Bug Out! Part 8: RV Park Terror (20 page)

“I’ll bet he doesn’t know his name, though,” Jerry said, grinning. “We shouldn’t reveal anything to these guys until they get here.”

“Why?” Jasmine asked.

“Because we’ve got a tactical problem,” Jerry said. “We’ve got high level enemy leaders in our crosshairs, plus a General who may have been captured. Don’t you think two experienced people like these guys might be good to have with us? Remember, George is a Special Forces guy, and Malcolm is no slouch himself. They might come in handy.”

“You think they’d want to help us?” Jane asked.

“I’d bet money on it,” Jerry said.

“You might have something there,” Jasmine said. “We’ll have to wait a little while to meet with the group, though. We’ve got several people in town buying trailer stuff right now.”

“That’s right,” Jane said.

“We don’t have to respond to the e-mail right this second,” Jerry said. “Just go back to what you were doing. I won’t tell Frank yet either. Let’s keep him focused until our friends get back from town.”

“Agreed,” Jane said.

On I-80, George, Heidi, and Malcolm were making good time, blasting through Nevada.

“How far is Salt Lake City?” George asked. Heidi was in the passenger seat. She looked at her iPhone.

“About two hours.”

“I think we should pull over for gas when we see a good place,” George said. “We’re going to stop again in Salt Lake City to top up before the Rockies, but a short break would be good for Malcolm.”

“Want me to call and let him know we need to gas up?”

“Yeah, please,” George said.

Heidi dialed Malcolm.

“What’s up, sugar plum?”

Heidi giggled. “Oh, brother. Listen, George wants to get gas at the next place we see.”

“Good, I could use a break too,” he said. “I’ll keep my eyes open for the next truck stop.”

“Thanks, Malcolm. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

“Okay, George, he’s ready to stop too. He’ll look for a place.”

“Good,” George said. “Maybe you could drive for a while after that.”

“Love to,” she said.

She continued to look at her phone.

“See anything?” George asked.

“You know, there’s really not much here. I didn’t know that Utah was so desolate.”

“Yep, the northern part is kind of a wasteland,” George said.

“The only place I see coming up that might have some services is Bonneville.”

“Really? Always wanted to see that. Too bad we don’t have time to stick around for a few hours.”

“Maybe on the way home,” Heidi said. “We’re only about fifteen minutes from there.”

“Good,” George said.

They sat silently for a while, taking in the scenery.

“Could you imagine coming through this country in a covered wagon?” Heidi asked. “That must have been pretty wild.”

“The Oregon Trail is north of us a ways, goes through southern Idaho as I remember.”

Heidi looked it up on her iPhone. “Yep, you’re right, but we’ll be almost right on it when we’re in Wyoming and Nebraska.”

“Wonder if we’ll see markers?” George said.

“Probably. I wonder how many artifacts are still sitting along that trail?”

“Where people can get to it easily, it’s probably been picked over pretty good,” George said. “It’d be fun to take the Jeep back a ways and look around.”

“Around 400,000 people made the trip,” Heidi said. “So you know there’s lots of artifacts there. I’ll bet they’re protected, though.”

“Probably,” George said. “Look, a sign for Bonneville. It’s coming up in a few miles.”

“Good,” Heidi said.

The two watched as more cars started to appear on the road. Then Malcolm turned on his right turn blinker and started to slow down.

“Oh, the town is called Wendover,” George said. He followed Malcolm off of the interstate. There was a truck stop nearby, and they both pulled in to fuel up. George got the fuel flowing into his rig, and then walked over to Malcolm, while Heidi went over to the store to get coffee.

“How you holding up, Malcolm?” George asked.

“I’m good,” he replied,” but I needed a break.”

“We should stop again in Salt Lake City,” George said.

“I know. Maybe that’s where we’ll take a lunch break. It’s right before we start heading up into the Rockies.”

“Yeah,” George said. “That’s why I’m going to have Heidi drive for a while. I know she’s not going to want to deal with that, so I’ll rest up for it.”

“Here she comes,” Malcolm said. Heidi was carrying a paper tray with three coffees, and a bag sitting in the middle.

“Hope you wanted coffee, Malcolm,” she said, pulling one of the cups out of the hole in the paper tray and handing it to him. “You take it black, right?”

“Yes,” Malcolm said, smiling. “Thanks so much.”

“Want a donut?” she asked. She held the tray up towards him so he could look inside the bag.

“Ah, police food,” he said, chuckling. “Sure, I’ll have one.” He took one out of the bag, and grabbed one of the napkins.

“We’re going to stop for a little longer in Salt Lake City,” George said. “Maybe have some lunch before we start the big climb.”

“Good, that makes sense,” Heidi said.

The gas pump shut off with a clunk. “There’s ours,” George said. He took out the nozzle and put it back on the pump.

“Mine’s almost done too,” Malcolm said. “Want me to stay in the lead?”

“Yeah,” George said.

“Okay,” Malcolm said. His pump stopped with a clunk, and he got finished, as George and Heidi started towards the door of their rig.

“See you two in Salt Lake,” Malcolm said.

“Drive safe,” Heidi said. She felt kind of dumb after saying that. George saw it and chuckled as they climbed in the door.

Malcolm drove off the lot. Heidi fired up the Tiffin and started rolling up behind him. George noticed two pickup trucks, both with redneck looking young men in the back. They were watching.

“Uh oh,” he said. “We’re going to have company. Follow Malcolm. I’m going to bring one of the guns up here.” He unbuckled and got out of his seat.

“Shit,” Heidi said. “Should we call Malcolm?”

“I’m going to, as soon as I get back up here.”

“I see them in the mirror. They’re behind us,” Heidi said, her voice trembling. She drove back onto the interstate, and the two trucks followed.

George grabbed an assault rifle from the bedroom closet, and came back up. He noticed that one of the pickup trucks was passing them on the left, heading towards Malcolm at high speed. The other one was hanging back, but he could see them. He pulled out his phone and hit Malcolm’s contact icon.

“Malcolm, we got company.”

“Pickup truck full of inbreeds, right?”

“Yeah, you see them?”

“Yep, they’re coming up on my left side. I think I’ll make a lane change. Later.”

“Wow!” Heidi cried. “Malcolm just did a quick lane change, and almost took that pickup truck out! Now they’re trying to get to the right of him.”

“Keep it steady,” George said. “I’m going to take out these idiots on our left.” He slid open the window by the dinette, and pointed the assault rifle at the truck. It was pulling up alongside quickly now. “Go to hell!” he shouted, and sprayed the cab with gunfire, hitting both the driver and the passenger. The truck went out of control and careened into the ditch on the left side of the road, hitting the soft dirt and cartwheeling. “Scratch one truckload of inbreeds.” George laughed. “How’s Malcolm doing?”

“They’re trying to force him off the road,” Heidi said. “Those idiots think they’re going to move a 44 foot diesel with a pickup truck!”

George laughed. “Yeah, that’ll be interesting. That’s a 50 thousand pound rig.”

“Whoa, he just lunged at them, and they almost came off the road,” she cried. George got back up in the passenger seat, gun still in his hands.

“Malcolm’s just playing with him, but he’d better be careful,” George said. “They might shoot out his tires.”

“I don’t think they want to do that,” Heidi said. “They want the vehicle.”

“You’re right. They probably think there’s some old retired couple in there,” George said, chuckling.

“Uh oh,” Heidi said. “They’re alongside the front passenger side, and one of the guys in the back is pointing a gun in the window at Malcolm.”

“I see it. That won’t go over well,” George said, watching, his heart pounding. Malcolm’s coach lurched hard to the right, sweeping the pickup truck off of the road. It hit the shoulder and rolled several times. Malcolm slammed on the brakes and parked by the side of the road. Heidi pulled up a little ways behind him, and George leaped out of his seat, just as Malcolm was walking out, pistol in hand.

“Stay in the coach, Heidi, and take the pistol out of the side map holder just in case. Keep your eyes open.” She nodded and grabbed the gun, checking the clip to make sure it was loaded.

“What’re you guys going to do?” she asked, sounding out of breath.

“Those are enemy combatants. What do you think?”

“Don’t get shot,” she said.

George met Malcolm on the side of the road. They started walking towards the truck, which was laying upside down, smoke billowing out of the engine compartment. Two men got to their feet from behind it and ran.

“Pull!” Malcolm shouted, laughing. Then he fired his rifle and hit the first militia man, sending him sprawling on the ground. George shook his head, laughing, and shot the other one with the assault rifle. They walked closer.

“How many were in this thing again?” Malcolm asked. “Hard to see from where I was.”

“Two in the cab, three in the back,” George said.

“Help me,” a voice said, coming out from the cab. “It’s going to blow. Please get me out of here.”

George and Malcolm looked at each other, then got closer. Malcolm looked in the cab.

“Well, hello there, inbreed,” Malcolm said. “What was that you wanted?”

“Get me out, please,” he croaked.

“Hey, Malcolm, the other guy from the back is dead,” George said. “Looks like his head almost got pulled off. He’s over there.”

“Well, that’s really too bad. The driver’s deader than a doornail too. So tragic,” he said, with semi-serious tone. “What’s that over there?”

“Jerry can,” George said. “Must have been in the back. Surprised it isn’t further away from the truck.”

“Got anything in it?”

George picked it up and shook it. “Aw, maybe a third full or so.”

“Good, bring it over here,” Malcolm said.

“Get me out, please. I don’t want to burn up,” croaked the voice from the cab.

“Thanks, George,” Malcolm said, taking the can. He leaned his gun up against his leg and opened the can. “Smells like gas alright.” He turned the can sideways and shook some gasoline into the cab, causing the militia man to scream. Then he walked slowly away from the truck, pouring a long trail.

“You’re a sick puppy,” George said.

“Hey, this is an enemy combatant. You know they would have raped Heidi and then killed all three of us if we wouldn’t have won.”

“You know something? You’re right,” George said, a wicked grin on his face. “Got a match?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Haven’t been able to give up those damn cigars yet. Gonna be the death of me.” He pulled out a match, lit it, and dropped it onto the gasoline trail. The line of flame moved quickly to the truck, and the cab became an inferno in a noisy rush. The militia man screamed.

“Ah, shut up, inbreed,” Malcolm shouted.

“We’d better get out of here,” George said.

“Yeah, I guess. Those creeps scratched up my rig.”

“It road worthy?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Malcolm said, taking a last look at the burning vehicle. The militia man had stopped screaming. Malcolm got a grin on his face. “I’m gonna enjoy this trip. Onward.” He walked back into his coach.

George entered his rig, and slid into the passenger seat again. He looked over at Heidi. “Ready to go?”

“Did you guys really have to do that?” she asked, a disgusted look on his face. “I knew you guys were going to kill him, but did you have to burn him alive?”

“Yeah,” George said, “and I hope the enemy sees what we did.”

“Why, so they’ll come after us?”

“No, so they’ll fear us,” George said. He didn’t look at her.

Back in Kansas, the Suburban and the bobtail pulled into Howard’s truck stop. The men all piled out, and headed for the store.

“Hey, guys, how you doing?” Howard asked, smiling at them from behind the counter.

“The place is coming along great,” Gabe said, smiling. “We need a few things.”

“Okay, what?” Howard asked. Gabe slid a piece of paper across the counter to him. “Hmmmm, I’ve got all the tires. Also got the batteries and the trailer light connectors. You guys know I have the propane, so bring the bottles over by the tank out front. I don’t have any fifth wheel hitches, but I know somebody who sells those. I suggest that you bring the truck that needs that in, rather than try to install it yourself, though. Is it with you?”

“No,” Dobie said. “But I’ll bring it back.”

“Okay,” Howard said. He pulled a business card out from below the counter and handed it to him. “Here’s the card for the guy I know. He’ll do a good job for you.”

Dobie looked at it. “Chuck’s RV Warehouse, huh?” he said. “Thanks.”

“By the way, I do deliver propane, so if you end up needing refills down the road, just give me a call.”

“We’ll probably take you up on that,” Gabe said.

“How’d the glass company do?” Howard asked.

“Great, thanks. I couldn’t believe how quick they were,” Dobie said. “We might need some chain link work done. We’ll be needing a couple of gates put in, and some cement and post work.”

“Well, surprisingly enough, I know somebody who does that too,” Howard said, chuckling. “Don’t have a card for him, though. Just call me when you’re ready, and I’ll put you in touch for a quote.”

“Good,” Gabe said.

“Think you’re going to stick it out there during the winter?”

“I don’t know, Howard. Hopefully,” Dobie said. “How bad does it get here? Will we be totally stuck out there?”

“At times,” he said. “The plows don’t get all the way out there that often. You get the power back on alright?”

“Yeah, they turned that on after a phone conversation. Same with the satellite system,” Dobie said.