Read Bug Out! Part 11: Motorhomes on the Dark Road for Free Online Page B

up her neck on both sides.
    “Where’s Howard?” Kurt asked, walking up.
    “He’s on vacation,” she said. “Who wants to know?”
    “I’m Kurt. Old friend of his.”
    “Oh, you with that party out at the old RV Park?”
    “Yeah,” Kurt said. “When do you expect him back?”
    “Not sure,” she said. “You look familiar.”
    “So do you,” Kurt said. “I used to come here to go hunting with Chet, years ago.”
    “Oh, that’s probably it,” she said, smiling. “I used to hang around with Scotty when I was young and stupid. Howard too. I’m Sherry.”
    “Oh, yeah,” Kurt said. “I remember now. Surprised I didn’t see you here before.”
    “Oh, I don’t actually work here,” she said. “I’m just helping Howard out in a pinch. He planned to be back earlier. Got caught east of big muddy after the nuke attack.”
    “Oh,” Kurt said. They were startled by the muffled sound of gunfire. Kurt got a scared look on his face. “Son of a bitch.”
    “What’s that?” Sherry asked, eyes wide.
    “Gunfire. See you later,” he said as he ran back to the jeep. Malcolm already had it running. Kurt jumped into the passenger seat and turned around to grab a rifle. “Haul ass.”
    “Yeah,” Malcolm said, driving off the lot, heading for the road out of town.
    There were a bunch more loud gunshots in rapid succession. “That’s George,” Kurt said. “He’s got the .50 cal opened up.”
    There was a loud explosion, and they could see the sky light up toward the park as they raced down the thin country road.
    “Mortar,” Malcolm shouted, trying to speed up. Another explosion lit up the sky.
    “Look,” Kurt said. “Semi-truck up ahead, looks like about half a mile.”
    “Glad it’s so flat here.”
    There was a lot more gunfire, a mixture of the .50 cal and hunting rifles.
    “You got any binoculars?” Kurt asked.
    “Yeah, glove box,” Malcolm said. “Hard to use at night though.”
    Kurt pulled them out as the jeep bounced and lurched, going too fast on the road. He tried to hold them up to his eyes.
    “Crap, they have a mortar pointing at the park. Our folks can’t see it. It’s behind the truck.”
    Then there was a flash, and the parking lot of the RV Park burst into flames.
    “We close enough yet?” Malcolm said.
    “Another couple hundred yards, and we can fire on them. There’s a stand of trees there. I’ll make for that.”
    The sound of the .50 call was wailing now, George firing as fast as he could pull the trigger, the hunting rifle shots mixed in. There was another mortar blast, and the truck was airborne, the cab in flames.
    “Bingo,” Malcolm said as he pulled up behind the trees.
    “That’s not enough, the trailer of that semi is still blocking the mortar,” Kurt yelled as he jumped out with his rifle. Malcolm followed him, and they both got a bead on the men manning the mortar, as they got ready to fire again. Both men started shooting, hitting the enemy fighters, knocking them down.
    “Nice shooting,” Malcolm said.
    “You too,” Kurt shouted. “Look, more coming out the back of the truck. Get ‘em!”
    They opened up again, hitting the three men who were running towards the mortar. Then there was a pop from a mortar again, and the semi-trailer was hit. It lifted off the round and rolled over in flames, burning men struggling to get out and run. There was nowhere for them to hide now, as Kurt and Malcolm shot at them from their side, and George and the others rained lead on them from the RV Park.
    “That got them,” Kurt shouted.
    “Just got a text,” Malcolm said. He pulled his phone out as Kurt got ready to walk over to the truck. “Don’t go over there. They’re going to hit the area with Willie Pete, to kill off any stragglers.”
    “Oh,” Kurt said, getting back down. “Good idea.”
    There was a bright flash that engulfed the entire area, blowing the fuel tank on the cab of the rig, thick black smoke rising into the night air. Malcolm and Kurt