plastic in the morning! I was paraphrasing from Apocalypse Now. Okay, so I wasn’t doing the movie any justice, but it was helping to calm my nerves. My brain works in mysterious ways. Just ask my wife, she’ll tell you. The truck lurched forward five feet and stalled. I did the same routine three more times. I didn’t have a true reference point but I figured this was what it felt like when those crazy cowboys hopped on one of those mechanical bucking broncos. I was hopping around that seat like I had eaten five cans of Mexican jumping beans. Justin was having a blast, I wasn’t having nearly as much fun. I had only just gotten my stomach completely under control about fifteen minutes previously. Alex waited about fifty feet ahead of us. I wanted to wave him forward, my fear being that I might not be able to stop this behemoth once I got it going. On my fourth attempt I was finally able to get the truck into second. That probably had more to do with the fact that I had burned the first gear completely out rather than any newly attained skill. Thank God, Safeway was only five hundred yards away, as it was it took me all of ten minutes to get there. As there was no way I was going to back this thing into the rear dock, I pulled up to the front doors and did what I did best, I stalled it.
“Well, that was something special to behold,” Alex said as he got out of the van smiling.
Sweat was pouring off me in sheets. Justin had broken a land speed record for carsickness. He puked as soon as he could scramble out of the cab.
“Not so funny now, is it?” I asked.
“Travis is riding home with you,” Justin answered between heaves.
“Okay guys, you know the drill.” I started. “Justin, you stay out here and keep watch. Blast the truck horn if you need us. Alex, Trav, you stay with me while we check this store out.”
CHAPTER 9
Journal Entry - 9
Justin was wiping his face and getting ready to climb up on the truck hood to get a better vantage point as we entered the store. The smell was….antiseptic. I was in heaven for a second.
“Don’t move!” came the voice from above, someone was using the store’s P.A. system.
We stopped moving.
“We...we don’t want any trouble,” came the anxious voice. I don’t know why he was so panicky, we were the ones being drawn down on, or so I thought. Who could possibly live in this day and age and not arm themselves. I should have known some pacifists would survive Armageddon.
“We don’t want any trouble either,” I responded, not knowing where to direct my voice so I found myself talking to the nearest speaker in the ceiling. “We just want to get some food and get back home.”
“Home,” the disembodied voice said with a whimsical lilt.
“Yeah, we live at the Little Turtle complex and we…” I began and didn’t get a chance to finish.
“Little Turtle!” came the excited reply. “My aunt lives… lived there.”
“That’s great!” I was beginning to feel like we could connect.
“Yeah, yeah, Jane, Jane Deneaux,” he added eagerly.
My hopes sank. If the nephew was a tenth like the aunt we were dead where we stood.
I’m not sure from what vantage point I was being watched but he must have seen my face fall at the mention of his aunt.
“Oh you must know her!” he said. “I know she’s an uber-bitch but she’s all the family I have now. If you put the guns down, we can talk.”
“Umm…” I replied. “We’re not having the best day today, I would feel much more comfortable if we held on to them. I will send these other two back outside and I will re-sling my gun, that’s the best I can offer.”
“That’ll have to do,” was his curt reply.
When Travis and Alex had gone back out and my weapon was back on my shoulder, a little man no more than 5’5” tall came out from behind the customer service desk. He wore coke bottle glasses, had a receding hairline that had probably earned him the nickname Five-Head. (I’ll explain –
“Well, that was something special to behold,” Alex said as he got out of the van smiling.
Sweat was pouring off me in sheets. Justin had broken a land speed record for carsickness. He puked as soon as he could scramble out of the cab.
“Not so funny now, is it?” I asked.
“Travis is riding home with you,” Justin answered between heaves.
“Okay guys, you know the drill.” I started. “Justin, you stay out here and keep watch. Blast the truck horn if you need us. Alex, Trav, you stay with me while we check this store out.”
CHAPTER 9
Journal Entry - 9
Justin was wiping his face and getting ready to climb up on the truck hood to get a better vantage point as we entered the store. The smell was….antiseptic. I was in heaven for a second.
“Don’t move!” came the voice from above, someone was using the store’s P.A. system.
We stopped moving.
“We...we don’t want any trouble,” came the anxious voice. I don’t know why he was so panicky, we were the ones being drawn down on, or so I thought. Who could possibly live in this day and age and not arm themselves. I should have known some pacifists would survive Armageddon.
“We don’t want any trouble either,” I responded, not knowing where to direct my voice so I found myself talking to the nearest speaker in the ceiling. “We just want to get some food and get back home.”
“Home,” the disembodied voice said with a whimsical lilt.
“Yeah, we live at the Little Turtle complex and we…” I began and didn’t get a chance to finish.
“Little Turtle!” came the excited reply. “My aunt lives… lived there.”
“That’s great!” I was beginning to feel like we could connect.
“Yeah, yeah, Jane, Jane Deneaux,” he added eagerly.
My hopes sank. If the nephew was a tenth like the aunt we were dead where we stood.
I’m not sure from what vantage point I was being watched but he must have seen my face fall at the mention of his aunt.
“Oh you must know her!” he said. “I know she’s an uber-bitch but she’s all the family I have now. If you put the guns down, we can talk.”
“Umm…” I replied. “We’re not having the best day today, I would feel much more comfortable if we held on to them. I will send these other two back outside and I will re-sling my gun, that’s the best I can offer.”
“That’ll have to do,” was his curt reply.
When Travis and Alex had gone back out and my weapon was back on my shoulder, a little man no more than 5’5” tall came out from behind the customer service desk. He wore coke bottle glasses, had a receding hairline that had probably earned him the nickname Five-Head. (I’ll explain –
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