Read Online The Remaining: Trust: A Novella by D. J. Molles - Free Book Online Page B

keep them warm. Things they could use to build other things they thought might make their lives easier. They worked on cars to help them scavenge outside of the Green Zone. Dirt bikes were popular tools for that, though they obviously couldn’t carry much. Whatever vehicle you chose, it had to be a gasoline engine. All diesel fuel was appropriated by the military. Your ration card could be revoked for a period of two weeks if you were found hiding diesel fuel. But not much in the military ran on regular gasoline, so if you could find it and reinvigorate it, then you could use it.
    As the convoy rolled through the streets, some of the people stood and watched them.
    A few excitable children waved. Yelled for the candies from MREs. They’d learned quickly about some soldiers’ superstition on eating Charms candies out of an MRE, and they knew that it was the most likely treat to be thrown out.
    “Mr. Army Man!” they yelled. “Got any Charms? You guys got Charms?”
    “They’re bad luck! Throw them out!”
    Someone in the truck behind Abe threw one, pegged a kid in the forehead with it. Abe wasn’t sure whether the aim was deliberate or not, but the kids didn’t seem to care. They hooted and hollered and mobbed the kid with the candy, all trying to get a piece.
    Abe disliked how much all of it reminded him of the Middle East.
    His eyes stayed on the adults now, slightly narrowed, his jaw clenched. In his seat, behind his door, he had gone “southpaw” on his rifle so he could more easily bring it up through his open window. He watched their hands for weapons. Made eye contact with a few of them. And he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing.
    The Greeley Green Zone had seemed hopeful to him at first.
    He could ride through the streets and see the positive sides of it. The people getting back to basics. Using their ingenuity. Being resourceful. Working on the same team as the military to try to rebuild what they had lost.
    Whether or not it actually was, or was only perceived that way, it all seemed different now. Darker. Oppressive. The people seemed resentful. In their eyes he saw the thoughts of insurgents, waiting for Abe’s Humvee to wander into the blast radius of a cleverly disguised IED, sitting under a heap of trash on the side of the road.
    One big boom, and then ball bearings through your brainpan.
    Abe saw stacks of concertina wire and knew they had reached The Strip.
    The gate to The Strip was guarded, but only one of the men guarding it was a soldier. He wore ACUs and he stood back, a rifle slung on his back. He seemed to be in a supervisory role. The other two guards were the men in black and green with the red logo patch on their vests. They approached Abe’s Humvee, one on each side.
    “Who the fuck are these guys?” Tyler griped.
    Abe waited for them to draw close enough that he could read the patch. Then he answered, a mix of disdain and disappointment in his voice. “Fucking Cornerstone.”
    “Cornerstone?” Lucas spoke up from the backseat. “Like the military contracting company?”
    “Yeah.” Abe nodded, pulling out his Greely Green Zone ID.
    The two men reached the driver’s and passenger’s side windows.
    “ID, please,” the man in front of Abe said.
    Abe handed it over, eyeing the man in front of him. “That was pretty fucking fast. They were just talking this morning about using you guys.”
    The man looked at Abe’s ID, then handed it back with a shrug and a raised eyebrow. “They’ve been talking about it for weeks, actually. You guys are good. Have a nice day.”
    Abe pulled his ID from the man’s fingers, a little sharper than was necessary. He wasn’t known to pull rank on people, but he resented this newcomer ignoring any pretense of military formality. No “sir” or “major.” Just “you guys.”
    “Yeah,” Abe said under his breath, feeling a brick forming in his gut. “You, too.”
    The gates were rolled back and the convoy proceeded through.
    They passed