Deadland Rising (part 3 of the Deadland Saga)

Prudence (Chapter 12)

We moved in without waiting for the sun to set, figuring that if the thieves were halfway decent at surviving, they would've seen us long before we ever saw them.

Clutch was as hardheaded as they came, but he was also practical. We weren't going after the thieves, only our four missing trucks. The thieves had carried no guns when they'd stolen our trucks, so Clutch figured they had no ammo. Still, the plan wasn't without risk.

The plan was as simple and safe as we could make it: drive cautiously up to the trucks, check each truck for its keys, and drive off, all the while keeping an eye out for trouble. If the thieves tried anything, we were going to hightail it out of there.

Jase drove the Chevy. We'd emptied out the bed, leaving the drum of gas and extra supplies with the other vehicles under the overpass. Now, four men-Clutch, Griz, Marco, and Tom-rode in back, with each one going for a specific truck. I rode in back with them to look for any signs of trouble and to lay down cover fire if things turned messy.

I searched for movement as we approached the parking lot. Other than seeing some candles lit inside the church, I saw nothing. The parking lot was open, with few trees or shrubs to hide danger.

We didn't need the trucks and supplies. We could find more of both, but finding supplies wasn't easy or risk-free. The squadron had loaded all the canned food from the Costco into the trucks before they'd been stolen. To find as much food, we'd have to find another large store. Finding stores that hadn't been destroyed, looted, or infested was like finding needles in haystacks. Simply put, going after these trucks was safer than the alternative.

More important, it was a matter of honor.

Jase pulled in slowly, the engine a notch above idle. That I saw no one worried me. They had to have seen us or at least heard the truck. Noise carried more now without the constant hum of traffic, jets, television, and phones. My ears had become more sensitive to sound in the past several months.

Still, the only sound I could hear was Jase's truck. The only movement I could see was us. As soon as I started to wonder if the thieves weren't around, I noticed a figure move within the church. I homed in my scope to count six people inside the glass doors, watching us.

"We have at least a half dozen people inside the church," I announced. "They're standing inside the entrance."

"I have them," Clutch said, soon echoed by Griz and Marco.

"None have rifles. I see only spears and blunt weapons," Griz said. "These don't look like high-risk bandits. But, keep your eyes peeled for any of their friends."

It was hard not to stare at the people staring right back at us, but I forced myself to scan the bushes and under the trucks for snipers.

Jase slammed on the brakes, and I nearly went flying over the roof.

"There are nails all over the ground," Jase yelled. "They could pop my tires."

I looked forward to see the concrete glistening with metal. They were trying to cripple us, to either send us limping off, scared, or to chase us down and finish us off on the road. Worse, I didn't know how we could possibly make it far with the trucks since there was a field of nails between them and the road.

Clutch tapped the roof of the truck. "Stay here, Jase, but be ready to hit reverse and haul ass out of here if I give the call."

He set down his sword, stood in the truck, and faced the church. "We've come for our trucks. You stole items that didn't belong to you, and we're taking it back. No one has to get hurt. Don't show any aggression, and we'll take our trucks and be on our way. You can have everything else in the store. I'll give you ten seconds to respond. "