Surviving Chaos

29

Nearby, there was a field of what looked like marijuana plants. They were tall, green, and almost wild looking, with their distinctive leaves poking out in all directions.

They were dealing with dangerous people. These were professional pot farmers, likely hardened criminals even before the EMP. And now, with no semblance of law, they’d be even more dangerous, even more free to create their own perverted justice.

Max had read the stories of hikers disappearing in state parks. They’d stumbled upon fields of pot, and been simply executed on the spot for their ignorance.

“Uh, Max,” whispered James urgently.

“Yeah?”

“I think I stepped on something.”

Max knew James wouldn’t have bothered to say something unless it was urgent. After all, they could be spotted at any moment. They were only getting closer to the tent.

“What’d you step on?”

“Some kind of wire. Take a look.”

Max glanced briefly down at James’s foot. Sure enough, there was a wire there.

Max knew instantly what it was. James had been right to tell him, rather than ignore it. It was some kind of trip wire that would alert someone to their presence. It was too much to hope that it’d been deactivated by the EMP. There were a hundred other ways to design a trip wire that didn’t rely on electronics.

So Max didn’t hope. He acted.

“Down!” whispered Max.

They both threw themselves down on the ground at exactly the right moment.

A loud crack rang out. A rifle shot.

There were a couple tree stumps nearby. Max gestured to James, and they both crawled on their bellies over to the stumps, keeping their bodies as close to the ground as they could.

The tent was in view. Max scanned the area, but at first he saw no one.

Then he spotted it. He could just see the head of the man, his tousled hair lying on the ground. He couldn’t see the rest of him, except for part of his rifle. And he was far off.

Max wouldn’t be able to get off a clean shot. Not with a handgun. The distance was too great.

It seemed hopeless. Surely there were others. Surely they stood no chance.

But Mandy was there.

They had to get Mandy.

Max had to make an impossible decision.

He made it fast.

The odds were stacked against them. It seemed impossible. It was a suicide mission. But it was one that Max had to follow through on. He simply couldn’t leave Mandy there.

But while he could throw his own life away, he couldn’t sacrifice James’s, too.

“James,” said Max, his tone commanding. “I’m doing this alone. It’s too dangerous. Head back to your mom and sister.”

“And let you go in alone?” said James.

“Yeah. And I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”

“Tough luck,” said James.

In that instant, James sprang up from the ground. Gun in hand, he dashed towards the pot field.

He was running fast, sprinting, his feet hitting the ground hard. But he was an easy target for the man with the rifle.

Another crack of the rifle. Loud.

Max’s heart stopped for a moment.

He watched, waiting for James to fall.

But he didn’t. The man with the rifle had missed.

James had gotten into the field alive. He disappeared into it. Even Max couldn’t see him. He was safe for now. But he’d probably do something else stupid soon enough.

Max wouldn’t be able to face Georgia if he got her son killed.

That idiot!

But Max shouldn’t have expected him to act any differently. In fact, if Max had been in James’s place, he would have done exactly the same thing.

If Max didn’t act soon, James would get himself killed.

Max tried to ignore the pain in his leg. His hand gripped his gun tightly.

Not much ammo left. But he tried not to think about that.

Max’s eyes scanned the surrounding area. The marijuana field led almost up to the tent. What James was likely planning was to sneak all the way to the end of it, and then attack the man with the rifle, who was lying there near the tent.

The only problem was that it was obvious. Too obvious. Unless the man with the rifle was a complete dunce, he’d come to the same conclusion as Max.

There was some shouting near the tent. So there was definitely more than just one of them.

If Max got up and ran to the tent, he’d be shot dead. No question.

If he ran to the field, he might be shot dead. He wasn’t as fast as James. Not with his leg.

The only thing to do was wait until James made his move, and then try to distract the man with the rifle.

He just hoped that whoever else was there wouldn’t cause too much of a problem.

And that was too much to hope for.

It happened fast. Too fast.

James burst out of the field, sprinting straight to the tent.

There wasn’t any time to curse James for his foolish bravery.

Max’s finger was squeezing the trigger, his handgun letting loose. He knew he wouldn’t hit the man with the rifle. But hopefully he’d startle him into acting just dumb enough for James to finish him off. All James needed was some luck, just a moment of hesitation on their enemies’ part.

Hopefully.

The rifle went off. Another loud crack.

Dirt near Max flew into the air. Some of the dirt rained against his leg.

Max heard something behind him.

He turned to look.

A massive man was there. In his hands was a huge ax.

And it was swinging right towards Max, in a huge arc.

Max rolled over just in time. The ax struck the ground and stayed there. It’d been driven there with so much force that the blade dug deep into the ground.

Another crack from the rifle.

Max couldn’t help but think the worst: James had been shot.

Dread filled him.

But he didn’t let that stop him from acting.

Max pulled the trigger, aiming his own gun right at the man’s giant chest.

One shot. Then another.

The bullets struck. But the man didn’t fall. Not yet. He stood there, looking dazed.

Max pulled the trigger again, but he was out of ammo. An empty click, and nothing more.

But the big man would die. Just not immediately.

As Max turned towards the tent, the huge man started to slump forward towards the ground.

Max didn’t know what had happened, whether James was alive or not. But he ran, as fast as he could. If James had been shot, Max would likely be shot too.

But on the off chance that James was alive, he’d need Max’s help. Even if he didn’t have a gun.

Max’s leg seared with pain as he covered the distance. He couldn’t see what had happened. The man with the rifle was nowhere to be seen. Neither was James.

Then he saw it.

James was standing there. Alive. Rifle in hand. His face was dead serious. A man with a bit of a stomach lay there on the ground, dead.

“Gun,” said Max, gesturing to the rifle. “I’m out of ammo.”

James handed it over.

Together, they entered the tent.

Mandy lay there, unconscious. Rope bound her hands, legs, and thighs. An old sock was stuffed into her mouth, and tied there with a dirty bandana.

Max put his fingers to her jugular.

“There’s a pulse,” he said, scanning her for injuries. “She looks OK.”

“Hey, man, what’s with all the noise? You start shooting at squirrels again or something?”

It was an unfamiliar, slightly hoarse voice. Apparently he hadn’t noticed his dead partner on the ground outside the tent.

Max and James exchanged a look.

The tent flap moved.

A tall, lanky man appeared. He was generally unkempt, even by post-EMP standards.

“Hey, man,” he said. “What the hell?”

Max and James raised their guns.

The tall man had one at his hip, but he didn’t reach for it. Instead, he raised his hands slowly above his head.

“How many people live here?” said Max. “How many of you are there?”

“Uh, three.”

“You sound unsure.”

“Uh, I had to count myself.”

The man’s eyes were glassy and bloodshot.

“Looks like we’re good, James,” said Max. “Now we just have to figure out what to do with him.”

“I know what to do with him,” said James. There was anger in his eyes. “This is what you get when you kidnap one of us.”

James fired.

The shot reverberated through dead silence. The lanky man fell to the ground.