"Jeff, a month ago you were spouting conspiracy theories and trying to get any girl in the office to pay attention to you. Now you're leading a group of survivors?" He grinned smugly, the kind if smile you'd expect from the nerd who just beat up the star quarterback, and I looked at the faces of the men standing behind him in the distance. They didn't look military, but wore a sturdy clothing underneath makeshift armor. One had a motor cross helmet with red paint spattered all over it, another with a mutli-pocketed vest full of ammunition. The tallest stood near a beat up car, his foot propped up on the bumper, stroking a long thick mustache with one hand and flipped a butterfly knife with his other. All of their faces were dirty and hardened, and they eyes me suspiciously as their fingers hovered over their triggers or ran across blades. I got the impression that they were being obedient only because it suited them at the moment, and I wondered how much power Jeff truly had over this team of mercenaries.
I nodded in their direction. "How did you meet these guys?" Jeff looked over his shoulder and a confident, almost cocky smile. "I help them get what they need, and they keep me safe." I faked a smile but felt my veins turn to ice. Jeff looked behind me at my van. "So, whatcha got in there anyway?" I suddenly understood why his men were waiting patiently behind him.
"Just a few basic supplies, but barely enough for one person." I said, taking a step back toward the door. I tried to sound non-chalant but I felt warning bells sounding in my brain. The look in Jeff's eye told me he was no friend, not that he ever was before. I attempted a peace offering, hoping to stave off the inevitable. "I have a full box of MREs and a case of water, let me grab them for you." I stepped back again without turning my back. Jeff raised his hands and smiled. "Don't strain yourself, my guys can get them." The men standing behind him immediately snapped to action like a dog who had just been let off it's leash. I side-stepped, trying to block their way, and they looked back at him as though asking permission. Holding my hands up non-threateningly I kept my eyes on Jeff. "Jeff, don't do this, I'll share what I have." Jeff's smile disappeared. "We don't want some," he said, nodding to his guys. "We're taking it all."
The men pushed past me and opened the back of the van. Their eyes popped as they saw the supplies, weapons, and tools I had meticulously been gathering and their joyful comments echoed in my ears. "We hit the jackpot baby!" One called out. Jeff smiled triumphantly and looked me right in the eyes. "Thanks for stopping by," he said with an evil smile. "The freeway is that way." He pointed to the left down a narrow alleyway. It was barely big enough to walk through and I knew he intended to take everything I had.
I've never been an aggressive person. I don't pick fights and I wasn't the brave kid in school who stood up to the class bully. I've never thrown the first punch and I've walked away from more fights than I can count, so my first instinct would typically have been to let them have the supplies and find an alternate mode of transportation, but I needed that van and the supplies inside to get to Tracy.
"Jeff, don't do this, you're not a bad person," I said, trying one last time to appeal to his good side, hoping that either my negotiation skills or his natural goodness would trigger his conscience. In my heart I knew we were never close enough to give me any more credibility than a common stranger, but I had to at least make the attempt. "Look, I'm leaving the city, getting out where its safe. You guys should come with me." He turned and looked at me with a sneer. "We're plenty safe here." He said, and turned back to supervise the unloading of my van into the street. "I never liked you" he said, his back still facing me. "And I have no idea why she did." His reference to Tracy only infuriated me, and I wondered how he could assumed that of I hadn't been around he would have had a chance with her. I knew her well enough to know that wasn't the case. I wish she was here now. She'd smack him across the cheek and put him in his place. She was brave enough to stand up to every one of these thugs.
Being as quiet as I could, I reached for the handle of the driver's side door. Before they had time to react I jumped in the van and turned on the ignition. "Hey!" I heard the men call from the back. I pushed on the accelerator and felt the van lurch forward, doors swinging wildly as I spun around. Jeff raised a rifle, firing at the passenger window. Bullets whisked past my head and I felt the spattering glass shards bounce off my cheek. I ducked and spun the wheel to the right, pushing the accelerator to the floor. The doors on the back flapped, one slamming shut and the other hitting the side of the van. I heard a grunt and looked back just in time to see a wrench swinging toward my head. One of the mercenaries was still inside! I leaned to the right and instinctively swung the wheel to the left. The van lurched to its side, almost tipping before landing back on four wheels. As the momentum caught up with him I felt his body his the double doors on the right. Swinging back to the right again I looked in the rear view to see him grab hold of the tool shelf. A case of water fell out and skidded across the ground. Jeff and his cronies were still firing as I rounded the corner at the end of the street.
I leaned forward and reached under my belt to pull my pistol out. I had never shot a human, at least not a healthy one, and held the gun shakily with one hand as I struggled to maintain course with the other. He looked up at me and froze, but I saw a smile spread across his face slowly. He could tell I was too distracted to do anything, and I pulled my hand back just as he dove forward to grab it. As he leaned toward me I slammed on the brakes and he hit the dashboard hard, his head cracking against the inside of the windshield.
The cracks spiderwebbed outward from the impact and my vision watched the magnificent spiral effect. He seemed dazed and placed both hands on the dash to pull himself up. As he got to his knees he looked at the broken glass and I saw the color drain from his face.
No comments:
Post a Comment