Chapter 4

This happened to be a Tuesday, so all three of us were on patrol. It was about 10:30 PM and the movie theaters had finished the main feature and were clearing for the next crowd. We were passing by one of the most popular theaters when a sedan drove past us. It suddenly slowed down and two assault rifle barrels poked out of the windows on the passenger side.

Bullets started flying, and people on the sidewalk were being mowed down. Some people were protected by parked cars, but not enough to make a difference. The shooting went on for the time taken for the car to travel about 150 feet. At that point, the rifles were pulled back inside the car, and the driver sped up. Unfortunately for them, the shooters' car was impeded by other traffic, especially because several cars stopped at the sound of the shots.

That gave us a chance to thread our way among the other traffic and to pull parallel to the shooters' car. The men inside pulled out pistols and prepared to shoot at us. That was when Billy tossed something into the rear section of the car. As few seconds later, there was one hell of an explosion inside the car and it started to burn. Obviously, Billy had pitched a hand grenade into the car. There was no doubt that the four men inside the car were all dead, so, along with everybody else who could, we got out of there before the car's gasoline tank exploded.

When we were clear, I flagged everybody down and asked Billy, "Where in the hell did you get that grenade?"

He was very embarrassed when he answered. "I picked it up in the armory when we hit Honey Bee. It was just sitting there in front of me, and I thought that it might be useful, so I dropped it in my pocket. With all of the excitement, I forgot about it, and it was still in my pocket when I took my ninja suit off. At that point, I was afraid that I had disobeyed orders, so I didn't say anything. I figured that I had not used it, so I was clear.

"Later, I stashed it in my truck glove compartment, so I had it when I drove us here in my pickup. I dropped it in my pocket when we got out of the truck. I didn't expect to use it, but I figured that it couldn't hurt to have it along.

"Those guys in the car tonight didn't look like they were going to cooperate, and I was afraid that they might get excited and shoot someone else, so I pulled the pin and tossed the grenade at the back seat. You know what happened from there."

"How did you know that one of us might not be hit by shrapnel?"

"I could tell from pictures that I had seen that this was not that kind of grenade. It functioned just like the internet said that it would, so I was correct in my judgment."

"Dammit, Billy, I have to give you credit for doing the right thing, but I wish that you had told us that you had the grenade. One of us might have been hurt because of the surprise. You know that we are not immune to every thing that might happen.

"Oh, hell, you have just proved that I don't know everything! Now, I would like to know where we can get some more of those wonderful things." The two kids laughed at that, and the strain was relieved. Dammit, I was right about one thing—I had two smart kids!

We moved on before anybody could connect us with the fire in the car. It would have been nice to get some information from the ISIL people in the car, but That would not have been practical under the circumstances, so I didn't worry about it. The ISIL people had a habit of pulling only one gig at a time, so we figured that we could return home for now.

We had an indoor pool that we liked to use, and Billy asked Liz if he could invite Grace to an exclusive pool party on Saturday afternoon. After explaining just what he meant by an "exclusive" party, Liz laughed and okayed the deal. She told us that exclusive meant that we three were not welcome. We laughed, too, and promised to play nice while Grace was here.

The ISIL people were quiet all week, but I was busy trying to chase down where I could get us some more of those hand grenades like the one Billy had used. Well, that didn't look practical unless I was willing to travel to Mexico. There were a couple of arms dealers there who might be willing to part with some if I had a fortune I was willing to drop on them. I decided just to wait until our next time with an ISIL armory. Maybe we could pick up some then.

Since school was now in session, any trips I made during a weekday had to be made alone. That was kind of chancy, but I was getting antsy and a bit cabin feverish, so I decided to look into another of those places that we had addresses for that the DHS might have overlooked. I promised Liz that I would only look and not make any trouble, and I honestly meant to stick by my promise.

I drove our SUV to another ghost town out in the desert area without much hope of finding anything really interesting, but it was a chance to get out of the house and to be active, so I went. At least, this place had been on a map I had, though it was currently listed a having a population of zero. To me, that meant that the place deserved a look, so here I was.

I stopped about a mile away from the erstwhile town and set out on foot to see what there was to see. This time, I had my AK-47 with me just in case I ran into some trouble. I was not really afraid of being wounded by being shot, but I was not going to let a shooter get by without some answering fire. I was wearing a pack on my back, and I had two more loaded 30-round AK-47 magazines in there and three extra loaded magazines for my pistol. No longer would I depend on luck and my hopefully impervious skin.

I trudged into town without meeting any opposition, and I went through all five of the existing buildings without finding anything but some trash. I did find one wooden case that contained the specially treated paper often used by the Chinese to protect ammunition from wet weather, but that didn't prove anything beyond what I already knew. Okay, I could strike this place from my list of current armories.

However, as I stepped out of the building, I heard a gunshot close by, and a bullet crashed against my belly. Then a voice rang out, "TAKE THAT, YOU ISIL BASTARD!" On principle, I had fallen back into the shadow inside the building to try to find out what was going on when the bullet hit me. I didn't want to kill a source of information before I had a chance for a little conversation.

This voice, however, did not sound like it came from an ISIL member, so I shouted back, "HEY, DON'T SHOOT! I'M NOT AN ISIL MEMBER!"

That was enough to bring a male figure out of a building across the street. "HEY, I'M SORRY! I THOUGHT YOU BELONGED TO ISIL!"

"NO, I HATE THEM, TOO! MY NAME IS JIMMY! WHO ARE YOU?"

"I'M SAM CANTREL! WAIT FOR ME, AND I'LL COME OVER THERE!"

That was a reasonable offer, so I agreed to wait for him. A minute or so later, a boy I typed as a late teenager showed up. He was carrying a hunting rifle, and that must have been what he shot me with. "Dammit, Jimmie, I am sorry for shooting at you, but your body armor did a good job of stopping my slug. I guess that we are both lucky for that."

"Yeah, I agree. Why are you hanging around here, Sam?"

"Three weeks ago, a bunch of them Muslim bastards showed up with two trucks. They were here to pick up some stuff stored in the building you were in. My dad showed up on a hunting expedition—he was after jack rabbits. Well, that was his excuse. Actually, he was an amateur prospector, and he was cutting through here on his way home.

"Anyway, he saw the bastards just as they were finishing up with loading the last truck. He yelled a greeting at them, and one of them didn't pause before shooting him in the chest. He collapsed in the street, and they just left him to die.

"When he didn't come home when I expected him, I started looking for him on my ATV. I knew the route he usually used to get home from the mountains, so I had no trouble finding him in the street back there. I hauled him to the hospital as fast as I could without bouncing him too much. That was when he told me who had shot him and the circumstances. God damn them, my dad died before I could get him to the hospital. I swore that I would kill the bastards as soon as I could find them. I come by here every day looking for them, but I haven't seen them, yet."