Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“Damn, Mac,” said BB.

“Quit staring and get in here. Rhonda and three men are exposed topside while you’re dithering.”

“Copy that,” said Marty.

“Understood,” said BB.

“Yes, sir,” said Roger.

Marty entered after Jackson and BB followed. All smiled as if they’d found a small piece of Nirvana.

“Wow,” said Roger entering after them.

“Stuff your packs full first. Don’t forget the mac-n-cheese for Cody, Roger. No, I’ll do it. I think it’s in the one there. I’ll grab the candy, too.”

“This is a fresh M-4, Mac.” Marty held the weapon for closer inspection in the beam of his flashlight. The glint off the plastic wrap reflected, brightening the room.

“Yeah, about that… I’ll take that, Surf Boy, thank you very much. But, you can have my old one.”

“I’ll take it. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Hey, Rog, take that Colt Defender. You need a better backup. Like Surf Boy’s here.”

“Nice…”

“Oh, and Rog?”

“Yeah?”

“Give that M&P 9 sittin’ next to it to Cody to carry if you think he’s ready. It’s a subcompact so it should fit ’im pretty well.”

Roger studied the display of handguns well oiled and wrapped in clear plastic on a pegboard above the workbench. He hefted the Colt, smiling. Wasting no time, he slipped the Colt into his hands.

“This is beautiful.”

“I agree. Though that M&P’s no slacker.”

Roger found ammunition labeled nearby in smaller, green metal containers. He selected the one marked .45 and grabbed a box of fifty bullets to load the Colt. He grabbed the two stainless steel magazines next to the Colt and planned to fill them later. He slipped the Colt into his waistband with a huge smile, picking up the M&P. Gently, he pulled this gun from the plastic, turning it over in his hands.

“Cody’s gonna love it.”

“Tell ’im it’s from you. My gift to the both of you.”

“Thanks, Mac.”

“Don’t mention it. Gather as much ammo as you want to carry. Maybe it’ll save our asses out there one of these days.”

Jackson pulled a large bottle of Jack Daniels from the blue container.

“Found it! Ah, man, Mac. You weren’t lying!”

“A man could die waiting for you, Jackson.”

“I’m comin’ hold on…”

“Paper cups are there, next to the container marked rice, right behind it.”

“Okay.”

Jackson found the cups and quickly cracked the seal of the Jack Daniels. Roger, Marty, BB and Connor listened to the whisky pouring into the paper cups in his hands. Jackson filled each with at a double shot. By intent, all flashlights remained unwavering on the cups to ensure his aim was true. Jackson handed a cup to each.

“Worth the trip just for this Jack, Mac.”

“Glad to hear it, BB.”

Reverently, each held the whiskey in their hand, waiting for something.

“Say something, Mac,” suggested Marty.

Connor smiled at the men in the hole.

“Alright. But, John’s gonna be pissed that we started without him.” Everyone laughed before Connor continued. “I couldn’t ask for a better team… enough said.” He slugged the entire cup in one long shot, crushing the empty paper in his hand. The rest of the team stood in the cool cellar vault and did the same. None were disappointed.

“Hooahh,” said Marty. He raised his empty toward BB, Roger and Jackson.

“Wow!” said Roger.

BB let out a long breath tainting the air with whiskey fumes. Jackson coughed once after downing his cup. They all laughed.

“Fuckin’ lightweight,” said Connor, “I was worried that Jack might be too strong for a Jim Beam man.”

Realizing they all had ceremoniously crushed their cups and needed new ones to continue, they stared at Jackson.

“Get us some new cups and fill ’em up, lightweight,” suggested BB.

“Piss off, BB. And I’m doing it… hold your horses.”

Connor strolled across the burnt porch to stand next to Rhonda. Her small, makeshift fire in the Weber grill sat on the porch edge overlooking Jason and McLeod on the road below. The smoke from the fire was negligible. And, peering into the battered pot, Connor knew Rhonda was cooking a stew using the last of their dog meat and wild vegetables gathered before entering Pittsburgh.

“Here’s that rice, Rhonda.”

“Wow! Now that’s something worth seeing.” Rhonda took the twenty-pound bag, slitting the vacuum wrapper across the burlap top. She splashed several large handfuls into the pot.

Connor smiled. “There’s plenty more rice down below. Most of it is pretty solid. The seals held.”

“That’s great news.”

“It is. Though everyone’s gonna have a real heavy pack from here on out.”

“I know I don’t mind a heavy pack.”

“Agreed. Me neither.”

Something at the subconscious level bubbled to the surface. Uneasy and concentrating hard, Connor scanned the surroundings. He thought he might have heard a faint pulsing. In fact, it was like his own heartbeat was trying to tell him something. He made efforts to listen harder for the sound, but heard nothing.

“You do manage to keep us safe, don’t you?”

Connor shifted his attention to Rhonda, smiling bashfully. “We’re a team.” He tried to recapture the pulsing sound. It was gone.

“Yeah. You have nothing to do with it,” said Rhonda, smiling.

Blushing further at the compliment, Connor stared down at Jason and McLeod on the road below. Signaling thumbs up and that he’d be down shortly to provide an update, he turned again to Rhonda. Dipping into his duffle, he extracted a red wine.

“In celebration.” Connor handed her the merlot, “Thought you’d like it better than Jack Daniels.”

Rhonda took the offering with care and smiled. Connor turned toward Cody, who was trying his best to remain on guard and ignore the activity. Rhonda caught Connor studying Cody.

“He’s a great kid,” said Rhonda.

“He is for sure. You and Rog did well with ’im.”

“Thanks. And this wine’s wonderful, Mac. Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“Did you find Cody any mac-n-cheese?”

“I said I would, right?”

“Yeah. You did.”

Connor walked to Cody with a grin on his face. He stood beside him for a few seconds and they surveyed the surroundings together.

“Anything?”

“Thought I heard something, sir. I dunno, like a thump, thump coming from over there.” Cody pointed north toward the city of Pittsburgh.

“Yeah?” Connor shifted into full combat awareness. Cody had just confirmed the pulsing sound he heard was not his own heart.

“It was kinda like a very quiet thump. Not sure.”

“What kinda thump? A helicopter?”

“I dunno. A pulsing. Puuummp, puuummp, puuummp.”

“How close?”

“I dunno. Pretty far.” Cody pointed north and slightly west, toward the city.

“Excellent job, Cody. You did good. Oh, here, take these.” Connor reached into his duffle bag and handed over six boxes of mac-n-cheese. Admittedly, he enjoyed the way Cody’s eyes lit up and felt, for a moment, like he was a king bestowing gifts.

“Thanks!” Quickly, Cody took the boxes.

“You’re relieved, Cody. Again, good job.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Go take a peek in the vault and see what you might want to take with you.”

“The vault? Yeah?”

“Go.”

Cody nearly sprinted toward the black hole before Connor stopped him.

“Cody, wait! I forgot. Here.” Connor reached into his bag and handed over one of the bags of candy. Cody grabbed and held it in both hands.

“Wow!” He opened the bag and sampled a piece of Jolly Ranchers. Eyes widening, he smiled. “It’s still good!”