feeling queasy. We all agreed that the truck alone might not be sufficient. Somebody has to be in the back making a lot of noise to really have a chance at this plan working.
There was a discussion as to whether one or two should be sufficient. I put my foot down and said that I would only be willing to risk one person. Whomever it was would have their choice of handheld weapons, a pistol-grip shotgun that holds five shells with a bandoleer of twenty reload rounds, and a single handgun with a half-dozen spare mags. We each put a tiny rock with our initials on it. This was the other part of the argument…and I lost. I didn’t want any of the women in this sinister lottery.
“The old ways were long gone, Steve.” Teresa had actually sounded like she felt sorry for me or something. “Each of us has to step up when things get crazy. I’m not being a feminist or anything.” Barry had tried to interrupt, but she raised a hand his direction to indicate silence. “The time for the women to hang back or let the men shoulder the lead is dead. Probably forever.”
We agreed that there would be three stones drawn. The first would be in the back of the truck. The second had the unpleasant duty of keeping a scope trained on the person in the truck—none of us wanted to be torn apart, and would prefer a quick bullet to the head if things go badly. The third is the back-up in case the one person is unable to pull the trigger. I drew that task.
“They seem more spread out from here,” Melissa whispered. She’d “won” the lottery. Aaron was drawn second. From the look I’d seen in his eyes, I was already consigned to the fact that it would be me pulling the trigger.
Randi would be in one of the Hummers, prepared to swoop in and gather up the survivors. Dave had given us the method to make contact with them. We’d tried the radio, but I guess that, in their hurry to get up to the roof, they didn’t have time to grab it. Dave had us write a note that we secured with a bit of thread from Dr. Zahn’s medical kit to an arrow. I guess his hobby was archery. Who knew? He had a composite bow and a box with a hundred or so arrows in it packed in the vehicle. Honestly I didn’t think he had the strength. He moved to a place he was happy with and fired one arrow—I imagine to get a range or fix, whatever—then another with the note. We watched the small group gather around. A few started hopping up and down like their names had been called to “C’mon down!” on The Price is Right .
Teresa would be with the girls in the other Hummer. She would pull up to a spot we determined as the pick up location. Melissa would jump out—if she made it. It was a large grassy patch on a gradual uphill slope about a half of a mile from the warehouse. That spot was chosen for two reasons, First, the slope would slow the vehicle down just a bit, and second, it was the softest looking place for somebody to land.
I saw Barry step out from the cover of the truck and wave his arms. That was the signal.
“Okay, Melissa,” I grabbed her by the arms and turned her towards me, “follow that fenceline and down that ditch. Come up when you see the second overhead walkway. If anything—”
“Steve,” she put her finger on my lips, “I know. We went over it.”
“It’s just—” she cut me off again.
“It’s just that I’m a girl and you are being a total guy about this,” she said “guy” like it was a bad thing.
“Be careful,” I sighed.
“See you in a little while.” She winked and kissed me on the cheek.
I watched her scurry away, hunched over to stay behind as much cover as possible. Still, by the time she reached the tall fence and made a run for the ditch, she already had a few dozen of the things on her trail. Her ponytail bobbed like a lure leading the fish to the juicy worm. Then she slid down the embankment that would take her to the wide ditch where some sort of runoff used to flow. A cold feeling flooded into my
There was a discussion as to whether one or two should be sufficient. I put my foot down and said that I would only be willing to risk one person. Whomever it was would have their choice of handheld weapons, a pistol-grip shotgun that holds five shells with a bandoleer of twenty reload rounds, and a single handgun with a half-dozen spare mags. We each put a tiny rock with our initials on it. This was the other part of the argument…and I lost. I didn’t want any of the women in this sinister lottery.
“The old ways were long gone, Steve.” Teresa had actually sounded like she felt sorry for me or something. “Each of us has to step up when things get crazy. I’m not being a feminist or anything.” Barry had tried to interrupt, but she raised a hand his direction to indicate silence. “The time for the women to hang back or let the men shoulder the lead is dead. Probably forever.”
We agreed that there would be three stones drawn. The first would be in the back of the truck. The second had the unpleasant duty of keeping a scope trained on the person in the truck—none of us wanted to be torn apart, and would prefer a quick bullet to the head if things go badly. The third is the back-up in case the one person is unable to pull the trigger. I drew that task.
“They seem more spread out from here,” Melissa whispered. She’d “won” the lottery. Aaron was drawn second. From the look I’d seen in his eyes, I was already consigned to the fact that it would be me pulling the trigger.
Randi would be in one of the Hummers, prepared to swoop in and gather up the survivors. Dave had given us the method to make contact with them. We’d tried the radio, but I guess that, in their hurry to get up to the roof, they didn’t have time to grab it. Dave had us write a note that we secured with a bit of thread from Dr. Zahn’s medical kit to an arrow. I guess his hobby was archery. Who knew? He had a composite bow and a box with a hundred or so arrows in it packed in the vehicle. Honestly I didn’t think he had the strength. He moved to a place he was happy with and fired one arrow—I imagine to get a range or fix, whatever—then another with the note. We watched the small group gather around. A few started hopping up and down like their names had been called to “C’mon down!” on The Price is Right .
Teresa would be with the girls in the other Hummer. She would pull up to a spot we determined as the pick up location. Melissa would jump out—if she made it. It was a large grassy patch on a gradual uphill slope about a half of a mile from the warehouse. That spot was chosen for two reasons, First, the slope would slow the vehicle down just a bit, and second, it was the softest looking place for somebody to land.
I saw Barry step out from the cover of the truck and wave his arms. That was the signal.
“Okay, Melissa,” I grabbed her by the arms and turned her towards me, “follow that fenceline and down that ditch. Come up when you see the second overhead walkway. If anything—”
“Steve,” she put her finger on my lips, “I know. We went over it.”
“It’s just—” she cut me off again.
“It’s just that I’m a girl and you are being a total guy about this,” she said “guy” like it was a bad thing.
“Be careful,” I sighed.
“See you in a little while.” She winked and kissed me on the cheek.
I watched her scurry away, hunched over to stay behind as much cover as possible. Still, by the time she reached the tall fence and made a run for the ditch, she already had a few dozen of the things on her trail. Her ponytail bobbed like a lure leading the fish to the juicy worm. Then she slid down the embankment that would take her to the wide ditch where some sort of runoff used to flow. A cold feeling flooded into my
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