by Knights, BJ
The car behind Jim started to lay on the horn. Jim glanced in his rearview mirror and put his hands up in exasperation, “Where does this asshole want me to go?” Jim glanced back up at the group of soldiers ahead again. They were three cars up.
Jim’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. He knew that if they searched the car they would get detained for the possession of fire arms. They’d be looking for any excuse to pull someone over. The soldiers were now two cars ahead of them.
“If they ask you if we’re armed tell them no,” Jim spoke. It broke the silence and as Coyle nodded he asked, “You think the old lady told the police about us?”
“Maybe,” Jim said and as he put the truck into park he added. “They’re probably viewing anyone with firearms as a threat and keeping them in detainment at the base and I want to make sure we stay out of any military installations for a while.”
Coyle looked at him with a smug look of surprise. “Why? You act like you’ve had some bad experiences on military bases before.”
The car behind them laid on his horn again for a solid five seconds. Coyle slid the back window of the truck open and mustered the most powerful middle finger he could into the air. The soldiers were at the car ahead of them.
As the soldiers scanned the Cadillac in front of them Jim noticed Coyle’s bloody jumpsuit on the passenger floor board. Jim elbowed Coyle in the ribs. “Hide that.” Coyle fumbled with the jumpsuit in his hands as he stuffed it further under the seat as the first soldier approached the hood of Jim’s truck.
Jim rolled down the window as the soldier approached and addressed him a firm, cordial manner. “Good evening, Sir. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you boys coming from San Diego?”
“Yes, we are.”
There was another soldier on the other side of the vehicle staring at Coyle who left his window up. The other two were shining the lights at the ends of their rifles into the truck bed. The only thing back there was the food.
The soldier shined his light behind Jim’s seat and saw the long duffle bag along with his backpack. “Do you have any weapons on you, sir?”
“No, Sir.”
“It looks like you’ve got a rifle bag in there.”
“We’re on our way to Phoenix to visit my sister and stay there ‘till this thing gets sorted out. Why is the road blocked?”
The soldier pulled his radio up. “We’ll need the canine unit out here.” The guy behind them laid on the horn again with a few short bursts. He leaned out his driver window. “Hey, what’s the hold up?” he asked.
The lead soldier motioned to his partner. “Take care of that will you?” He nodded and walked over the car. “Sir, I’m gonna need you to calm down and remain in your vehicle.”
The man was getting upset. “We’re trying to get through here, what’s going on?” The soldier kept his rifle in his hands and again told him to remain calm and stay in his vehicle. The man finally pulled himself back through the window inside the car.
Jim saw the canine unit heading towards him about ten cars ahead of them. Coyle had beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. Tigs rustled in her cage as the dogs got closer.
The dogs passed the green Mazda ahead of them and they stopped abruptly and started barking at the car. The soldier handling him had to pull him back. The dog kept running towards the trunk. The lead soldier around Jim’s truck moved forward towards the canine unit.
A soldier had his rifle pointed at the driver of the Mazda and the man had his hands up in the air. The Mazda was surrounded now with the soldiers pointing their rifles at the car and the dog was going insane. Jim could here shouts of, “What’s in the trunk? What’s in the trunk?”
The man in the driver seat kept screaming, “I don’t know! I don’t know! I haven’t done anything.”
Jim glanced in the rearview mirror and saw some cars trying to turn around, but with all of them being funneled into one lane there was too much congestion for them to move anywhere.
The soldiers pulled the man out of the car and slammed him on the ground. They cuffed his arms behind his hands as his face dug into the pavement. One of the soldiers slowly approached the back of the truck. He kept his rifle up. He motioned for the soldier over by the driver door to pop the hatch.
A click sounded as the car’s trunk lock popped open. The soldier leaned out his gloved hand just above the California license plate and slowly lifted it up. There were four packs of C-4 explosives lining the insides of the trunk.
The soldier took off at a sprint waving his arms for everyone to get back. A few of the people in their cars got out and ran, while others threw their cars in reverse. The Cadillac in front of Jim peeled out backwards and slammed right into the truck grill. The hood folded upwards and buckled as the head lights smashed into pieces.
The airbags went off and Tigs cage rolled onto the floor board. Jim’s head flew back onto the headrest and Coyle arm flew back and hit the rear window with a loud crack when it made contact. Jim rolled his head on his neck trying to get his bearings. Coyle was holding his forearm and moaning out in pain.
A woman jumped out of her car and ran screaming past them into the chaos of the traffic behind them. A van attempted to back up as the woman was running by and she got slammed by the back corner and hit the ground hard. Other horns from cars were honking as everyone was desperately trying to get away from the shouts of, “BOMB! BOMB! BOMB!”
Jim glanced over to the median which had a wall four feet high. Getting over that thing was their best chance. Jim unbuckled his seatbelt and did the same for Coyle who was still clutching his left arm. “Grab what you can and follow me,” Jim grabbed Tigs cage, the duffle bag, and his pack and flew out the door with the truck still running. The shouts from the soldiers trying to organize the chaos ended with gunfire being sprayed into the air.
The commanding officer rushed out of the security post and headed over to the barricade. “Sergeant, what do we have?” he said. The young sergeant had a clean, tanned face and piercing blue eyes that were watered with fear, but his voice masked what he was feeling, “Sir, we have a car bomb in the line. We’re evacuating the surrounding area, but it’s chaos out there.”
One of the soldiers was examining the contents of the trunk looking for the trigger. He was in his bomb gear and his hands finally stumbled upon a small black box with wires running into it. He flipped the box over and there read a timer with five seconds left, quickly ticking away.
In the time it took for him to realize what was going to happen the bomb went off sending the soldier flying backwards. Shrapnel, fire, and smoke covered everything in a fifty foot radius as Jim and Coyle dashed over the top of the concrete barriers and ducked their heads under their arms in their laps.
Jim glanced up over the edge of the barrier after the blast and saw a crater the size of the sedan in the middle of the road. He looked over at his truck, which was flipped upside down on the pavement.
When they approached the front of the barricade there was fire, smoke, and debris littered on the interstate. Most of the people that had survived and abandoned their vehicles were corralled into the security station in the middle of the grass median. Soot and fear smeared all of their faces as they huddled in blankets and sipped coffee and water. A solider came up and handed the two of them water and Jim chugged half of it and used the rest to wipe the sweat and dirt off of his face and hands.
Coyle kept wincing at his arm. Jim pulled Coyle with him and asked a soldier where the first aid tent was. When they arrived he flagged down one of the nurses. “Excuse me can you take a look at my friend?” The nurse nodded and had Coyle sit on one of the cots as she examined his arm.
The nurse had wavy red hair with a porcelain doll complexion. Coyle thought he’d take the opportunity to let her know about his heroics earlier in the day, “Yeah, I was at the base when it happened. Sure it was frightening, but when you have nerves of steel it doesn’t rea
lly faze you that much. I saved like four people you know. I’m gonna get a medal for it.”
The nurse nodded politely, but Coyle didn’t see her roll her eyes as she turned to help another patient. He slapped Jim on the arm. “I think she likes me,” he said with a satisfied grin. Jim egged him on a bit, “No, she just thinks you have head trauma.”
“Ha. Ha.”
Coyle ended up just having a sprain and was getting wrapped up when a soldier with two MP escorts walked into the tent. The soldier motioned over to Jim and Coyle. “Is this them?” She nodded and then said, “Come with me.” Coyle started up saying that he was only joking about saving those lives and the medal was a figure of speech, but the two of them were rushed out by two MP escorts and into the CO’s quarters.
There was a giant map of the Southwest region of squares and circles dotted along southern California and Arizona. The CO motioned for them to sit and he introduced himself. “My name is Captain Jay Haggard with the El Centro Naval Aviation Base and the commanding officer of this operation. I understand you two were at the San Diego Naval Base when the attacks happened?”
“Yes, Captain, we were,” Jim replied as he slowly turned his head to Coyle. Coyle looked straight ahead in attempt to avoid the stare. Captain Haggard paced back and forth, walking around the map. He approached his desk and leaned back against it with Jim and Coyle right in front of him. “If you two have anything you’d like to share with me I’d be very appreciative.”
Coyle looked at Jim, then to Haggard, then back to Jim, then back to Haggard. If no one spoke soon, he felt like his head was going to start spinning like the girl from The Exorcist. But then Jim finally spoke up. “Captain, we know just as much as you do. The base was attacked and then we heard about the blasts in New York, D.C., Los Angeles, and we got out of there.”
“You know one of my lieutenants recognized you when you walked in the medical unit, and when your friend here was blabbing about his heroics to our nurse I thought it might be you.”
Coyle stepped in-between Jim and Captain Haggard and raised his index finger. “And you wouldn’t happen to know if she said anything about me would you?” The two of them glanced back over to Coyle at the same time. Coyle let the awkward pause linger before he said, “I can find out later.”
Haggard attempted to egg him on. “With your intelligence background and the close relationship I’m told you have with Captain Streak I’m surprised you don’t have your own theory.”
Jim leaned forward in his chair and spoke calmly. “It was well planned. With the multiple attacks across the country whoever did this had been getting ready for a very long time. The group that did this knew exactly what to do and how to do it. But that’s not what scares me the most.”
Haggard raised his eyebrows. “And what does scare you the most?” Jim paused as he looked straight into the Haggard’s eyes and said, “That whoever did this seriously believes that they can win?”
Haggard laughed. “We’ll find out whoever did this within the week.” Jim gave him a nasty look. “Oh, good. I’m glad they’ll be able to figure out everything after the attacks.”
Captain Haggard rested his hands on the table and leaned in to meet Jim’s gaze. Coyle sat frozen in his seat. Haggard motioned for an MP at the door. “You can escort these two back to the base, and be sure to confiscate any weapons they have on them.”
The young, brash MP grabbed Jim by the arm. Jim twisted out of it and walked out on his own steam. Coyle hung back a minute and Haggard almost forgot he was there until he spoke up. “He’s had a long day,” Coyle said. Haggard gave a penetrating look that sent Coyle out of his chair and to the exit of the tent in a flash.
Jim, Coyle, Tigs, and the rest of the survivors of the road blast were all packed up and sent to the base for safety precautions. They were told they would be able to rest and regroup there. Jim had to give up his pistols, shotgun, rifle, and ammunition from the duffle bag upon arrival. Coyle’s stomach started to rumble and the two decided the first order of business was to find the mess hall.
Jim grabbed a plate as Coyle shuffled in behind him cutting a man who was trying to get in line. “Hey, back of the line, pal.” Coyle whipped around and flashed his bandaged arm and with a snarky tone said, “Medical case. I get first priority. Let me know when you save somebody’s life though and I’ll be sure you get in the front of the line.”
Coyle picked up a plate and turned to see Jim’s back. He pulled on his shoulder, but Jim wouldn’t budge. Coyle jumped around in front of him and repeated himself. “Are you trying to get us shot? Because based off of your track record it’s starting to become a trend.”
Jim stared ahead of him and didn’t look Coyle in the eye. He finally broke his icy stand off and spoke. “I didn’t have the best track record when I was in the Navy. ‘Intelligent, but reckless’ I think is what my file said. The only thing I was reckless about was telling the truth.”
Coyle shook his head, “I never pictured you as the type with authority problems. That’s supposed to be my thing. You’re stealing my thunder, Jim.” His comments forced a small smile as they reached the first silver tray of food.
A surly woman in a hairnet slopped a scoop of meat onto Jim’s plate, which splashed bits of brown drips onto his shirt. Jim looked down at his shirt and then at the lady who showed no sign of remorse. He moved onto the next server who was giving out veggies.
The spread wasn’t that bad. The mystery meat turned out to be meatloaf, and with sides of mash potatoes, green beans, and bread rolls Jim realized just how long it had been since he actually ate something. He ate through the entire plate and got up for seconds. When he got back with his second helping Coyle was just finishing up his first. Jim scooped up a little bit of the meatloaf and folded it in a napkin to give to Tigs back at their tent that was being set up.
After the second helping Jim’s eyes grew heavy and the two of them looked for where they’d be staying for the night. The military had set up some temporary relief tents usually reserved for natural disasters. The tents had eight rows of four cots, each with a blanket and pillow.
They were under a “lights out” 9:30 P.M. curfew, and for the first time since he’d been here Jim didn’t object to the military’s rules. He was exhausted. He sunk into the bed and wasn’t sure if he would ever get up. With Tigs tucked under him in her cage chewing on the meatloaf, and Coyle snoring in the cot beside him, Jim drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Jim awoke with the rising sun and the nudges from the soldiers corralling everyone out of their bunks. Coyle was particularly displeased with the abrupt awakening and made sure to give a middle finger to the back of the solider who woke him once he turned away.
Jim picked up Tigs’ cage and let her out by a patch of sand to do what cats do. The orange sun was halfway above the desert horizon, and Jim glanced down at his watch to check the time. It was frozen at 1:21 P.M., which was the time of the blasts at the base yesterday. Jim tapped on the glass face, but the hands stood still.
Tigs jumped around a bit, happy to be out of her cage and started circling Jim’s legs. He picked her up and scratched her chin as she purred. Coyle finally came out of the tent with his hair a complete mess, still upset about the early rising. “You think that they’d want everyone well rested.”
“You slept for almost ten hours,” Jim said.
“Yeah, almost,” Coyle retorted as he stretched and gave Tigs a few pets. Jim looked at all of the people emerging from the tents in groups, pairs, or by themselves heading over to the breakfast tent. A line was beginning to form and Jim suggested that they get over there before it got too long. Before Coyle could object and go back to bed his stomach rumbled and agreed that breakfast was a good idea.
Eggs and hash browns filled their plates and both Jim and Coyle were glad to see that the surely woman from last night wasn’t on the line. Jim appreciated that the woman there this morning seemed to understand that getting the food on his plate, and not his shirt,
was the best practice of serving.
Jim and Coyle sat across from each other. Jim squeezed in between a young couple and a man with two children, while Coyle sandwiched in between two extremely plump gentlemen who smelled like musty cheese. The young couple next to Jim started to argue as he downed his food.
“I just don’t understand why we can’t just go back to our cars and leave,” the girl whined. “I mean it’s not like those terrorists wanted our Camry, right?” The man let out a long breath. “The car might not even be working, babe, and the soldier we spoke to said that he wasn’t sure when we’d be able to leave, so we might as well just make the best of it.”