case.
“Lay your weapons on the fucking ground… Now!” I shout. “Those who do will make it through the next few minutes still breathing. Those who don’t will see what awaits them in the next world. I’m not fucking kidding around here! Now, anyone want to be a hero?”
I see several have located me hidden underneath the branches. Or at least they have located where my voice is coming from. I also notice that the barrels of the weapons that were protruding from the store windows have vanished. That’s either a good thing or bad but I’m taking it as a good sign. We are in a decent position regardless of what happens next.
The whine of the Stryker approaching barely penetrates the babbling of the stream directly behind me. Several begin to lay their weapons to the ground at my gentle request. They look toward the sound coming their way. The mammoth turning the corner hastens the actions of some and their weapons clatter to the ground. A few begin to stand back up at the sound of the approaching Stryker. I have no idea what they think they can do against it armed as they are. It’s most likely an instinctive reaction.
“I would highly recommend you don’t do what’s going through your mind,” I shout. “Fire on us and you lose your free pass.”
All of the men gathered look stricken with a few turning toward the beefy man asking what they should do. The men who were lowering their weapons freeze in their position. The leader is in a tough spot and he knows it. He doesn’t want to sacrifice himself and is looking for a way to save face — something that he can say ‘it’s not worth it’ or something to that effect. Well, I do not really want to give him that chance. If he’s allowed to do that, he’ll just return and make for more trouble. We still have the search for the soldier’s family and I don’t want to be lingering around with these assholes trying to think of a way to get back at us.
“Greg, a warning burst down the middle of the street if you please,” I say on the radio.
“I aim to please,” I hear his reply.
“That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard… ever!” I state.
His reply is lost as the.50 cal opens up with a quick burst. The chunk… chunk… chunk… of the heavy caliber fills the air. The large rounds impact the street just in front of the trucks and create sparks where they hit. The thick whine of the bullets ricochets down the street. They impact a building farther down the road with substantial thumps. If my voice, the realization that they were surrounded, or the sight of the Stryker didn’t create a stir, the sound of the heavy gun firing and hitting so close sure spurs greater action. The weapons the men were holding now fall from loosened grips with a multitude of clatters.
Various forms of, “Fuck this! I’m outta here,” sound out as the group takes to their feet in a hurry. I’ve never seen such a big man run so fast in all my life. I’m pretty sure land-speed records are reached as they all take off down the street with him passing the lot of them in the process. They are soon lost from my view but I can hear their footsteps pounding on the pavement for a short while. I turn to look at the bridge expecting to see them cross but it remains empty. I’m guessing they ran farther to the north, a guess that is verified by Greg as well as Henderson. There still remain the people inside the store and the need to ascertain their inclination.
“Okay, those of you inside, it’s your turn,” I shout.
“Who are you?” A male voice asks.
“I’m Captain Jack Walker. I want you to lay down your weapons and come out single file showing your hands,” I respond.
“How do we know you aren’t like the others and just trying to lure us out?” The voice says.
“I guess my word is all I have. That and a 50 cal Stryker parked up the road,” I state.
“Works for me. We’re coming out.”
I watch as three men and two women emerge from inside with their hands raised. I don’t notice any weapons immediately visible. They spread in a line near the front.
“Is that everyone?” I ask.
“This is it,” one of the men answers.
“Okay. If we go in and find anyone, and we will go in, they’ll be treated as hostile. That means…” I say, leaving the statement hanging.
The small group in front of us looks at each other. I see the man doing the talking emit a sigh and his shoulders sag slightly. “Fred, Jim, come on out,” he says, looking over his shoulder. Two additional men exit the store.
“That’s it,” I say.
“Yeah, that’s everyone,” the man replies.
“You’re sure this time.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. This is all of us.”
“Greg, Henderson, and Denton, keep us covered. We’re moving to the group. Keep an eye out for the ones who fled,” I say over the radio. Greg and the others respond positively.
We leave our cover and approach the group cautiously. Gonzalez and McCafferty frisk each of the people as Robert, Bri, and I cover them. No additional weapons are found with the exception of a few knives and survival tools.
“Okay, and you are?” I ask.
“I’m Carl and this is…” he says, introducing the rest of his small group.
The group seems okay and we have them covered regardless. I have Greg move the Stryker past us to the main intersection of town just a block away. He’ll keep watch in that direction with Henderson and Denton providing cover behind us. I’m still not sure how fast the other antagonistic group will recover and respond, or if they even will, but the leader will want to save face somehow. I’m guessing they will return to whatever hideout they happen to have if they want to rearm themselves. Sitting out in the open like this isn’t giving me warm, fuzzy feelings so I want to make this quick.
“So, Carl, what’s your story?” I ask. I can tell he is hesitant about revealing anything but looking around at a dozen well-armed soldiers who happen to have a Stryker as a pet and the fact that we haven’t harmed him or his group seems to loosen him up.
“We have a place not too far away up in the hills. We are fairly self-sufficient and prepared to some extent for this. Occasionally though, we come down into these small towns to scavenge for supplies. Great Falls was overrun almost immediately so we avoid that place like the plague, pun intended,” Carl says. I give Carl and his group a quick rundown of our story, including the reason we are here.
“Sorry to give you bad news, captain, but no one has been around here in some time. I’m not sure where those other folks came from but they’re new here,” Carl says.
“Are there others in your place? You are welcome to come along with us if you’d like,” I say, explaining what that would entail.
“We have two others watching the place and we’d have to talk it over amongst ourselves,” Carl replies. “If you wouldn’t mind if we talked in private for a moment, we’ll let you know.”
“That’s fine but make it quick. There are still those others around and I’m not interested in finding out what they have for an encore,” I state.
Carl and his group gather together in a circle and I hear their murmurings. I can actually hear their conversation but I tune it out to give them a semblance of privacy.
“Hang tight everyone. We’re having a little pow wow here,” I radio.
Carl and his group finish their conversation and accept our invitation. “Supplies are running low in the area anyway,” he states. “We will need to gather our gear though. Is it okay if we retrieve our guns?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. You’ll have to be quick about gathering your gear. We’re going to search some more here to make sure there isn’t family still around. You can meet us at Malmstrom AFB. Do you know where that is?” I ask.
“Yeah, Captain, I know where that is,” Carl answers.
“Call me Jack. Okay, we have a C-130 parked there by the runway. Do you know what one looks like?” I say.
“I’ve ridden in one way too many times not to know one intimately,” he responds.
“Fun rides eh? Okay, it’s the only one there so make your way there, but be there before dark as we’ll be sealed up by then,” I state.
“You won’t find us out and about after dark. We’ll be there. The others seem to have left us a couple of
