Nathan Jones - Fuel

Alarmed, Matt started to reach for his bear spray, noting Trev doing the same next to him, but before either of them could get out their cans the nondescript short man whipped his other hand out of his pocket to point a small caliber pistol at Matt’s head. At his cue the other man not holding a baseball bat pulled out a larger handgun to point at Trev, while the rest raised their aluminum weapons threateningly.

“Ah ah,” the leader said, waggling a warning finger before tucking the hand not holding the gun back into its pocket. “Whatever you’re reaching for, take it out slowly and toss it over.” Matt complied, tossing the bear spray at the nondescript man’s feet. Once Trev’s can had also been tossed over the leader smiled. “Good. We don’t want to hurt you guys. You can keep going once you give us all your stuff. Consider it a tax for the privilege of entering the great town of Aspen Hill. That’s where you’re going, right?”

“Yeah,” Terry said cautiously. “Why?”

The men, who Matt guessed were refugees, chuckled. “Why not? Wonderful Aspen Hill! Where the men are men, the women are women, and everyone’s a heartless monster.” Even when he said that last bit he still acted cheerful.

“What do you mean we don’t want to hurt these guys, Razor?” one of the thugs with a bat growled. “I sure do.”

At that little Paul, clutched in April’s arms, began to cry. Either he sensed her fear or the man’s harsh tone frightened him. The refugee leader, Razor apparently, turned to glare at his lackey. “Cool it, man. But don’t worry, you still might get a chance if they don’t do exactly what I say.”

Trev started to move, and for a moment of pure panic Matt thought he was going to try something crazy again. But his friend was just raising his empty hands. “We won’t try anything. You can have all our stuff.”

“You’re right, I can.” Razor motioned with the gun and his three goons with bats rushed forward to strip off their backpacks and take the wagon, while he and his other armed friend kept Matt and Trev in their sights. “Even if you tried to stop us we’d take everything anyway, but this way you don’t get hurt. Especially the blond, there. She’d probably pimp out for a pretty good price back in camp even though nobody has anything.”

April gasped and shrank back, clutching Paul tight. “Leave my wife out of this,” Terry shouted, stepping in front of her.

Razor lost his amused expression in a flash, and just as quickly snapped his free hand back out of his pocket. In it he held a folding straight razor, the kind used for shaving, which he flicked open one-handed as he started for Matt’s brother-in-law. “You just had to open your mouth,” he snarled, running his thumb along the blade. It cut deep enough to make him bleed, and Matt wondered if this guy that had seemed like the calmest of the refugees was actually a psycho.

“They’ve got food, Razor!” the thug who’d taken the wagon suddenly yelled, straightening from rustling through the things stacked inside to hold up a can in triumph.

While Razor was momentarily distracted Trev slowly eased over to put himself between the nondescript man and Terry and April, making no threatening movements. “Yeah, we had food,” he said quietly. “Now you’ve got it and all our other stuff too. How about we just go, okay?”

For a moment Matt was sure his friend was about to get cut, but then Razor made his weapons disappear as quickly as he’d pulled them out, his hands once more shoved deep in the pockets of his baggy pants. “Thanks for your patronage, guys,” he said sarcastically. “Once you’re in town feel free to let your people know their borders are being watched, and they can expect much worse than what we gave you if they try to leave. Any of them that still have guns won’t for much longer, and even if that pencil neck Ferris sends his guys out after us we’ll just disappear for a while and come back later. So let Aspen Hill know they’re under siege and would’ve been attacked already if Ferris hadn’t shown up. I hope they’re ready to get a taste of what it’s like to be desperate and at the mercy of others, staring at a border they can’t cross.”

Matt wasn’t sure what the punk was talking about, but he wasn’t about to stop and ask. He started down the road past the five thugs as quickly as he could, leading the others and fighting the urge to look over his shoulder.

As he passed Razor the man casually leaned down and picked up a can of bear spray. “This is what you were defending yourselves with?” he asked, pointing the nozzle at his face with a grin. “Not a bad idea. Work well?”

“Yeah. You definitely don’t want to get sprayed with it,” Trev answered reluctantly.

“I’ll bet.” Razor flipped the can in his hand and without warning sprayed Terry in the face. April’s husband went down with a strangled noise and she screamed and dropped to her knees next to him, even as little Paul in her arms began choking and coughing from the residual mist in the air.

The refugee turned the still-spraying nozzle towards Trev, and Matt watched his friend start to duck away, too late. But before the spray could reach him the flow petered out to nothing.

“That’s it?” Razor demanded, glaring at the empty canister. “A few seconds? No wonder nobody uses this stuff.” He flung the can at Trev’s face, hitting him in the forehead. “Get out of here.”

Together Matt and Trev picked up a choking, wheezing Terry between them and did their best to drag him away as April hurried ahead with the two boys. After a hundred feet or so Matt glanced back to see that the refugee bandits were digging through the wagon and their backpacks, laughing as they tossed clothes aside to get to the food and other useful stuff inside.

Once they’d put a few curves in the road between them and Razor’s thugs April rushed back to take Terry in her arms, pulling him gently down to the ground with his head in her lap. “We have to wash out his eyes!” she snapped.

Terry nodded, looking scared as he choked out some desperate advice. “I’ve interned at the hospital long enough to see what pepper spray does. I could go temporarily blind, but more importantly if I pass out you need to check to make sure my airways stay clear and I keep breathing.”

Trev was already pulling a water bottle from his pack. “Let’s be quick. I want to get away from that nutjob before he decides to do anything else to us.”

For a tense minute they doused Terry’s face and flushed out his eyes, nose, and mouth, as April used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe away the snot streaming from his nostrils while he hunched over on the road, hacking and spitting over and over again. Matt had a lot more sympathy for the other people he’d sprayed when he saw his brother-in-law’s misery. Even if it had been necessary to defend himself it still looked like a miserable experience.

Long before Terry seemed the slightest bit recovered he pushed to his feet, staggering slightly. His eyes were scrunched shut and every time he opened them they were bloodshot and endlessly leaking tears. “Let’s get out of here,” he insisted. “Just guide me along, okay?”

Matt and Trev got under his arms to support him again while April led the boys ahead, and they walked as quickly as they could in the direction of the town. As they went Matt did his best to sort out what had just happened.

Who was Ferris? Why had Razor claimed that nobody in town had guns? And more importantly why was Turner letting this psycho and his refugee thugs mug people just a few miles outside of town? If Razor really didn’t care if they told anyone about him then did that mean he didn’t think there was anything the people in Aspen Hill could do to stop him?