"Well, let’s go get that ammo," Becky said laughing, and they all walked into the shop.
They spent no more than an hour in the shop, before they had completely re-outfitted themselves. They were able to obtain new camping gear, ammunition, and three more of the nine mm machine pistols. They all reasoned they were much more effective than the old single-shot rifles, and shotguns that Delbert's group had been carrying, and the fact that they would all now be able to use the same caliber ammunition was appealing.
Joe picked up a canvas strap for the machine gun, that allowed him to keep it suspended from one shoulder, yet easily accessible to him if he needed it. The machine pistols fit easily into leather shoulder holsters, and there were more than enough in the shop for everyone. Joe debated briefly, and then took one more of the machine pistols, along with one of the leather holsters as well. He had a vague, uneasy feeling about the weapons. He felt as if he had joined some weird sort of commando outfit, instead of belonging to a group who had been nothing more than average citizens just a few short weeks before. He pushed the thought away, and after adjusting the leather shoulder holster, slid the fully loaded machine pistol into it, and fastened the small chrome push-catch across the blued steel grip of the weapon.
They loaded all of the gear into the back of the Suburban, including every round of nine mm ammunition the store had in stock, which, Joe thought, amounted to enough to wage a small war with. After consulting the map, they set out once more.
The shop had contained a great deal of pre-packaged freeze dried foods, and that had also found its way into the rear of the Suburban.
~ 2 ~
Noon found them just outside of Gothenburg, Nebraska. Route 30. Joe hoped Route 30 would by-pass most of the moderately sized city. Becky had studied the map, but couldn't tell for sure whether or not it would. One thing's for sure, Joe thought, it's certainly less traveled.
They had all noticed, and remarked on the fact that there had been no appreciable stalled traffic at all, and that had seemed good at first, until they had all begun to notice that someone had been at work either towing the cars off the roadway, or pushing them into the ditches along the side, where they still sat.
"It don't necessarily have to be bad," Delbert said from the back seat, "could be some good folks."
"Yeah," Becky agreed from the front seat, "could be. But also might not be."
They were less than a mile from the city limits when they saw the road block.
Joe bought the truck to a screeching halt, more than a half mile away at the crest of a slight rise, nearly as soon as it had come into sight. They could see better than a half dozen heavily armed men standing along the sides of two Nebraska State Police cruisers, pulled crosswise nose to nose blocking the road. The men had immediately snapped to attention when they spotted the truck, and were now staring in their direction. One of the men had quickly jumped into one of the patrol cars, and Joe assumed, after seeing him speaking into a hand held microphone, had probably radioed someone about them. Not good at all, he thought.
"Them's the same bastards we saw the other day," Delbert said, "see that red pickup off the shoulder?"
Joe nodded his head.
"They was driving that truck, I recognize it, Joe. Was only two of 'em then, so I 'spect they didn't want to mess with us. Looks like they found some like-minded company though and that ain't good at all."
Joe forced his heartbeat to slow down so he could think clearly. At first he had been positive that the men would get in the cars and come screaming down the road after them. They hadn't, and in fact seemed to be just watching the Suburban to see what they were going to do. "I'm open to suggestions," Joe said.
"First thing, Babe," Becky replied, "is to get the hell off the road. If they did radio someone they're probably on the way. I saw a dirt road that cuts off to the right about a half mile back, might be smart for us to get down it so we can think this thing out, before we're forced to fight it out right here."
"That group could kill," Delbert said, "I saw the way they was looking at us, and especially Peggy, we don't need to let them get the upper hand, and right now we're on their terms. I 'spect they would just as soon kill us... well most of us, and I hate to think what they'd do to the girls."
"This is one girl they don't want to screw with," Becky said angrily.
"How far?" Joe said as he punched the gas and squeezed the wheel of the Suburban. He bounced the truck down off the road, and the rear tires threw up rooster tails of dirt and grass, as the truck slewed around, and came back up onto the road. The tires spun momentarily dislodging the grass and mud, then found their purchase and propelled them back down the road, away from the road block. Behind them they could hear the low pop of rifle fire from the direction of the road block.
"Half mile, no more," Becky said.
They were no more than a hundred feet down the road, when a blue Bronco appeared ahead of them moving toward them. A blonde haired man leaned out the driver’s side window holding what looked to
