That’s how it all started, I got in, no questions asked. When you trust a friend with your life you tend not to ask questions until it’s too late.
I got into the passenger seat,
laughing to myself, thinking this was a prank.
The tires screaming as they spun in place before throwing us forward
told me otherwise.
“Hey man,” I shouted in protest and
fear, yanking my foot completely in before the doors slammed itself shut. “What’s going on?”
“No time to explain,” he said,
staring at the road ahead of us. He
yanked the wheel quickly, not losing any speed, turning so hard I was thrown
into my door with a hard thump.
“Seatbelt,” is all he said as he tried to correct the car, keeping us
from rolling over.
I quickly yanked my seatbelt down
and snapped it into place. I braced
myself as the next turn was coming.
“You got your gun on you?”
“Of course,” I grunted through
clenched teeth as he made the turn.
“Superman or Reba?”
“Superman,” I answered, bracing
myself for the final turn out of the neighborhood. Seeing the light for the main road was still
red my heart began to beat faster.
“Slow down,” I shouted, “slow
He made the turn, narrowly missing
the two vehicles crisscrossing the intersection. Horns were honked but we were gone.
“Sit back down,” he said, looking
over at me.
I was bracing for an impact to the
point I was half way standing up in my seat.
“You want to tell me what the fuck
is going on,” I said, panic filling my voice.
He motioned to the back seat with a
nod of his head.
“It’s play time.”
Looking in the back seat I seen an
AK-47 and an AR-15. There was a box with
spare magazines and three boxes of ammunition for each.
“Load up,” he said as he honked his
horn, letting other drivers know he was plowing through another red light.
“What happened,” I asked, more
shocked than anything else.
“Just load up and don’t distract
I seen the highway coming up and
from the lane we were in it looked like we were able to head south. Everything bad always happens south.
“Fine,” I said, reaching for the box
and pulling it to the front, resting it on my lap. “But I only have one spare mag for Superman.”
“Bug out bag,” is all he said.
I glanced to the backseat once
again and all I saw was the two rifles.
I looked to the floorboards and found a small black duffle behind my
seat. Unbuckling my seatbelt I reached
over my seat and pulled the bag over to the front.
Unzipping it I seen two fifty round
boxes of ammunition for my pistol.
Anyone who truly knows me knows I only carry one size, a .45mm.
“I guess it is play time,” I said,
dropping the bag on the floor at my feet.
I separated the spare magazines
from the box and began loading the AK rounds first. First rule of thumb, always make sure the
other guy is ready first. Since the AK
is his signature rifle I made sure my friend was ready to go when we got to
wherever it was we were going.
I loaded what I assumed would be my
magazines and put the box on the floor board next to the bag. I could feel the tension coming from my
friend as we continued to barrow down the highway at ninety miles per hour,
weaving in and out between cars.
“Are you going to tell me who we’re
going to play with?”
“They shot the skinny bastard,” is
all he said. That was all he needed to
say. And that’s how I ended up in this