by David Nadas
a gun battle here. Hopefully they’ll just leave."
"You're not worried about them coming back?" Dan stated. "They already killed at least one person; the houses around here will be easy picking for them. Trust me, I hunt with these types all the time."
Matt was taking that in. These were not ordinary times. "What's your plan?"
"I think we can ambush them by the road. We can take out the truck. We don't need to kill anyone but we can take their guns and show them we mean business. They won't fuck with us after they see our gear."
"We have to be crazy, but I get it,” Matt said, blowing out a quick breath from behind his mask.
"Follow me." Dan said, as he moved out in front of Matt. They ducked behind the string of cottages and made their way to the road.
"I'll stay here behind this oak,” Dan said, laying out his plan. "You cross over and up the other side to that outcropping. That will give us both good coverage and you a better vantage point. As soon as you hear me plug the grill of the truck, take out the right side tires, and then level your sites on the windshield. I'll talk them out. If you see them trying to get out too quickly, rake the backside of the truck. Ok?" Dan was looking at his best friend, whose eyes were wide open. "It'll be okay, they’ll be feeling a bit cocky after a kill and won’t expect anything. Trust me. They'll shit in their pants at the site of us." And he huffed. "They might even think we're the aliens in these suits," Dan said, patting Matt on his shoulder and sending him on his way.
Dan stayed low and could see the pickup making the bend through the trees. He stood up with his back against the trunk of the oak, his Moss ready in his hands with the safety off. He listened to the driver's nervous foot on the gas as it got closer and closer, then stepped out and braced himself sideways to reduce his exposure, leveling the Moss to the grill and firing. The recoil of the solid slug was hefty, much greater than he anticipated. The slug slammed into the grill and sounded like a wrench being thrown into a turbine, grinding the engine to a halt. Dan kept the Moss leveled at the tinted windshield and began to move forward when the burst of Matt's automatic erupted, the first burst falling short and kicking up snow. The second longer burst shredded the front right tire and raked along the truck's chrome running board, sparks flying, the tracers guiding Matt to the rear right tire and the truck listing abruptly on its side. In the dead silence of the aftermath, Dan flipped his mask onto his head and shouted.
"Out of the fucking truck! Now! I want to see your hands in the air! Any guns and we light the fucking world on fire, you fucks! Out of the truck, now!"
It was quiet, except for the pulsing sound of blood rushing into their ears.
The passenger side door fell open.
"Don't shoot! I'm coming out!"
Dan could see a boot edging out and touch the ground, then another. It was the guy in the camo. He stepped out with his hands up. There was some arguing in the truck and the guy in the camo was nervously looking back into the cab, then back to Dan.
Dan had a bead on the guy.
"Don't shoot, man. I'm not armed." He stood outside the passenger door, as as he heard the two inside arguing.
"Put your hands behind your head and kneel down in front of the truck." The guy in camo was frozen in place.
"Do it!" shouted Dan. The guy moved cautiously in front and bent down on one knee.
"Don't kill me, man. Please."
"Both knees!" Dan shouted and leveled the Moss at him. The guy dropped onto the other knee and Dan returned his attention to the cab.
"You two in the truck. Get the fuck out now!" Dan shouted.
Matt was focused on the movement in the truck, the site of his Bushmaster centered on the windshield.
The driver's side door opened quickly and a hand holding a pistol in the air came out at the same time a rifle barrel pointed from the passenger side at Matt.
"Drop the guns! Drop the guns!" shouted Dan. The pistol was leveled at him and a shot rang out. All hell broke loose as Matt held his finger on the trigger and the windshield exploded; Dan pumping round after round into the cab, the guy on his knees diving face first into the ground as glass and shrapnel rained down. Matt let go of the trigger when he heard a dry click and looked down at the hot empty shells sinking into the snow. He snapped the magazine out, flipped it, slapped it into place then leveled the site back onto the hole that was a windshield.
There was no movement in the truck and aside from the ringing in his ears, it was dead silent. Dan had circled the driver's side, the end of his smoking barrel prying open the door. That's when Matt saw a rope of deep crimson dripping from the cab and coiling onto the white of the road. Dan let the door shut and dropped the Moss to his side. He signaled for Matt to come down.
"That didn't go so well," Matt said. They were standing apart; the guy in the camo between them, his hands behind his head and nose to the ground. He had pissed his pants. Dan tapped the barrel of his Moss on the guy's elbow.
"Come on. Get up."
"You're not going to kill me, are you? It wasn't me. I didn't kill no one. It was Stu. I told him I didn't want anything to do with it. I wasn't gonna kill no one...."
"Shut the fuck up.” Dan said, remorse in his voice. "Get up." The guy unlatched his trembling hands and slowly got to his knees then stood as the pebbles of broken glass fell from his jacket. "Start walking and don't turn around. Turn around and I'll fucking blow your head off. You tell every one of those low life fucking bottom feeder friends of yours that if they think they can come up here and murder innocent people they’ll have to deal with us!” Dan looked crazed. "Those helpless souls you killed didn’t deserve that!" There was spittle coming out of his mouth and his eyes looked wild. "You tell them this is just a trial run. We own this fucking mountain!" Dan screamed out, his Moss raised above his head. The guy took off running in baby steps, trying not to slide on the snow-covered road.
"Dan. What are we going to do about this?” Matt asked, turning toward the truck and watching the slick of blood pooling on the ground.
"Nothing. We leave it. As is. A warning."
"We can’t just leave everything like this! What if the cops come out here?"
"Then they find them."
"Dan. They can also trace our tracks back to the camp."
"They aren't coming up here, Matt. They aren't coming anywhere near here and if they do, they won't be arresting anyone. Not today, not tomorrow, not for a long time."
"I hope you're right about that." Matt remarked and started to walk down the road to the camp.
Matt didn't know what to say. "The girls and Ed have to be totally freaked out with all that shooting." He pulled out the short-range radio.
"This is Matt. We're OK and heading back. Over."
"MATT!" Laurie's voice was frantic. "What happened out there? There was so much gunfire!"
"A lot. We'll tell you when we get there. Over.”, and let go of the talk button.
"I killed someone, Dan,” Matt said.
"We both did. They had the option not to come out shooting, and they chose the wrong option."
"Why would they do that? All they had to do was leave the guns in the truck and get out.”
"You can't blame yourself, Matt. They did the math and maybe they know more than we do— that no one gets out alive and we did what they couldn't do for themselves."
They walked back in silence. It was peaceful, but eerily quiet. No birds, no deer, no raccoon tracks in the fresh snow. Maybe they know something too, Matt thought.
Arriving at the camp, Matt pressed the button on his radio.
"We're just outside and coming in." The door swung open and Ed stood with the pistol in hand, Laurie pushing past him.
"Matt." is all she could manage to say, as if the chance would never again be there for her. Behind Ed were Asha, Cindi and Jen, with Oscar squeezing out among everyone, tail wagging and a greeting filled with joy.
&nb
sp; "Oh geez," said Dan retreating behind Matt as Oscar now had his game plan and pranced around Matt toward him. "My shins can't take another beating." It was what the moment needed, a laugh to push away what had just happened. To forget about the bodies in the truck or those lost to the contagion. Looking up, the sky was cobalt blue and strung with contrails high above, oblivious to the life being extinguished beneath it.
Back inside, Matt and Dan recounted the events at The Point and explained the cache of weaponry to Laurie, who was shocked that her father had this secret. It all seemed so far removed as they stood around the kitchen island, carving off pieces of cheese and drinking coffee and tea. At any other time, their deeds would have seemed barbaric, unforgivable. But the instinct to survive trumps all, and collectively, they felt justified in their actions.
"I think we should stay put for a while." Matt said. "I'm not sure how safe anything is out on the water either, especially because there’s no cover out there."
"Dan, I never thought I would say these two things," Laurie said, "but I am so grateful for you in our lives." And leaning over, kissed him on the cheek.
"What's the second?" He asked, feeling a bit awkward.
"Laurie looked up and placed both palms on his cheeks. "That I actually let you convince me to store that venison in the garage freezer."
"Oh my God." laughed Matt. "I forgot all about that."
"What is venison?" Asha asked.
"Deer meat!" Jen shouted.
Matt always knew Dan