“Yes, ma’am.”
“But not before you make good use of that water we found. I want you cleaned up spic and span. Use ten gallons each, if necessary”
“Okay,” said Scott, nearly out on his feet.
“Thanks, ma’am,” said GT.
“We’re on it,” said Shamus.
“Feel free to grab a fresh set of fatigues, if you want,” suggested the colonel.
Shamus laughed. Once formally retired from the military years back, all three men agreed never to wear such clothing ever again. There were way too many memories between them of the stench such clothing gave off in terms of sweat, blood, and a host of nauseous smells associated with past missions. “We’re okay with what we brought, ma’am.”
They left as a team, like always, this time heading toward the fresh water reserve.
CHAPTER 8.21-You Drive or Die, Puta
“If you’re not driving your best, you die. Got it?” The pick-up truck that Renaldo, Gabriella and Phoenix were driving had hit a huge pothole that jarred them all, making them bounce. But, both guns in Renaldo’s hands stayed jammed into Phoenix temple and side, no matter what movement the truck experienced.
“Screw yourself, Renaldo.”
Calmly, Renaldo shifted the Beretta in his right hand from Phoenix’s side and fired the gun into Phoenix’s left foot. The bullet nipped above the boot heel, slicing a half-inch in at a sharp downward angle. Just below the Achilles tendon, the bullet scraped bone, exiting the sole of the boot.
“Owwwwhh!” The pain was incredible and Phoenix turned toward Renaldo in fury, only to have the Taurus placed between his eyes.
“Eyes on the road puta or I’ll kill you now.” The threat in his sweet, young face was unmistakable.
Phoenix returned watering eyes to the road, trying his best to ignore the pulsing influx of pain. His grimace confirmed he was having a difficult time of it.
“I. Will… kill…”
The second bullet entered the top of his boot near his left toes. Probably, the small toe or the one next to it was gone.
“Ah, oh…” Phoenix’s eyes glazed with a new invasion of pain pounding into his brain.
“Shut. Up. And drive!”
“No, fair!… my turn next, Nully…”
Renaldo ignored his sister’s outburst. “Focus, puta or die now.”
Phoenix concentrated on the road before him, driving as if his life depended on it. Trying his best to ignore the pain, he kept his eyes on the road, careening passed bunched up cars and debris at a reckless pace. Far behind them, there was some action. He caught a glimpse in the rear view mirror of vehicles bouncing onto Brownsville Road and coming up the small grade from Arlington, but the sounds were distant. As it stood, Phoenix’s army had not yet fully recovered from the surprise kidnapping.
“Where we… going,” Phoenix managed to ask from gritted teeth.
“Where you ain’t,” mumbled Renaldo.
Gabriella kneeled on the seat and peeked out the back window. “They’re real far back. No one’s coming yet, Nully.”
“Good. Keep an eye out.”
“Nully, there’s a big bag of food. And a box o’bullets, .45s.”
“Good. Hold onto it, Gabby. I want ’em. The bullets are for this Taurus, too. We can eat later.”
“’Kay.”
Phoenix drove the truck about a mile and a half, twisting past wreckage, ruts, shattered asphalt, fallen trees and debris. A half-mile back, he passed Luke’s team and their last stated position. Driving past the old church where Luke was likely hidden, he had a fleeting desire to slow, hoping Luke was being updated. But, he knew he would not make any obvious moves of his own with the two guns held on him and a clear willingness of the young boy to use them. Making good time, while his blood drained onto the floor beneath the brake pedal, Phoenix felt a cold anger build. With the pain starting to subside, his icy, calculating mind returned.
“Why’re you lead man, huh? What makes you different?” asked Renaldo.
“Umm,” said Phoenix. His mind was in the process of calculating angles, speed and vectors.
“Gabby, see what else is in that bag.”
Phoenix concentrated on the sharp right turn coming up ahead. Renaldo was distracted and talking to Gabriella when he slammed hard on the brakes. He grabbed for the door handle with lightening speed, ignoring the Taurus bullet fired inches past his face and the Berretta bullet missing his midsection. Slipping from the truck, he hit the pavement and slid at first then rolled as the truck slid past. Smacking his right side against the curb, Phoenix followed the truck. It nearly collided with a guardrail, before slamming into a Volkswagen. Scrambling up and behind a broken brown building, He turned, limping back the way they’d come. Renaldo jumped out of the truck, staring at the retreating figure, gun pointed. Urgently, he waved Gabby out.
“C’mon, Gabby!”
“I got the bag!”
“C’mon, we gotta run!”
“’Kay.”
Gabriella and Renaldo took off down Brownsville Road at a blistering fast pace. Running hard, Renaldo found it difficult to tuck the Taurus into his pants after slipping the Beretta into the bag that Gabby carried.
“Where we going, Nully?”
“Away! Away to hide.”
“’Kay.”
“Let’s go to the shopping center. Hide. Kroger’s roof.”
“Yeah.”
Not surprisingly, Renaldo and Gabriella showed little exertion for their efforts. Preparation was the key. Even when low on edible food periodically the past few years, they both continued to train as they were taught, running at least two hard miles every day. Today, as luck would have it, they were running into familiar territory; this area of Brownsville Road only had seven adults to watch out for, five of which were mostly harmless. Turning the bend toward the Burger King, Renaldo heightened his already sharp vigilance, keeping an eye out for crazy Betty. Recalling what his father had said, he knew the woman had made the Burger King restaurant her own personal fiefdom and had many large caliber weapons to emphasize the point.
“We better slow up, Gabby. We can walk a bit.”
“Good. I wanted to stop.”
“See why we train? Huh? See, Gabby?”
“Yeah,… we did good, Nully.”
“I know it. Lucky’s all.”
Renaldo gave the Burger King a wide berth, continuing a fast walk down Brownsville Road. And, nearing the small dilapidated Smithy’s bar at the next curve, his eyes were trained to keep an eye out for the bright red backpack carried by Tinderbox, an on again, off again friend of his daddy. Often, Tinderbox was seen tending to the large vegetable garden he’d fashioned in the Carrick Cemetery that was situated behind the old corner bar.
“Want a snack?” asked Gabriella.
“What’s in there?” Renaldo grabbed the bag from Gabby, opening the top. Feeling the heft of the bag, he was impressed at the weight that Gabby had carried with no complaint. Setting the bag on the ground, Renaldo reached into the bottom and pulled several large chunks of dried deer or dog meat wrapped in gray cloth. Reaching in further, he pulled three red apples into the evening sunlight. He handed one to Gabriella and held one for himself.
“Wow!” said Gabriella in delight.
“Wow’s right. Let’s keep walking, Gabby.”
“’Kay.” Gabby took a huge bite. Renaldo did the same, picking up the bag to carry. “I didn’t like that man, Nully.”
“I know, Gabby. Neither did I.”
“Papa woulda killed him.”
“No.”
“No?”
“He woulda let you kill him, if given the chance.”
“Oh…”