Barry was fairly certain that, had his bladder been full, he would have instantaneously emptied it in his trousers as soon as John pressed the suppressed tip of his H&K 416 against his temple.
“I’d stay real still for right now, my friend,” John snarled menacingly.
Barry buried his face in the grass and almost wept at the thought of his life being so utterly under someone else’s control.
John thought about shouting down to Jared but placed a hold on any loud exchanges until he was certain they were only dealing with one person. The motorcycle was a good indicator that they were dealing with one, maybe two at the most, but he wasn’t willing to take any unnecessary chances quite yet. John reached down, pulled Barry’s pistol from its holster, and tossed the weapon out of reach. Next John popped the sling attachment on Barry’s rifle and pulled the weapon off the prostrate man, tossing it next to the pistol.
“Now roll over real slow and keep your hands palms-up so I can see ’em the entire time,” John ordered as he took a step back, allowing Barry to roll onto his back.
The two men stared at each other for a second before John laughed out loud and lowered his rifle slightly. “Fucking Barry the tech guy,” John exclaimed in genuine amazement.
In the time it took John to recognize him, Barry went from being frightened to the point of peeing himself, to now being profoundly confused. How does this guy know my name? he wondered at the recent surrealistic chain of events.
Seeing the confusion on Barry’s face, John gestured back towards the motorcycle. “A while back a bunch of guys raided your house, and you took off on that bike, right?”
Barry nodded his head, still bewildered.
“I was the one calling you out of the house on the megaphone. You got away, and I lost a teammate to some of your neighbors before we could get out of that mess. Something happened, and our bird crashed. Now I’m living out here with some nice folks I met,” John explained with a smile that wasn’t one hundred percent friendly.
“So—you’re one of the people who tried to kidnap me?” Barry observed hesitantly.
John nodded. “I surely am, but that was the old me. I decided I didn’t care for what the government types were doing for themselves and not for the rest of the people in this country, who are dying from starvation and God knows what else, so I haven’t returned to my command.”
Barry slowly nodded his head in conservative agreement. John let his rifle hang loosely from the sling, no longer pointing it at the defenseless man on the ground.
“You know why the government wanted you?” John asked.
Barry nodded the affirmative. “Do you?” Barry countered.
John pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nope, no idea other than you were considered a current national asset.”
Barry snorted in disgust. “No one owns me or anyone else. They think they do, but they don’t.”
“So what are ya doing sneaking around out here?” John asked, changing the subject and getting back to business.
Barry gave a slight wave of his hands. “No—I wasn’t sneaking around out here. I smelled you guys and was trying to avoid people, since everyone seems willing to kill for a scrap of food. I crawled up here, saw your friend down there, and then you came up.”
John studied the man but didn’t detect an indication Barry was being mendacious. “You by yourself?”
Barry nodded, knowing this would work in his favor. One stranger posed far less of a threat than two with one unaccounted for. “I’m alone and have been since all this happened.”
“Can I trust you?” John asked, a serious look painted on his rugged features.
Barry was taken aback by the question. No one had asked that sort of question in the old world. No one trusted anyone unless they had a contract with that person, and even then, the trust only extended as far as a contract specified. Nowadays, Barry surmised, life was going to be different since a contract would be better suited for helping start a cooking fire than ensuring two parties remained true to their word. Maybe the world could get back to a handshake and a smile being enough to cement a deal between people.
“You can,” Barry voiced, still lying flat on his back.
“Well, then get up and grab your gear,” John said, gesturing to the weapons he’d tossed to the side. As Barry hauled himself to his feet and lumbered towards the rifle and pistol, John stopped himself from letting the man know what would happen if he tried anything funny. At this point in these new relationships, post event, it was important to maintain one’s advantage while also allowing the other party to retain some semblance of their own dignity.
If people were going to get along, they’d have to do little things that showed they respected and trusted each other. John decided to take a leap of faith with Barry.
“Why don’t you grab your bike and meet me at that little OP out there, where my buddy Jared is probably wondering what happened to me.”
Barry agreed and left in the direction of his motorcycle.
Chapter 4
John waited till the man was out of sight before running most of the way to the OP. Jared saw him coming at a dead run and pulled the butt of his rifle into the crook of his shoulder, searching for the cause of John’s need to run. John waved him off as he neared the little OP.
“We’re going to have company. I already spoke with the guy, and he’ll be riding in on his motorcycle, so don’t point any guns at him, but don’t relax either,” John gasped breathlessly as he dropped down in the OP next to Jared. A couple of minutes later, Barry came chugging over the ridge, riding slowly towards the two men.
“He’s armed, man,” Jared hissed.
John
