by Bruno Miller
“It looks good to me. Over,” Joel said over the radio.
“It’ll have to do. Find the tanks and let’s get this done.” Ben watched the Jeep veer off to the corner of the lot and stop. Everyone else pulled in next to the Scrambler and parked close together. Ben was the last one stopped but almost the first one out of the truck. He didn’t waste any time and started breaking out the hose and pump. “Grab those jerry cans. We might as well fill those too.”
Martin had just hopped down from the truck and was mid-stretch. “What about that sign, huh? What do you make of it?”
“It’s just a scare tactic to keep people away. I’m not worried about it too much, but I also don’t want to linger here any longer than necessary. No reason to push our luck.” Ben spoke without looking away from the pump.
“I agree.” Martin started untying the jerry cans from the Blazer.
“Hey, Joel, make sure it’s not a diesel tank,” Ben called out to his son, who was inspecting the fill valves sticking out of the blacktop.
“They’re not marked. I’m not sure.” Joel stood over the row of metal lids.
“Get one open and we’ll find out.” Ben ran over to his son with a length of hose ready to push into the tank. Joel pulled one of the caps off and stepped aside while his dad ran the hose down the tube and brought it back out after it touched the bottom. He took a few long strides away from the tanks and dumped some of the freshly extracted fuel onto the ground. “I need a lighter.”
Ben barely had the words out when Sandy tossed him one from the truck. He held the flame to the small puddle of liquid and waited. Nothing.
He looked at Joel. “No good. Try another.”
Joel had another cap off in a matter of seconds, and Ben plunged the hose into the ground once again. He knew they’d found gasoline this time around even before lighting the puddle on fire, based on how quickly it was evaporating off the hot asphalt.
“Good to go. Let’s start filling the tanks.” Ben gave the order, and Joel and Martin sprang into action. They moved as fast as they could and didn’t stop until every vehicle and jerry can was topped off. They would have normally taken a few breaks in this type of heat, but that was a luxury they could not afford right now. Martin redeemed himself a little in Ben’s eyes by hustling through the job without complaint. Martin was a big help, and his and Joel’s efforts allowed Ben to keep half an eye out for any unwanted visitors.
The lack of air moving through the Blazer had woken Emma from her nap, and before Ben realized what was happening, Sam and Bajer were running around the parking lot. Gunner, determined not to be left out, leaped from the back of the Jeep and ran to catch up with them.
“Gunner, no,” Brad yelled, but it was too late. Gunner ignored the command and disappeared behind the side of the half-destroyed building with the other dogs.
“Gunner, come here,” Ben called after the dog this time, but Gunner did not return.
“You guys finish up. I’ll go get them.” Ben started for the building.
“Want me to help?” Allie offered.
“No, that’s okay. I’d rather you stay here and watch the road. Thanks, though.” Ben made his way to the burned-out structure as fast as his knee would allow and found the dogs sniffing around a dumpster at the backside of the building.
“Come on, guys. Let’s go.” Ben fussed at all three of them, but they paid him no mind. He thought about the raccoon chase Gunner led them on a while ago. He really needed to get them away from the dumpster before this took a turn for the worse. They didn’t have time to waste. He was about to turn and walk away in an effort to motivate the dogs but stopped. There, on the wall in front of him, the letters PH were scratched onto the concrete. Ben didn’t need any more reasons to leave, but this was a good one.
“Hey…come on… Let’s go—now!” It wasn’t until he raised his voice that the dogs acknowledged his presence. Bajer was the first to abandon the scent trail, followed by Gunner, who recognized Ben’s tone and knew better than to ignore it. Sam was reluctant to give in so easily, though, and it took a light swat on the rump to get her moving back toward the truck. Ben rolled his eyes. He still found it hard to believe that they had ended up with three large dogs to care for.
“Come on, guys. This isn’t the place for exploring. We’ll make it up to you later.” Ben spoke to the dogs as if they understood what he was saying. He felt bad for them. They had been couped up in the trucks for the last couple of hours along with everyone else. He wished they all could have taken a short breather here, but it wasn’t worth the risk.
When Ben returned with the dogs, Joel and Martin had the jerry cans tied down and were ready to get underway.
“Come on, boy.” Brad stuck his arm over the side of the Jeep and smacked his hand on the sheet metal. This time, Gunner listened. Emma was waiting by the Blazer and coaxed Sam and Bajer back into the truck, then climbed in herself. They were ready to go, and Ben was amazed to see that less than half an hour had passed since they pulled off the interstate. That was a record for sure, but not one he wanted to try and repeat at this time of day again. They were all soaked with sweat. The remainder of the drive today would be uncomfortable at best.
“You hear that?” Allie stood up on the doorsill of the Jeep with her hand to her ear.
Ben stopped in his tracks and listened. He didn’t hear anything at first, but slowly, the rumble of distant exhaust pipes grew louder. He couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from. The interstate was clear in both directions, but one thing was certain: it was headed their way.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Move the trucks around back. Quick.” Ben jumped into the Blazer and fired it up. He threw the truck into gear and started pulling out before Sandy could get her door closed all the way. Joel and Martin were quick to get the Jeep and Scout rolling, but Rita seemed to be moving in slow motion.
There wasn’t much left of the old truck stop, but the rear wall of the building was still intact. Whether it was big enough to hide all four vehicles from the road remained to be seen, but it was better than sitting out here in the open. Ben stopped the truck abruptly once they were hidden and jumped out, directing the others to pull in next to the Blazer as close as they could.
Rita was last in line and had barely made it around the corner when a bright red Chevy with two flags mounted to the back bumper appeared on the secondary road that ran past the truck stop. The big red pickup had come from around the blind corner Ben had concerns about when they first arrived. Good thing Allie heard the truck approaching. The jacked-up Chevy’s straight pipes had given it away and afforded them an opportunity to hide.
Ben and the others gathered at the corner of the building and watched the truck slow down before coming to a stop at the intersection of the east- and westbound exits for the interstate. No one said a word while they waited for the truck to move on.
“Do you think they saw us?” Allie asked.
“I don’t think so. Just sit tight for a minute and let’s see what they do.” Ben hoped he was right. It was hard to say if the truck had spotted the Toyota or not, but he didn’t think so. If they’d been seen, the Chevy would have pulled into the gas station for sure.
“There they go,” Sandy said.
“That figures. They had to go west, didn’t they?” Martin sighed loudly. Ben was glad to see the truck move on, but he would have felt a whole lot better if they’d gone the other direction. He watched as the Chevy accelerated up the ramp toward the freeway and saw something that gave him chills. The two flags being flown from the rear bumper straightened in the wind and unfurled, revealing the same skull and crossbones they’d seen painted on the sign a few miles back. The other was filled with bright red letters that read, PATRIOT HOOLIGANS.
“PH. That makes sense,” Allie said quietly.
“You noticed that, too, huh?” Ben stepped back from the corner of the building.
“I guess they are still around here,” Sandy said.
“Yep. And I’m willing to bet there’s a lot more than just the one truck around here.” Ben wasn’t sure what they should do. At the very least, they needed to give the Chevy a few minutes to move down the interstate.
“Are we still going to go that way?” Joel peeked around the corner again.
“We still need to head west, and I’m not sure the back roads would be any safer. Not to mention, it’ll take twice as long to get anywhere.” Ben wasn’t sure what the answer was here, but he wasn’t going to let this interfere with their plans to make camp before dark.
“So what do we do about the truck?” Martin asked.
“Nothing, if we play our cards right. Let’s give it a few minutes and then be on our way.” Ben didn’t know what the Patriot Hooligans were all about, and he really didn’t care. He’d be happy if they never saw the red Chevy again. But sitting here all afternoon and trying to decide what to do wouldn’t help their cause any. If they wanted to put the Patriot Hooligans’ territory behind them quickly, the interstate was their best bet. He had no idea what the PH considered their territory, or where the boundaries were, but he was willing to bet that if he and the others could put in a good hour behind the wheel, they’d be out of trouble. How big could a local gang of extremists be? Another question he was reluctant to guess the answer to.
They waited behind the remains of the gas station for close to fifteen minutes before Ben’s impatience got the best of him. In his opinion, there was a point where waiting around any longer was asking for just as much trouble as following the Chevy too closely. For all they knew, another truck could cruise by at any second. It was time to get back on the road.
He wanted to keep the vehicles in the same sequence, Joel up front and him in the rear. But he did ask everyone to do their best and tighten up the gap between vehicles. If Joel ran into trouble, Ben didn’t want to find himself a couple of hundred yards back from the front of the convoy. With the way Rita had been falling back and then catching up, only to drift back again, it was a real concern. More than a few times today on the interstate, he’d found himself much farther away from the Jeep than he was comfortable with.
Ben struggled with the idea of asking Allie to drive the Toyota for the rest of the day. But the advantages of having Allie behind the wheel were too attractive to ignore, speed being the biggest one, especially right now, when moving through this area as fast as possible was their best bet to avoid this gang.
Ben discussed it with Sandy first. After all, it was her daughter who would be riding with a stranger. Ben figured Allie could drive the Toyota and Rita would ride passenger. Carlos could ride in the Jeep with Joel and Brad. That put his boys with a stranger as well, but Carlos was pretty harmless in his weakened condition. Besides, Joel had Brad and Gunner as backup. He was sure his concerns were needless to begin with, though. The couple had been nothing but nice and cooperative, and they had nothing to gain by not going along with the current plan.
Sandy was receptive to the idea and surprised Ben by taking the reins and working out the details with her daughter and Rita. Joel looked less than pleased with the arrangement, but Rita looked overjoyed to be relieved of the responsibility.
Once they were back on the interstate, the difference that changing drivers had made was apparent immediately. Ben found himself constantly checking the speedometer to make sure the reading wasn’t a figment of his imagination. For the first time on their trip, he was routinely seeing the needle push past sixty miles per hour. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but if they could maintain this pace, they’d reach Little Yankee Run ahead of schedule. Again he wondered if they should push farther but decided that sticking with the plan was best.
Ben half expected to see the big red Chevy every time they passed an exit or came around a curve in the road, but they never did. In fact, they didn’t see anyone for the rest of the afternoon, and that was fine with him. They did spot a few more signs and overpasses tagged with the Patriot Hooligans’ mark, but that was the worst of it.
The biggest issue they had to deal with was making sure the Scout had enough gas to reach their destination. Ben wanted all the vehicles to have not just enough gas to make it there but also enough to give them a cushion when they broke camp in the morning. If trouble came their way in the middle of the night or early in the morning, they needed to be able to bug out and go far if the situation warranted it. Going to bed with less than half a tank in the truck would be asking for trouble and, at the least, force them to stop early the next day.
Using the map to estimate how much farther they had to go, Ben signaled the others to pull over briefly when they were about half an hour away from what he thought was the Little Yankee Run area. He wanted to check in with everyone and get an idea of where they all stood in terms of needing fuel. They’d been running hard for over three hours now, and as Ben slid out of the Blazer and approached Martin, he tried to mentally prepare for the bad news. He’d been hanging onto the idea that they might reach tonight’s campsite without having to stop for gas again.
Martin greeted him with a smile, his left arm hanging out the Scout’s window. “Man, we’re making good time today, huh?”
Ben nodded. “That we are. I almost hate to ask how you’re doing on gas.”
Martin checked the gauge. “Not too bad, actually. I got half a tank still.”
Ben didn’t believe him and leaned in to see for himself. “Wow, I expected you to be down below a quarter tank by now. I hope the gauge is working.”
“It’s been steady. I’m mean, it’s not jumping around or anything.” Martin shrugged.
“All right, let me check with the others, then. I’ll let you know the plan on my way back by.” Ben smacked the side of the truck lightly with the road atlas as he walked away. That was much better news than he’d anticipated.
“Hey, guys. How’re you doing on gas?” Ben stopped outside the driver’s side window of the Toyota to talk to Allie.
“Oh, we’re good. We’re not fast, but we’re good.” Allie glanced at Rita and smiled. “We’re just under three-quarters.”
“Are you kidding me? We’re making great time this afternoon. I think we’re maybe fifteen minutes or so from the creek. You’re doing great, Allie.”
“Thanks. So are we stopping for gas or can we make it?”
“I think we’re gonna push through and wait to get gas tomorrow. I’ll let you know for sure in a sec.” Ben continued on up the line of vehicles at a quickened pace, energized by the thought of being able to finish the day’s driving sooner than he expected. He knew Joel had enough gas to skip a stop, but he wanted him to have the map since he’d be leading the group to the campsite. His son was leaning out of his window when he arrived at the Jeep.
“Here you go.” Ben handed him the road atlas. “Lead us to camp. You’re doing a good job, by the way.” He reached into the back of the Jeep and messed up Brad’s hair before starting for the Blazer.
“Nobody needs to stop?” Joel asked.
“Nope, we’re good to go.” Ben was well on his way but heard an excited “yes” from both of the boys.
“Follow Joel.” Ben smiled as he passed Rita and Allie. If the creek panned out and they found a decent place to set up camp, this could be a good night. He was looking forward to sleeping in the woods.
“I’ll see you at camp,” Ben said as he passed the Scout.
“You got it,” Martin answered.
Once back in the Blazer, he informed the girls that they were heading straight to the creek, no stops. Ben expected Emma to be more excited about not having to be cooped up inside the truck for much longer, but she seemed indifferent.
“I hope you can sleep tonight.” Ben was worried that she’d napped too much today and would be up all night.
She sighed. “I’m fine.”
Not that it mattered. She wasn’t driving, just entertaining the dogs. But he was worried about her nonetheless. Off and on today, she hadn’t been feeling well, and she’d
also been acting a bit distant, even for a sometimes self-absorbed preteen. He’d make sure to spend some time with her later, one on one. She might not tell him if something were bothering her in front of Sandy.
“It’ll be nice to get out of the truck and stay put for a while.” Sandy leaned into the breeze coming through her window.
“I’ll be happy if the creek has clean water.” Ben knew they were still a little ways from kicking their feet up by any means. The creek might turn out to be a bust. They could have more driving ahead of them, but he’d keep that thought to himself until they reached Little Yankee Run and saw the place for themselves.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It only took another ten minutes of driving before the Scout’s brake lights began to glow and the truck merged right. Ben saw the Jeep up ahead as it led the pack off the interstate and down a grass-covered embankment.
“This is it. I’m gonna make a trail down to the creek and then follow a dirt road I see. It looks like it runs upstream a ways. Over,” Joel announced over the radio.
“Sounds good. We’ll be right behind you after we cover the trail. Over.” Ben wanted to make sure the tire tracks through the tall grass weren’t obvious to any passing traffic, like he and Joel had done before. It took a little more effort this time to camouflage their trail, especially with four vehicles running over the same spot and matting down the weeds. But Sandy helped him, and after a few minutes, they had the grass propped back up and managed to find a couple of dead branches to mix in.
Sandy stood back and looked from the shoulder. “Looks pretty good. You’d never know four trucks went this way.”
“Good. That’s the idea.” Ben joined her briefly and inspected their work for himself before noticing how far they’d fallen behind the rest of the group. The other trucks had reached the bottom of the ravine and were traveling upstream along the dirt road. He watched the taillights disappear one by one into the woods as they drove. Ben heard the radio sound off from inside the Blazer.