“Oh,” Wendy said, reaching down and pulling the magazines she had used and passed them back to Jo Ann. “Reload those and hand me some more.”
Reaching over the backseat, Jo Ann grabbed three loaded magazines and handed them to Wendy and then started reloading the ones Wendy had handed her. Loading magazines for the girls was tough and still a work in progress.
When Wendy reached the outskirts of Natchez, she didn’t slow down from forty-five and the tires squealed as she drove the Tahoe around the few abandoned cars on the highway. Turning onto the highway that led to the bridge, Sally called out people and Wendy saw a small group near a store.
They all just turned and watched the Tahoe speeding down the road.
“Two people on the right,” Jo Ann called out and Wendy turned to see a woman holding a rifle in one hand and a small child’s hand in the other as they walked toward a group of houses.
“I see them,” Wendy said, turning ahead. Seeing the bridge ahead, Wendy slowed as Sally turned forward with the binoculars. A sea of cars were parked on each side of the road and out into the grass, forming a funnel to the bridge.
“I don’t see anyone moving,” Sally said and Wendy reached over and Sally gave her the binoculars.
With the Tahoe slowly rolling forward, Wendy saw the sandbags in the outside lane with a HUMVEE parked and road barriers blocking the inside lane. The checkpoint sat under a railroad bridge that crossed over the highway. Turning, Wendy focused the binoculars on several tents that were set up in the median.
Handing the binoculars back, Wendy gripped the Glock from the center console. “Girls, stay low because we may have to shoot our way across.”
“Those are army guys!” Sally cried out. “They are good guys.”
“Baby, anyone that doesn’t let us get home, are bad guys,” Wendy told her in a hard tone. “We can’t trust cops, army, or anyone, except us.”
Sally leaned back in the seat and nodded, but Wendy never took her eyes off the checkpoint. Getting closer, Wendy rolled down her window to look for any movement and then looked at the sawhorse barricades and stopped right in front of them. She could see stop sticks placed on the ground under the barricades.
Looking around, Wendy cracked her door, “Don’t get out, just run them over!” Sally cried out, grabbing her arm.
“See those things under the barriers? Those will give us flats if I run over them,” Wendy said, opening her door. “Keep watch,” she whispered back, stepping out.
Moving the Glock to her left hand, Wendy trotted up to the first barrier and moved it to the side, then pulled the stop sticks back. When she moved to the other barrier, Wendy stopped at seeing a soldier behind the sandbags with a bullet hole right between his eyes.
Looking past the soldier, Wendy saw two more with headshots and could tell they’d come from a rifle. “I have an idea who did that,” she mumbled, pulling the barrier to the side. Wendy stopped and turned back to the soldiers. Seeing a black tube mounted to the helmet and flipped up, Wendy ran over behind the sandbags and took the helmet off the soldier.
Standing up, she saw the same on the others and took the helmets. Then she saw a bolt action sniper rifle with a tube attached in front of a massive scope. Knowing what that was, Wendy flipped the lever holding it on the rail system and pulled it off.
She ran back and just tossed the stuff inside and ran back behind the sandbags. Looking in the Hummer, Wendy saw a soldier behind the steering wheel with blood over his face and knew he’d died from flu. Stepping closer, Wendy saw a box in the soldier’s lap that had binocular eyepieces at one end and a single lens at the other. Knowing it was something to observe with, Wendy grabbed it and yanked the helmet off the soldier.
Moving to the backseat, Wendy gave a sigh to see two boxes of MREs. Putting the stuff that she had on the boxes, Wendy carried the stuff back to the Tahoe. “Open your door, Jo Ann,” Wendy called out and the back door opened and Wendy tossed the stuff in as Jo Ann got out of the way.
Shutting the door, Wendy jumped in and slammed the shifter in drive before hitting the gas. “Are you crazy?” Sally gasped. “They are army and bad guys and you took their stuff!”
“They were dead and didn’t need it,” Wendy said as the Tahoe picked up speed. “See if you see anything on the other bridge.”
Picking up the binoculars Sally looked ahead, but they were almost over the bridge before she could see the other checkpoint. “Just an area like the one we just passed through. I don’t see anyone moving,” Sally told her.
“Get down,” Wendy said, pushing the pedal hard and the engine roared. Like on the other side, there was a sea of cars pulled off the road on the eastbound side, but the lanes were clear. Speeding down westbound lanes, Wendy was thankful the road was cleared and then saw a crossroad ahead before a small town.
A field off to the side had a pile of bodies with a HUMVEE parked nearby and a gun mounted on the roof. Glancing down at the speedometer, Wendy saw she was passing sixty and let the needle climb. They saw nobody in the small town of Vidalia that sat at the foot of the bridge.
Fifteen miles down the road, Wendy slowed and they saw their first person in Louisiana, loading stuff in the back of a truck at a small store. The figure stopped and grabbed a rifle from the bed and then put it back, seeing
