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“What was I supposed to do?” The manager’s face fell and he refused to meet their eyes.
“Coward.” GySgt. Fuimaono turned on his heel to leave.
“Follow him.” Landon sighed, before turning back to the manager. “Do you want me to take a look at your arm? I’m a medic.”
“It’s fine.” He looked past Landon, assuring himself that the threat was gone. “The swelling is starting to go down and I can almost use it again. As long as I don’t run out of meds, I’m good.” Landon nodded, picking up the lingering scent of weed that clung to the man’s clothes.
“Did you see or talk to the tenant in 3B after this happened? Was there a short woman with red hair and kids around here at some point?” He kept his voice soft as he fished for information, afraid that he’d snap like Gunny if this little shit saw something happen to his family, but needing to know what she was doing here.
The manager took a calming breath. “I didn’t see any kids, but she left with another woman in a big old blue truck a couple of days ago.”
Thank God. Landon unclenched his fists. Tessa would have wanted to protect the woman. His whole body ached to hold his wife. But she was safe at home and even had the means to take care of someone else. I knew you’d be okay. “Alright, this gang, do you know anything else about them?”
“Nah man.” The manager sniffed. “I’m not about that life. The cops wouldn’t do anything about it either. They’re too busy policing the shelter at the high school down on Glenridge Road. It’s like the wild west out here now, you know.”
When Landon didn’t respond, he continued, “So is the government coming to save us or what?”
“I don’t know.” Landon shrugged as he turned to leave. “Write to your congressman and ask him.”
“Please talk to this guy,” Sgt. Sierra groaned as GySgt. Fuimaono fumed, pacing across the hot pavement of the parking lot. “He wants to go door to door and look for anyone with a teardrop tattoo. How do we even find a gang? Aren’t those the type of people actively trying not to be found?”
“I’ll find the scum if it’s the last thing…”
Landon tuned out the gunnery sergeant’s tirade. She’s safe. That’s all that matters. “We go to the local cops and see if they have any intel. Supposedly, they are holed up at the high school.”
“Move.” GySgt. Fuimaono pushed past them and climbed into the AAV. The vehicle rocked side to side under his heavy footsteps.
“Do you think they have barf bags in here?” Sgt. Sierra sighed, crawling to the back as Gunny sat cussing and fuming while he turned on the engine.
“Probably not.” Landon shut the doors behind him. “And I really wish our kevlars weren’t sitting at the bottom of the ocean right now.”
Landon held to his seat as they made a hard left turn through the intersection, the metal sides of the vehicle creaking as Gunny urged it faster than the 45mph max speed. The bolts rattled under the pressure. Is drowning better than death by fiery explosion?
“I think it’s up at the end of this next street.” Landon struggled to remember the time seven months ago when there was a traffic jam and he’d used GPS to bypass the freeway and take the mountain roads back home.
“We should have asked for directions.” Sgt. Sierra sat in his seat, leaving the machine gun unmanned. If there was any threat at this moment, they were going to run it over anyway.
“I see it.” GySgt. Fuimaono’s shoulders flexed as he slammed on the brakes and the tracks trembled in protest. “Tell me where these pigs are.”
“Gunny,” Landon braced himself as he stood, “you stay here, okay? We need their help and I’m not going to play peace keeper while you go on a rampage.” Sgt. Sierra jumped from his seat, clinging to Landon’s back as he waited for the blow to come.
But GySgt. Fuimaono didn’t move. He stared straight ahead as reason somehow reached him and he whispered the word, “Hurry.”
“Stay with him.” Landon motioned to Sierra who was shaking his head vehemently. “Stay.”
“Fine.” Sgt. Sierra punched the seat before shoving open the turret hatch.
White buildings with blue metal roofs lined the road and open parking lot. The awnings provided meager shade to the people camped out front with lawn chairs and blankets spread on the sidewalks. The fields and running track behind the fence were packed with tents and a large grill cast up smoke from the distant back corner. Every eye seemed to turn to Landon as his boots hit the ground and he tightened his grip on his rifle, his gaze sweeping the crowd and trusting that Sierra had his back.
A low cheer started as Landon moved forward and built momentum when he neared the entrance of the school. Dirty hands clapped under the brutal sun and smiles beamed his way. Landon stopped short as he tried to get his bearings. They think I’m here to save them.
His instinct told him to fall back. Overt praise and all the “thanks for your service” had always made him uncomfortable. He’d been used to threats—grown with them until they were white noise that fueled his motivation. Tessa was the only one he’d ever trusted to tell him he was good enough. And the only way to get to her now was to move forward.
“Is this the calvary?” An officer in a dusty and wrinkled black uniform greeted Landon before he reached the front doors and looked beyond him to the armored vehicle.
“No, sir.” Landon glanced to the smiling faces that were reaching out to touch his arms like he was some kind of good luck charm. “Is your police chief here? I need to speak with him.”
“That useless jerk left a week ago.” The officer rubbed his mustache as he frowned. “I suppose whatever orders you have for us I can handle though.”
