by N.W. Harris
Shane put the kids to the task of gathering salvageable materials and supplies scattered by the storm and had Laura and Kelly listen to the scientist’s radio broadcast. A grumbling sound carried across the tarmac, catching Shane’s attention. A green army vehicle with a raised, boat-bow front end rolled toward him. It had eight wheels on four axles, a machine gun on top, and slits for windows.
He started to order the kids to crawl under the buses for cover, but a hatch on top of the angular vehicle flipped open, and Aaron popped up and waved at him.
Looking like it could climb straight up a tree, the vehicle pulled in front of Shane and stopped. A hydraulic pump whined, and the rear gate on the machine lowered down to make a ramp. Tracy and Aaron climbed out.
“This should do the trick.” Tracy almost beamed, though her tone was dispirited.
“What the heck is it?” Shane asked, studying the fierce vehicle.
“It’s a Stryker armored personnel carrier,” Tracy announced. “That’s a 12.7 mm machine gun on top, and those little tubes are grenade launchers. This baby should get us downtown—no problem.”
“Check this out,” Aaron said, waving Shane to the back of the Stryker.
Shane followed him up the ramp and into the belly of the machine.
“We found a bunch of guns and ammo.” Aaron showed him weapons stacked on the bench seats on either side of the Stryker.
“What’s that?” Shane pointed at blood spattering the walls.
“A couple of soldiers killed each other in here,” Tracy said curtly, seeming annoyed Shane would complain. “We cleaned up the mess the best we could.”
“It’s a reminder we might do the same if we don’t hurry,” Shane whispered. He surveyed the rest of the interior and added, “This thing doesn’t look like it’ll carry too many people. What about all those kids we’re responsible for?”
“We can’t take them with us,” Tracy answered, like it should have been apparent. “They’ll slow us down anyway.”
“What are we supposed to do?” He struggled to keep his anger in check. Tracy didn’t act like she had a heart half the time. She seemed to be looking for a way to ditch the kids. “We’ve brought them this far—we can’t just abandon them.”
“They’ll be safer here,” Aaron said from behind Shane. “Once we get down to Atlanta, we’re bound to find some trouble. Even if the buses would run, they won’t protect those kids.”
Did it make sense to leave the kids here on the base? It seemed somewhat safe and isolated. If all went as planned, they’d be back by nightfall. But the thought of abandoning them still made Shane uneasy.
“Do you know how to use these?” Shane asked, picking up a rifle.
“That’s an M-16,” Tracy replied. “And yes, I know how to use it. My dad got my JROTC unit access to the base’s shooting range a few times.” Tracy’s stoic face twitched, pain in her eyes.
It was the first time she mentioned her dad since they left the high school, heading to this base to find him. He had to be dead, just like all of the other adults. Shane again felt the urge to say something to comfort Tracy, but she seemed so tough that he feared anything he’d come up with would sound too awkward and would probably tick her off, so he kept quiet.
“Take a few of these guns and show some of the older kids who won’t be coming with us how to shoot them,” Shane ordered, putting the M-16 in her hands. “And leave them plenty of ammo. They’ll need it for protection while we’re gone.”
Tracy took the gun and nodded. Steve grabbed three more, carrying them to the kids who Kelly and Laura organized into two work groups. Shane had seen many types of guns growing up, most of them designed for hunting. But these, with their plastic stalks and black barrels, were made for one thing—killing people. In fact, he thought, glancing at a splatter of dried blood on the Stryker, these weapons had just killed people.
He jogged over and tried to find distraction in helping Kelly move sheet metal, the remains of the hangar, together to create lean-to shelters. Tracy took eight of the older girls behind the buses to give them a crash course on how to use the M-16s. Their eyes were wide with trepidation and missing any spark. He knew, especially after what they’d been through, they’d be able to defend themselves with the guns if they had to. Shane, Tracy, Steve, Kelly, and Aaron had already killed. He’d never get the images of those dying boys out of his head.
Once the shelters were finished, he helped Steve and Aaron gather supplies and stock the Stryker for the trip downtown. Shane called a meeting of the other four who had fought in the gym and Laura.
“We’ve all listened to the radio message,” Shane said, looking at each of his friends and hoping to channel Coach Rice once again. “We know we have to get downtown and shut the weapon off.”
Shane didn’t really have a plan. He hoped someone else would jump in, and their silence said they expected him to have the answers. He’d always dreamed of being a quarterback, but not when the life or death of the rest of the people on the planet was at stake.
“Tracy and Aaron found us this armored truck, which should keep us safe if we run into trouble,” Shane continued, patting the front of the Stryker. “Does anyone know how to get to the capitol building from here?”
“The Stryker is loaded with electronic maps, and it has GPS,” Tracy said. “We won’t have a problem finding our way.”
“What about all those kids?” Kelly asked, glancing over her shoulder at the groups huddled thirty feet behind her.
Shane expected the question. He looked at Tracy and then Aaron, hoping one of them would give Kelly the news. Of course, they didn’t answer.
“We’re going to have to leave them here,” Shane said, hoping he hadn’t just started a fight.
“What?” Laura asked, sounding flabbergasted and glaring at him.
“We can’t do that,” Kelly retorted. “Most of them are too young—they won’t be safe.”
“Tracy taught some of the older girls to use the guns.” Shane hated how the two girls had him backed in a corner. It wasn’t like this was all his doing. “You guys are free to stay here too, but we need all the help we can get.”
“Whose we?” Laura asked, glaring at each of them as if they’d been conspiring.
“I’m going,” Tracy said, the usual coolness in her voice. She didn’t break her gaze from Shane, barely acknowledging Laura’s complaint. “I’m driving the Stryker.”
“Me too,” Steve chimed in, leaning back as if he were trying to hide behind Tracy.
“I’m the best shot here,” Aaron said, arrogantly stating the obvious, “so I have to go.”
Shane figured it was pretty apparent he had to join the mission because no one else seemed to want to lead it.
“We need you two as well,” Tracy said. She was the only one who didn’t seem intimidated by the angry girls. “It might get ugly down there, and the more people we have, the better our chances.”
“And in a few hours, the animals might be attacking us anyway,” Steve said, poking his head out from behind Tracy. “We won’t be much help to these kids if we stick around.”
“I understand if you can’t come along, Kelly,” Shane said, “being that your little sister is here.”
Kelly looked over her shoulder at the group of kids huddled near a small fire built in front of the lean-to shelters. After a moment, she returned her focus to Shane. Her blue eyes had always seemed to glow, emitting a constant flow of joy that made him blush when she looked at him. His chest ached to see so much sadness and pain in her gaze now. With her staring at him, deciding if she should leave her little sister behind, Shane made a silent vow that after all this was over, and the weapon had been shut down, he’d find a way to make Kelly happy once again—he’d find a way to make her smile.
“I have to go,” she whispered. “I’m the oldest, so the animals will come after me first. It’s better if I say goodbye to her now than have her see me ripped apart like… like…” She looked at the
ground.
“Okay,” Shane said, rescuing her before she could say, like her parents. He cleared his throat and clapped his hands together. “Let’s say our goodbyes and get going. The sooner we shut that weapon down, the sooner we can get back here and make sure these kids stay safe.”
