Our passage through the abandoned and empty town is quick and we are once again presented with the same scenery; brown and mostly barren fields with patches of green. A few small, stunted trees crop up here and there but for the most part, you can almost see the curvature of the earth. Some of the fields we pass have cattle grazing aimlessly while others have only dark lumps lying in them. It seems the surviving cattle are dependent on whether the water source and irrigation was natural or not. The natural irrigation is scarce as this appears to be mostly an agricultural area, or at least it used to be. The scenery passes by with only the hum of our tires on the pavement, the air passing over the open turret on top, and the vibration of the diesel to keep us company. The vibrations and sounds are lulling.
“Sir, we are approaching another town. It appears there are vehicles creating a roadblock on the highway before it,” Henderson calls out on the radio.
“Any movement?” I ask as McCafferty begins to slow down.
“I can’t tell for sure with the heat waves. I thought I saw something but I can’t be sure, sir,” he answers.
I radio the others and we come to a stop on the highway. I step outside with another set of binoculars and climb onto the roof. Standing on the roof looking over the expanse through the binoculars, I’m reminded of a picture I once saw. It was of a German commander staring at Moscow from just a few miles outside of it. He was staring at the city with smoke rising all around. That was as close as he ever came, or anyone from the German side for that matter. It has no bearing on our situation but the image comes to my mind anyway.
Vehicles, parked perpendicular to the road, are definitely blocking the highway but Henderson is right, the heat waves make it difficult to see if there is in fact anyone manning the road block. I focus off to the sides around the small town strung along the freeway. More dry fields separated by slightly raised dirt roads. There doesn’t appear to be any roads around the town nor do I see any movement on either side. I’m hesitant to drive closer as there is always a reason for a roadblock. It could have been set up much earlier and then the town fell into silence like so many others.
I lower my binoculars just as a spark strikes up from the road in front and to the left of us accompanied by the familiar sound of a ricochet. The report of a gunshot reaches us a second later. Yep, someone just took a shot at us. I guess that answers the question of whether the roadblock is being manned, I think hopping off the roof. Another spark and ricochet, closer this time, followed by the sound of the shot.
“Fuck that! We don’t have time for this,” I say hopping into the passenger seat and grabbing the radio.
“Horace, Greg, off the road to the right. We’re going around this fucking town. Keep your spacing but be able to support one another,” I say while directing McCafferty off the road.
She guns it and we head down a gravelly incline into a slight gully. Coming up the other side, we roll over a barb wire fence and enter a dry, dusty field. McCafferty continues accelerating. The other vehicles enter the field behind. Although the field is fairly flat, our speed makes the ride a little bumpy. We begin leaving a large dust plume behind us. With little wind, the dust hangs in the air partially obscuring Echo Team’s vehicle. Horace remains in view behind and offset to the right — away from the town.
“Greg, pull to the outside of Horace,” I call.
“Roger that,” he replies and I see his Humvee swing out.
This way everyone will have a clear line of sight for driving and the dust plume created by our vehicle should obscure both Horace’s and Greg’s. The sun glints in flashes off both windshields as they plow through the field. It’s not a mad race across the dusty ground but we don’t have much time if we’re to get down to Lubbock, look for McCafferty’s family, and get back before dark. This is only one obstacle and its eating at our time available. I’m glad we left early. My plan is to circumvent the town and be on our way as it’s apparent they aren’t in the mood for dinner guests.
“Sir, looks like we have company heading our way,” Henderson says over the radio.
I look past McCafferty to see plumes of dust rising in lines near where the roadblock was. I can’t see what the vehicles are but from the plumes, it appears they are trying to cut us off.
“What do you have, Henderson?” I ask.
“I see several… pickup trucks and… what looks like… some ATV’s,” he answers between bounces. So much for trying to circumvent the town and being on our way, I think grabbing for the microphone.
“Horace, Greg, we have company coming from the roadblock. Several pickup trucks and ATV’s cutting across the fields toward us,” I say knowing they may not be able to see what’s coming through the shroud of dust we are kicking up. I see the first of the raised roads coming up quickly.
“Henderson, hang on. Bit of a bump coming up,” I say.
McCafferty slows only slightly. Our front tires hit the small rise and we bounce over the narrow dirt strip landing hard on the incline on the other side. I bounce once leaving my seat and tilt my head to the side to avoid the quickly approaching ceiling. Just as quickly, I slam down into my seat and we are off once again. I look in the rear view to see Horace’s Humvee rise over the berm and slam down on the far side. The headlights and front of Greg’s vehicle shows and he goes through the same leap.
“How are our guests doing?” I ask Henderson.
“Still coming, sir,” he answers.
I look to see the dust plumes angling our direction still trying to cut us off. I can’t believe pickup trucks and quads are coming after three Humvees but maybe they don’t know what they’re chasing or didn’t see all three of us. Whatever the case, I can’t believe they would pursue. It doesn’t look like we are going to outrun them though. We can either engage them in the open or try to find a defensible location. They may outnumber us but I’m more than willing to bet we outgun them. Their closure rate is eliminating many of our options. I was kind of hoping they would give up if we ran far enough but that’s obviously not going to happen. Plus, I’m not overly happy with them taking some shots at us on the road. As a matter of fact, I’m rather pissed. The one thing I am worried about is someone coming from the other direction. If there’s a roadblock on one end of the town, I’m thinking there’s another on the other end.
The sound of something hard hitting the window next to McCafferty catches all of our attention. It’s a loud “tink” that all of us immediately recognize. Our heads snap to the sound and see a starred chip taken out of the glass. A lucky shot considering the speed and bouncing of both groups of vehicles but a shot nonetheless.
“Weapons free,” I tell Henderson and the other teams.
It’s time for us to do something about this and take care of these fucking assholes. I mean, seriously! What the fuck do they think they’re doing or hope to accomplish? Night runners are the issue and here they are shooting at other people. Fucking pricks. I feel the anger, along with a little fear, build up inside.
“Horace, Greg. I want you to start falling back. They are about 200 meters at our 8 o’clock and angling to cut us off. Can you see them?” I ask.
“No, sir. I can’t see anything in that direction through the dust cloud,” Horace replies. Greg answers the same.
“Good. That means they can’t see you either. Fall back. We’re going to cut to the right and lead them on. Horace, I want you to turn and charge through the dust and engage them on my command. Greg, fall further back and see if you can fall in behind them. We’ll turn to the left and across their front. We’ll have them on three sides and let them have it,” I say.