behind.
“How we coming?” he asked the boys, both of whom were in their mid-20s.
“Almost done,” Barry said, wiping away the sweat that was dripping down his forehead and into his eyes and that caused him to blink and squint as he spoke.
“How much we got so far?” Jeff asked.
“I’d say getting close to half a barrel,” said Jerry.
Jeff nodded, “Not bad. If we…”
One of their northern lookouts gave a shrill whistle, “We got company!” he yelled behind him.
Gordon and Jeff both looked north. In the afternoon sun, they could see the glint of vehicles approaching in the distance.
“Alright boys!” Gordon yelled. “Let’s mount up! We don’t need any trouble. We got what we came for.”
Jerry and Barry quickly finished their pumping. “We got just about all of it,” Barry said.
“Good,” said Gordon. “Let’s go!”
They all packed into their respective vehicles and made for the exit ramp that would lead them back to the relative safety of home.
Gordon’s sons, Billy and Jerry, took the lead in one of the SUVs. The pickup hauling the diesel fuel and driven by his nephew Edwin was right behind them, and Gordon and Jeff followed closely behind their captured booty. Barry – Gordon’s youngest son – followed in the other pickup, and nephews Ian and Andrew provided rear cover for the convoy in the other SUV.
As they took the exit, it put them heading east and back towards the coast.
Gordon adjusted his side mirror. “Slide right so I can see,” he told Jeff.
Jeff maneuvered the Mustang over slightly out of line with the rest of the convoy that was traveling down the center of the two-lane road.
About a minute after they took the exit, Gordon could see vehicles pulling into line behind them, three abreast; and they were closing quickly.
“They’re followin’ us,” Gordon said to Jeff. “We could have some trouble on our hands.”
“We can handle them,” Jeff said confidently. “We’ve been through this before. Get home quick enough and we can catch ‘em like rats in a trap,” he nodded.
Just as he finished the words, two monstrous vehicles pulled out from the cover of the scrub brush lining the road about a half mile ahead of them.
“What the fuck are those?” Jeff frowned, lifting his foot from the accelerator slightly as the vehicles leading the way in front of them began to slow.
“Looks like armored vehicles,” said Gordon, pulling his handgun from the center console as two Stryker armored personnel carriers converged lengthwise across the entirety of the road, blocking the convoy’s route forward. “And it looks like we’re the rats in this trap.”
CHAPTER 2
Our group had been so happy, so content, so isolated. I thought we’d finally found a place we could call our home. We’d remained pleasantly untouched by the outside world in Olsten, Georgia for most of the spring and summer months and until we were suddenly and brutally assaulted by an unknown enemy that had literally burned our town out from under us.
This shocking turn of events had left our tiny town smoldering and in complete ruins and led us to realize that Olsten was apparently just another stop on our long road to nowhere – a road that had led us from the Chicagoland area down to the vast forests of southern Illinois, then on to the mountainous terrain of eastern Tennessee, and had now landed us, after our stint in Olsten, in the vast, moist, buggy wastelands of north Florida.
Frankly, all of us were sick and tired of having to pack up our lives and move on after being routed from spots where each time we thought we could settle down. The family road trip used to be something we enjoyed prior to the Su flu, a pandemic that had ravaged the world’s population. Such trips had been things to look forward to with anticipation, excitement, and a sense of adventure. They were opportunities to spend time with the
“How we coming?” he asked the boys, both of whom were in their mid-20s.
“Almost done,” Barry said, wiping away the sweat that was dripping down his forehead and into his eyes and that caused him to blink and squint as he spoke.
“How much we got so far?” Jeff asked.
“I’d say getting close to half a barrel,” said Jerry.
Jeff nodded, “Not bad. If we…”
One of their northern lookouts gave a shrill whistle, “We got company!” he yelled behind him.
Gordon and Jeff both looked north. In the afternoon sun, they could see the glint of vehicles approaching in the distance.
“Alright boys!” Gordon yelled. “Let’s mount up! We don’t need any trouble. We got what we came for.”
Jerry and Barry quickly finished their pumping. “We got just about all of it,” Barry said.
“Good,” said Gordon. “Let’s go!”
They all packed into their respective vehicles and made for the exit ramp that would lead them back to the relative safety of home.
Gordon’s sons, Billy and Jerry, took the lead in one of the SUVs. The pickup hauling the diesel fuel and driven by his nephew Edwin was right behind them, and Gordon and Jeff followed closely behind their captured booty. Barry – Gordon’s youngest son – followed in the other pickup, and nephews Ian and Andrew provided rear cover for the convoy in the other SUV.
As they took the exit, it put them heading east and back towards the coast.
Gordon adjusted his side mirror. “Slide right so I can see,” he told Jeff.
Jeff maneuvered the Mustang over slightly out of line with the rest of the convoy that was traveling down the center of the two-lane road.
About a minute after they took the exit, Gordon could see vehicles pulling into line behind them, three abreast; and they were closing quickly.
“They’re followin’ us,” Gordon said to Jeff. “We could have some trouble on our hands.”
“We can handle them,” Jeff said confidently. “We’ve been through this before. Get home quick enough and we can catch ‘em like rats in a trap,” he nodded.
Just as he finished the words, two monstrous vehicles pulled out from the cover of the scrub brush lining the road about a half mile ahead of them.
“What the fuck are those?” Jeff frowned, lifting his foot from the accelerator slightly as the vehicles leading the way in front of them began to slow.
“Looks like armored vehicles,” said Gordon, pulling his handgun from the center console as two Stryker armored personnel carriers converged lengthwise across the entirety of the road, blocking the convoy’s route forward. “And it looks like we’re the rats in this trap.”
CHAPTER 2
Our group had been so happy, so content, so isolated. I thought we’d finally found a place we could call our home. We’d remained pleasantly untouched by the outside world in Olsten, Georgia for most of the spring and summer months and until we were suddenly and brutally assaulted by an unknown enemy that had literally burned our town out from under us.
This shocking turn of events had left our tiny town smoldering and in complete ruins and led us to realize that Olsten was apparently just another stop on our long road to nowhere – a road that had led us from the Chicagoland area down to the vast forests of southern Illinois, then on to the mountainous terrain of eastern Tennessee, and had now landed us, after our stint in Olsten, in the vast, moist, buggy wastelands of north Florida.
Frankly, all of us were sick and tired of having to pack up our lives and move on after being routed from spots where each time we thought we could settle down. The family road trip used to be something we enjoyed prior to the Su flu, a pandemic that had ravaged the world’s population. Such trips had been things to look forward to with anticipation, excitement, and a sense of adventure. They were opportunities to spend time with the
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