The Capital

Arrival in Oilfield Town

Just as we were settling back into a peaceful rhythm, the tranquility of the journey was shattered. Out of nowhere, a group of bandits appeared, their intentions clear as they surrounded the vehicle. The protectors sprang into action, their weapons at the ready, and for the first time, I saw Cal’s demeanor shift. He wasn’t joking or smirking; his expression was serious, focused.

The vehicle came to an abrupt halt, and the bandits closed in. The protectors moved quickly, positioning themselves around the vehicle, their eyes scanning the desert for any signs of movement.

Jake, the leader of the protectors, was the first to engage. He aimed his rifle at the closest bandit and fired, the sound echoing through the desert. The bandit dropped, but more were closing in, brandishing crude weapons—machetes, clubs, and a few rusty guns. 

Sam was right behind Jake, moving with a speed that was almost blinding. He dodged a swing from one of the bandits and delivered a quick blow to the man’s head, knocking him out cold. Leo, the quiet one, was lethal in his efficiency, taking down two bandits with precise shots to the knees, rendering them immobile.

Cal, to my surprise, was right in the thick of it, using his agility to outmaneuver the bandits. He wasn’t just fighting; he was protecting the vehicle, keeping the bandits away from us. I could see the determination in his eyes, a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor. He fought with a purpose, and it was clear that this was no game to him.

Meanwhile, Frank, the seasoned veteran, was providing cover fire from the top of the vehicle, his shots deadly accurate. He barked orders to the others, his experience showing as he directed the protectors in their defense. The bandits, realizing they were outmatched, began to retreat, but not before one last desperate charge towards the vehicle.

I was huddled with the other passengers, trying to stay calm, but the fear was palpable. Some of the kids were crying, their small bodies trembling with fear. I knelt down beside them, trying to comfort them with the story I had just told. "Remember the soldier from the story? He was brave, just like you can be. This will be over soon, and we’ll be safe."

The kids looked at me with wide eyes, nodding slightly, their fear easing just a bit as they clung to the hope in my words.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last of the bandits were driven off, and the protectors regrouped. They were talking amongst themselves, brushing off the battle as if it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"Just another day in the desert," Sam said, shaking his head. "These guys were amateurs."

Jake laughed, slapping him on the back. "Yeah, but you handled it like a pro. Good job out there."

Cal, who had been helping to secure the area, made his way back to the vehicle. He checked on everyone, making sure no one was hurt. When he got to me, he asked, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, still a bit shaken but grateful for his concern. "Yeah, I’m okay."

He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. "Good," he said softly before turning to join the others.

As the vehicle started moving again, I couldn’t help but reflect on what had just happened. The protectors had handled the situation with skill and bravery, and even Cal had shown a side of himself that I hadn’t expected. Despite the danger, I felt a bit more secure knowing that these were the people I was traveling with.

As we rolled into the next town, the driver, Lenny, picked up his makeshift microphone as usual, his voice crackling over the speakers. "Welcome to Greasehaven, folks! This town’s famous for its oil—yep, the black gold that keeps the world running. If you’ve never smelled it before, you’re about to get a nose full. Greasehaven’s got the biggest oil refineries for miles around, and the folks here know how to make a deal. We’ll be stopping here for a bit while I get some oil for this baby," he added, patting the dashboard affectionately.