The effect on my “captors” was immediate. I heard them all fall to the ground and start scrambling to scan the woods around them. They were disciplined enough not to yell out in the process. I stood in the same position with my hands up. This should delay them a little longer, and give my little squad time to get away.
“Call them off mister!” the man yelled at me. He must be the leader, since he seemed to be the only one from the mystery group giving me instructions. “We don’t want anyone to be harmed, we just don’t know who we can trust anymore. It has gotten worse in the last few weeks, and people are getting nervous about strangers!” he half yelled, sounding a little panicked.
Well that changed their tune quickly. They must be used to bluffing people into moving on. That will only work for so long. They must not have had that many encounters out here in the middle of nowhere. I had chosen this route to avoid major roads and towns, and by cutting across the land slowly we were able to avoid people. I got a little sloppy and ended up in this mess. It must be the starvation affecting my decision making ability.
“Listen, people. I really don’t want anyone getting hurt. My team is well trained and will only attack if they feel I’m in danger,” I said loudly enough to add some credibility to my lie. There was no way my team was about to take these people out.
Just then my radio crackled in my ear, “Mr. M, do you need us to engage?”
I threw my hands higher into the air, “Stand down!” I yelled. “We went over this a hundred times, you were supposed to follow protocol!” I didn’t bother using the radio, they were near enough for everyone involved to hear me. Even the unknown group was pointing guns either at me, or the nearest bush that looked intimidating.
This situation needed to be calmed down, or we were all going to die.
“Everybody, just relax,” I pleaded with both groups. I continued, “Let me just explain, and I think it will help avoid shooting each other, please? It’s too hot, and I’m about to pass out anyway.”
After several minutes of cajoling, we reached an uneasy truce of sorts. I asked the group around me to sling their weapons muzzles down, then I had my group do the same. At least I told them to. I still couldn’t see them in the forest arrayed around the other group. I asked the leader of his team to move them into the creek bed near the cottonwood tree. At least there we could talk in the shade.
I then got on the radio and told my team to go into the dried up creek about fifty yards down, and to slowly make their way toward that tree. It was a giant tree, so easy to identify as a landmark. The process was slow, but eventually I joined the unknown people under the tree where we waited for my team to appear.
The scene under the tree was not what I expected. The five people were mixed in ages, and race. The older man, the leader, had coffee colored skin and looked to be in his late forties to early fifties. He was dressed similarly to the rest of his group: jeans, sensible work boots, and dark button down shirts. They looked like farmers. Their weapons were a mixed bag of hunting rifles, a shotgun, and a long military surplus Russian bolt – action rifle that had a history that pre – dated the Second World War
The hunting rifles were slung muzzles down as I had requested. The carrier of the shotgun simply held it downward since it didn’t even have a sling. The smallest member of the team looked about twelve and was carrying the long Russian rifle. He had the same skin tone as the leader, and had a passing resemblance with the elder man. The man carrying the shotgun sported a thin mustache and straight dark hair that was sticking out from under his hat, and the two members with scoped hunting rifles were women. The two ladies looked to be about the same age, mid – thirties to forties, but they could actually be younger in years. They may have been caucasian, but their faces were deeply tanned by the Texas sun. Their features may have been European, but at first glance I didn’t really know. For all I knew, everyone was actually younger than I had first estimated, the last few months had aged everyone prematurely.
The leader was standing alert with a familiar AR – 15 pattern rifle that was carried clipped to his chest in a manner that allowed him to let it hang so he could use both of his hands. His right hand rested on the butt of a pistol on his hip. He had the air of someone who was calm, but alert.
I slowly moved down the steep slope to the bottom of the ravine and joined the assembled group. This was a tense moment, so I made every move slow and deliberate. I had dropped off my rifle and my pack up by the tree. I could see now why they used this as an ambush position. The unknown force before me could move at a low crouch and not be seen from where I had been moving through the forest. I should have checked it out, but I had been distracted by the hog tracks I had been following. Leading with my stomach had led to my inattention. My downfall was bacon. Time to focus and put on a show. The next few minutes would decide how this encounter would end up. I cleared my throat and looked at everyone there before starting.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as I said earlier, my name is David Metcalf, and I really do not want to hurt anyone. As you can tell by my condition, I’m just hungry and thirsty. My team should be here in just a minute. I’ll stand here between our two groups. They are a little skittish after all we have been through, so please just remain calm and don’t make any sudden movements.” I looked at their apparent leader, “Do you mind setting up some security while we talk?”
I really hope my group can keep it together. So far they had disobeyed my orders to run at the first sign of trouble. Part of my plan had always been to try to keep them from harm, and by taking point every time we moved, I was guaranteed to meet trouble first. If these people proved to be a threat, I would take out as many as possible. I may not have my rifle, but up close I was just as deadly with my blade. I had used it so often lately, that my pistol was mainly unused. I watched everyone carefully and waited.
As my little team of four cautiously came into view, I could hear a sharp intake of breath and someone quietly muttered, “What the hell happened to them?” I looked to their leader, and saw his eyes widen.
“I know. The first thing I always notice about them is their eyes,” I answered their unspoken question.
My team of hardened killers were just children.
********************
Want to read more? Look for Walking in the Rain: Firestorm coming soon.
Table of Contents
Other Books by William Allen in this Series:
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
EPILOGUE
AFTERWARD
Table of Contents
Other Books by William Allen in this Series:
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
&nb
sp; CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
EPILOGUE
AFTERWARD
Walking in the Rain (Book 4): Dark Sky Thunder Page 24