late afternoon watch, Johnny the first evening shift. The fire was low embers, the small encampment silent when he turned the watch over to Scotty and headed for the tent, she met him on the way and led him away from the fire. She spread a sleeping bag on the damp ground and then took his hand and pulled him down as he stood, unsure of what to do.
“Lana,” he breathed.
“Just come with me... Stop thinking, Johnny,” she told him. Her mouth found his and he stopped thinking.
Her hands worked at his pants zipper and he found his own hands had already solved that problem as he pushed her jeans down past her knees. His mouth found the hard plane of her stomach a second later, and her hand began to stroke the hair at the base of his neck, pulling him closer as he planted little kisses up across her breasts, teasing her nipples, and then back down.
“Please don't you take this the wrong way, Johnny,” she breathed. “Don't you do it,” she whispered as she pulled him down to the ground. “Come down here with me...”
~
The stars were hard diamond chips in the sky as they lay close together. Johnny sat up and lit a cigarette. His heart was a slowing hammer in his chest. He rolled his own cigarettes, everybody did it seemed. There was still plenty of tobacco just lying around behind glass doors and in locked cabinets. Funny how stress made you pick up the poisons again. Gamblers did it, alcoholics did it. Smokers too, he guessed. He wondered briefly how many people had quit smoking to live, only to be killed by what had happened, or the dead, or circumstances from all the fall out. He laughed lightly.
“What,” Lana asked.
“Not really funny... Ironic, I guess... I was thinking millions of people quit this to live... They're all dead and here we are.”
“Yeah, well, irony was never lost on life... Better give me one of those too,” she said.
“This is bad stuff, you know. It'll kill you deader than a cockroach,” Johnny told her. Cockroaches had not fared well in the rising of the dead and so it was joke among them if something wasn't doing well. The dead ate cockroaches like they were popcorn. Bad time to be a cockroach.
“Dios, mios. I had not intended to live forever, Johnny, now give me one of them damn things,” Lana told him.
Johnny passed her his own and then lit himself another.
“My, God. There is nothing that feels like that,” Lana said as she drew the smoke into her lungs.
“Reason it gets you,” Johnny agreed. “Hey... I guess we made a little change,” he laughed a little.
She looked up at him. “I hate to make decisions.”
“Me either, but” Johnny said.
“Yeah... But not now. Let's let things settle out a little more. You are not going anywhere are you?”
“No,” he laughed lightly. “Of course not, Lana.”
“Nunca te dejaré,” Lana said.
“What does it mean, Lana?” Johnny asked.
“It means, I will never leave you.”
Johnny nodded. “I feel the same, Lana. I do.”
“You better... I broke my own rules.”
“You won't be sorry,” he stopped as she curled into his side and nuzzled his chest.
“Your scent... Don't you find it is scent that gives you the most comfort? The most feeling of acceptance, belonging? Like, when I became used to you, your scent, I knew I had lost the battle, Johnny. I knew it was over right then.”
“But how do I win your heart, Lana. How do I do that?” Johnny asked in a near whisper.
“You just knock at the door, Johnny... Knock.”
Johnny reached forward and tapped lightly on her chest with one fist.
A single tear slipped across her cheek. “Tienes mi corazón... You have my heart.”
“I didn't mean to make you cry, Lana,” Johnny told her in a near whisper.
“Stupido,” She told him. “It's for a good reason.” She buried her face in his chest. “Whatever this is I don't want to lose it either.”
“You won't,” Johnny told her.
She looped one arm across his chest and pulled herself closer. “Better not.”
He pulled her close with one arm and took a deep pull from his cigarette with his free hand. The stars continued their slow journey across the blackness. He felt her breathing change a few moments later and he held her as she slept.
Morning of the third day
The last few days had bought rain, snow, and what felt like earthquakes or explosions far away. Heavy vibrations they could feel through the pine needle covered ground. No one was sure what they really were, but they were all worried about it.
They had made up their minds late last night, when the rains had stopped to get out of the woods. The truck turned over and started fine. They had spent most of the sunrise checking it over, but they found nothing wrong with it. They should have no trouble driving out of the forest lands.
“If we go, it should probably be soon,” Johnny said.
They had spent a great deal of the last few days wondering what was going on in the world. Twice on the first day a slow moving cargo plane had overflown them. They had seen no markings on the wings, but they had both been painted the olive drab of army equipment. They had heard the sound of it approaching early in the morning of the second day, but the engines had suddenly begun to sputter and cough, before it had come into sight the sounds of the motors had died away. A few seconds after that the northern horizon had erupted in a fireball. They had heard nothing more.
The battery powered radio they had picked up back in Syracuse had stopped working. They had hoped for a news update, a lone broadcaster, anything. But it had been solid static across the dial until the batteries had gone.
“It could have been that meteor... I think I read once that a near miss could be as bad as a direct hit. Mess things up the same as a nuclear bomb.” Scotty shrugged.
“But they said that would miss us completely,” Johnny threw in.
Dave nodded, “Maybe it didn't. Wouldn't be the first time they said something that turned out to be bullshit.”
“What? You don't trust your own government,” Amber asked in mock surprise.
“Yeah... Well, either way we're back to sticking it out here or going into the closest city to see what's going on... Or somewhere else for that matter,” Johnny threw out after a few moments of silence.
“I say we go... Maybe the guard is there, or has been there.,” Amber said.
“Can't hide out up here forever,” Dave agreed.
“We'll run out of food... At the least we have to stock back up,” Scotty added.
Johnny nodded. “We don't know how long this is going to be.”
“Or if it still is,” Lana added.
“There is that too,” Scotty agreed.
“At the least then we should go in and stock up. I mean if no one is there, we can stock up, come back here if it's bad and decide what to do... Get on with the old life if there is someone there,” Lana said.
“Seems like we would have heard sirens... Trucks, another plane when that other one went down... Nothing,” Amber said.
'Might not be anyone else... Might have been the last one,” Dave said.
“Hey, man. A little positivity wouldn't hurt,” Scotty said.
&
nbsp; “Just saying is all,” Dave said. He wouldn't meet Scotty's eyes and a few seconds later he walked away, making himself busy, checking over the truck.
“Just a kid, Scotty,” Johnny said.
“I know... I know... I'll fix it.” He walked off toward the truck. Johnny could tell he was disappointed in himself. They were both back a few moments later seeming as though nothing had happened.
“Okay,” Scotty said. “Might as well get going...”
“Who wants the front seat... Two,” Johnny asked.
“Probably the girls,” Dave said.
“Why is that,” Lana asked.
“What?” Dave asked.
“Why the girls,” She shook her head before he answered. “Well, I'm not a girl, I'm a woman. It was a rough road to become a woman, and I don't want to be called a girl.”
“Hey... Peace. I didn't mean anything by it,” Dave said.
The silence held for a few minutes.
Johnny laughed uneasily. “We need to get out of these woods... Getting a little stir crazy.”
“Well, let's get this place picked up... ... Maybe we'll come back,” Scotty said.
“Maybe not. So bring what you want to keep, only make it a small amount,” Johnny added.
A half hour later Johnny drove the Suburban down the logging road, sticking to four wheel drive and the sides of the road where he could. Twice he had to make everyone get out and push, and then take a run at a particularly bad section of road before they all climbed in once more. It was late morning before they found route 177. A short time later they found route 11 and headed toward the small city of Watertown.
