Inside, there was no one but the driver. There’d only been the four men.
The driver was dead, slumped over the wheel, a bullet wound in his chest, which was stained with blood. His foot was still pressing against the gas pedal.
“Mandy!” called out Max. “It’s clear.”
Mandy was already exiting the cover of the trees, leading with her gun.
“You injured?” shouted Max.
She was still some distance away.
“No,” she called out, shaking her head. “You?”
Max shook his head. “Come on. We’ve got to get our gear.”
There wasn’t any hope in tipping the pickup back over.
Mandy was jogging over, as Max made his way back to the pickup, reaching into the bed trying to grab his pack, which was lodged in a corner.
“What are we going to do?” said Mandy. Her forehead was sweaty. She was pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Are we going to carry all this?”
“There’s a reason we brought packs,” said Max. “We’re not going to be able to get the SUV unstuck. We’re walking from here on out.”
“Shit,” muttered Mandy.
Max had gotten a hold of the strap of his pack and was about to pull it towards himself when he heard something.
“What’s that?” whispered Mandy. Her voice sounded full of worry.
Max turned around.
Down the road, coming from the way they’d driven, was the SUV that had driven away not long ago.
“Looks like round two,” said Mandy.
The SUV was driving fast. It swerved now into the empty oncoming lane, hugging the shoulder, kicking up dirt and plastic bags as if sped along.
Behind the SUV, Max could now see another car. It was an older model American made car, riding low to the ground. Which meant it was packed full of people.
There was no way they could fight them all off. They’d gotten lucky once. They weren’t going to get lucky again.
“We’ve got to go,” said Max.
“But our gear!”
“Now!” shouted Max.
He grabbed Mandy’s wrist and started pulling her away from the pickup.
He let go only as they both broke into a sprint. They were headed for the trees.
They had to make it.
Max’s leg was killing him. And it was slowing him down now. It was always worse the more exhausted he got.
But he kept at it. His arms were swinging. His boots were slamming into the ground.
Max glanced back over his shoulder. The vehicles were getting close. Too close.
Mandy made it into the cover of the trees first. Max followed.
They didn’t stop running. They had to slow down as they wove their ways through the densely packed trees.
There were no leaves on them. But they could hide behind the trunks, just as Mandy had.
“Behind the trees!” shouted Max.
Mandy was slightly ahead of him. She heard him, and darted behind a thick tree trunk.
Max did the same, pressing his back flat against the cool trunk. He was out of breath, and his chest was heaving from exertion. The only gun he had was his Glock.
He didn’t dare stick his head out. He waited, silently, glancing over at Mandy.
From the sound of it, both vehicles stopped instead of driving on by.
Maybe they were just stopping to see what had happened to the dead men. Or maybe to retrieve something from the crashed SUV. Or to pilfer the gear from Max and Mandy’s pickup.
Or maybe they were there to track down Max and Mandy. And kill them, for some unknown reason. This time with more men.
If they came after Max and Mandy, what would give them a higher chance of survival? Staying to fight? Or fleeing?
Max’s leg was killing him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was slower than he should have been.
But they couldn’t stay to fight. There was no way they’d make it.
Without seeing what was going on, Max had to guess what was happening from the noises.
Car doors slammed closed.
“Get the gas!” someone shouted.
No talk yet of finding Max and Mandy.
“You got a lighter?”
What did they want a lighter for?
Silence for a long minute.
“Give me that!”
Someone said something else, but Max couldn’t make it out.
“Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here!”
Max glanced over at Mandy. She was watching him with wide eyes, her eyebrows raised. She looked nervous and afraid.
A couple car doors slammed.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang. Sounded like an explosion.
What had happened?
Max heard the vehicle engines starting, and he heard the unmistakable sound of them driving off.
“Are we in the clear?” whispered Mandy.
“Sounds like it,” whispered Max. “I’m going to check.”
He stood up. He led with his Glock, getting out from behind the trunk.
The SUV and the car were gone.
There was still a chance they’d left a man behind. But Max doubted it.
The flipped pickup truck was in flames. The fuel tank had exploded. The men had set it on fire. Large flames licked at the edges of the chassis. It was a tower of red and orange flames, with blue inhabiting the center and trying to get to the top.
The SUV, too, was burning. But it hadn’t yet exploded.
They’d already settled on the fact that they’d be walking from here on out.
But now they were without their gear. And there was no chance of recouping it.
“Shit,” muttered Mandy, standing now beside Max.
“What do you have with you?” said Max.
“Always going right to the practical,” muttered Mandy, fishing through her pockets.
Max said nothing. He was thinking about what he had on his person, which wasn’t much. He had some pemmican in his pocket and a small bottle with a water filter built into it. The bottle was about half-full right now. He had his Glock, his knife, a compass, and a fire starter and some alcohol-soaked cotton balls.
He could start a fire, defend himself, make a trap, know which way he was headed. The pemmican would last about one day. But he knew he could push himself without food for far, far longer than that. He wouldn’t die of thirst so long as he could find a source of water.
Of course, this all depended on what Mandy had with her. He had her to think about, too.
“Um…” said Mandy. “I’ve got… not much…”
“Any food?” said Max.
“Nope,” said Mandy, shaking her head.
She was still checking her pockets, patting each one as if she might find something else.
“I’ve got some caffeine pills,” muttered Mandy.
“No pemmican?”
“It was in the truck.”
“And the maps?”
“In the truck. I’m sorry, Max.”
“We’ll be fine,” said Max, making mental calculations on how many calories might be in the chunk of pemmican he had in his pocket.
They stood there between the barren trees by the highway, watching their truck burning along with most of their gear.
“What are we going to do, Max? Are we still going to try to rescue that kid?”
Max was lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the flames.
Finally, he spoke. “I don’t think we’d be much help at this point,” he said.
Mandy nodded silently.
“It’s time we head home,” said Max. “There are people there who need our help just as much as that kid.”
“He’ll be fine,” said Mandy. But her words sounded hollow. “And we did what we could, Max. We both know it’s too dangerous to keep pushing on.”
Max nodded. “Well,” he said. “At least we know what the world is like outside the hunting grounds. It’s still chaos. Maybe worse than before.”
“Don’t say that,” said Mandy. “This is just one part of the country. Who knows what it’s like elsewhere. Maybe it’s not so violent everywhere.”