Read Online Walking in the Rain: Surviving the Fall by William Allen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William Allen
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assumed I knew how to use the weapon, and I filed the thought away for later but it did make me wonder about her parents. Maybe they were like mine.
Finally we were ready to go. With Ruth in the driver’s seat I expected Stan to climb in beside her, but instead he went to the back bench seat and began rigging up car seat out of Sophia’s baby carrier and some bungee cord from the truck bed. In only a few minutes he had a well anchored safety cocoon for his daughter. I looked at that sweet little face and began shucking out of my chest rig and other gear, removing the body armor and draping the Kevlar around the carrier until the baby was covered on all sides.
Ruth immediately realized what I was doing and came running around the front of the truck to give me a big hug, unmindful of the tears streaming down her cheeks. Stan gave a grin but clearly didn’t get exactly what happened. I asked for everybody to load up and we could talk on the road. Ruth returned to the driver’s seat, Stan sitting behind her. Amy sat in the back passenger side spot, leaving me shotgun.
“That’s a bulletproof vest, Stan. Luke took off his freakin’ bullet proof vest to protect our little girl,” Ruth gushed as she pulled the heavy pickup out onto the gravel road.
“Too hot anyway,” I said, embarrassed by the praise and kind words. Both had been pretty sparse on this trip.
We had only traveled a few hundred yards down the driveway when Amy spoke up.
“So, Luke, what exactly should we be looking for?”
Ruth braked and we sat there at the verge of the county road as I struggled to put my thought into words.
“Ahh, well, this is just based on what I’ve read and what my Dad talked about, but we need to each take responsibility for a piece of the perimeter and watch for any movement. That sounds easier said than done I know,” I held up a hand to forestall any complaints,” but each one of us needs to be watching constantly.”
“This reminds me of a movie I saw once,” Stan piped up, “about bomber air crews in World War II where the gunners all had a sector to watch for enemy fighters. That way they could coordinate fire.”
“That’s a great example, Stan. Yeah, like that. Would be better if we had someone in the truck bed to watch our rear, but there’s just the four of us. Think of the world around us as a clock, with straight ahead as twelve o’clock and directly behind us as six o’clock. Middle right is three o’clock and middle left is nine o’clock. Everybody got that?”
I received two “yeahs” and a “pleeeease” from Amy that made me grin. I’d already run that drill with my friend until she was proficient in making the call.
“Now Stan, you’ll need to help Ruth cover her sector more, since she is going to be more focused on straight ahead, but I’ll help there as well. Amy, you just keep doing like you’re doing, scanning for trouble to that side and the rear. Look for movement, anything disturbing the grass or any objects out of place. Desperate people might try to roll something into the road to stop us, so two vehicles might be pushed close together to make a choke point.”
“Or they might shoot at us,” Amy continued.
“Or they might shoot at us,” I echoed, “and if they do, unload everything you have in their direction while Ruth stomps on the gas. And Ruth, if somebody steps in front of you, do not hesitate to run over them, alright?”
“You got it” was all she said as she shifted back into gear and turned right on the road. This was a dusty little county road that eventually fed into a larger highway headed west, towards Siloam Springs and our destination.
We settled into watchful silence as each one of us practiced our terrain scanning abilities, something that turned out to be more difficult than I first figured. Keeping your eyes constantly moving without being distracted, while mentally preparing to shoot at anything
Finally we were ready to go. With Ruth in the driver’s seat I expected Stan to climb in beside her, but instead he went to the back bench seat and began rigging up car seat out of Sophia’s baby carrier and some bungee cord from the truck bed. In only a few minutes he had a well anchored safety cocoon for his daughter. I looked at that sweet little face and began shucking out of my chest rig and other gear, removing the body armor and draping the Kevlar around the carrier until the baby was covered on all sides.
Ruth immediately realized what I was doing and came running around the front of the truck to give me a big hug, unmindful of the tears streaming down her cheeks. Stan gave a grin but clearly didn’t get exactly what happened. I asked for everybody to load up and we could talk on the road. Ruth returned to the driver’s seat, Stan sitting behind her. Amy sat in the back passenger side spot, leaving me shotgun.
“That’s a bulletproof vest, Stan. Luke took off his freakin’ bullet proof vest to protect our little girl,” Ruth gushed as she pulled the heavy pickup out onto the gravel road.
“Too hot anyway,” I said, embarrassed by the praise and kind words. Both had been pretty sparse on this trip.
We had only traveled a few hundred yards down the driveway when Amy spoke up.
“So, Luke, what exactly should we be looking for?”
Ruth braked and we sat there at the verge of the county road as I struggled to put my thought into words.
“Ahh, well, this is just based on what I’ve read and what my Dad talked about, but we need to each take responsibility for a piece of the perimeter and watch for any movement. That sounds easier said than done I know,” I held up a hand to forestall any complaints,” but each one of us needs to be watching constantly.”
“This reminds me of a movie I saw once,” Stan piped up, “about bomber air crews in World War II where the gunners all had a sector to watch for enemy fighters. That way they could coordinate fire.”
“That’s a great example, Stan. Yeah, like that. Would be better if we had someone in the truck bed to watch our rear, but there’s just the four of us. Think of the world around us as a clock, with straight ahead as twelve o’clock and directly behind us as six o’clock. Middle right is three o’clock and middle left is nine o’clock. Everybody got that?”
I received two “yeahs” and a “pleeeease” from Amy that made me grin. I’d already run that drill with my friend until she was proficient in making the call.
“Now Stan, you’ll need to help Ruth cover her sector more, since she is going to be more focused on straight ahead, but I’ll help there as well. Amy, you just keep doing like you’re doing, scanning for trouble to that side and the rear. Look for movement, anything disturbing the grass or any objects out of place. Desperate people might try to roll something into the road to stop us, so two vehicles might be pushed close together to make a choke point.”
“Or they might shoot at us,” Amy continued.
“Or they might shoot at us,” I echoed, “and if they do, unload everything you have in their direction while Ruth stomps on the gas. And Ruth, if somebody steps in front of you, do not hesitate to run over them, alright?”
“You got it” was all she said as she shifted back into gear and turned right on the road. This was a dusty little county road that eventually fed into a larger highway headed west, towards Siloam Springs and our destination.
We settled into watchful silence as each one of us practiced our terrain scanning abilities, something that turned out to be more difficult than I first figured. Keeping your eyes constantly moving without being distracted, while mentally preparing to shoot at anything
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