Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival (30 page)

He hunted in the back for a bit and came out with a large cargo net. He held it up to Terri and said, “Nothing up my sleeve,” but received no reaction from her.
Clearly she is tired and doesn’t appreciate my sophisticated humor.

Bishop poured water on the coal black net and rolled it around in the dirt with his boot. He poured a little water on the truck and threw several carefully filtered handfuls of dirt on the truck. Terri observed, “I bet you liked to play in mud as a boy.”

He began weaving the branches into the net, and Terri came over to help him finish the pile. They carefully draped it over the truck and then walked off a bit to view their handiwork.

Terri couldn’t believe it. From more than 50 feet away, the truck was almost invisible.

They anchored a hammock between the back of the truck and a scrub oak that barely held the weight. Bishop made a sunshade, and they were set. They took turns sleeping and keeping watch the rest of the day.

When the sun started to set, they both took a quick sponge bath to remove the coating of sweat caused by sleeping in the heat of the day and proceeded to pack everything up.

Bishop checked the gas and was not surprised to see they were down to a quarter of a tank. He took the two five-gallon cans they had left and poured them into the tank. It moved the gauge to slightly more than half of a tank.

Terri
and he went over the map again and reached a decision.

The Brewster Roadblock

They decided they didn’t have any choice and proceeded toward Brewster. It was completely dark by the time they could see the outlines of the buildings in the distance. Bishop was studying the road ahead using a combination of his night vision and the scope. The moon was providing more light than he would have liked, but it did help his spying.

“Stop!
” he said suddenly.

Terri stopped the truck immediately.

“There are two pickup trucks blocking the road. I can’t be sure, but I think there are men all around them. Either it is a guard post, or Brewster is having a rush hour traffic problem.”

Bishop studied the roadblock for a while and considered their options. “I think we are screwed on this one. We may have to backtrack.”

“I have an idea, Bishop.”

After listening for a few minutes, he responded, “No! Absolutely, positively not!”

“Bishop, this is 2015. Women have the vote; we make almost equal pay, and we serve in combat units. The days of you men having all the fun are over.”

It took some persuasion on her part, but he eventually agreed. When he thought about it later, he realized that there had never been any doubt Terri was going to win.
Never marry a woman smarter than you no matter how nice her boobs are.

They backed the truck up about 200 yards and pulled off the side of the road into some scrub. It wasn’t well hidden, but would have to do.

Bishop checked their gear while Terri got ready behind the truck. She came walking out and even in the low light, Bishop let out a wolf whistle.

They kissed and both said, “Good Luck – love you” at the same time.

Bishop took off through the scrub and brush using his NVD to avoid falling into the cactus.

Terri marked the time with her watch, gave him a ten-minute head start, and then started walking up the road to the roadblock.

Of the three guys on guard duty, one was asleep, and the other two were swapping stories of past conquests while commiserating about how horny they were. The one, young man had just finished a tale about his last trip to the River Walk in San Antonio and his chance encounter with a really hot babe. His friend was saying, “Dude, you are full of shit. Stuff like that never happens. Hot women don’t just fall into your lap like that.”

Just then they heard a female voice call out somewhat suggestively, “Hey
, at the trucks! Anyone home?”

One of the guards reached inside a truck, pulled on the headlights and sucked in his breath.

Terri was standing in the road about 75 feet away. She was dressed in a micro-miniskirt and was barefoot. She wore Bishop’s chest rig, and the straps barely covered her otherwise bare upper body. An M4 rifle slung across her shoulder, and her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She looked like a calendar girl for the National Rifle Association.

She covered her eyes from the suddenly bright light and made sure she turned sideways just enough to flash them a little boob.

There was no reaction from the guards for several seconds, and she thought she made a mistake convincing Bishop to let her try this. Before long, flashlights were combing the areas beside the road to see if she were alone.
Not completely stupid
, she thought.

She could hear hushed voices coming from the trucks and could just imagine the debate that was going on. Pretty soon, a voice yelled out, “Why don’t you set that rifle down
, and come on up here?”

“No
, thanks. I’m good right here. Why don’t you get that fucking light out of my eyes so we can talk?”

“What do you want?”

“What I
want
is to shoot your dumb asses and pass on through your town. What I
need
is to pass through your town and perhaps get some gas.”

She could hear them laughing quietly.

“This road is closed. No one other than the people who live here can pass. The last strangers we let through robbed us and shot two people.”

“I can trade.”

This brought more laughing and more hushed discussion.

“What do you have to trade?”

“I have ammunition and whiskey. You ain’t Indians, are ya?”

She could clearly hear them laughing now, and her response sparked even more debate.

“How about we just roll out there and grab that pretty ass; and after we are done with you, we go find your car parked up the road and just take the ammo and whiskey? How’s that for a trade?”

“You wouldn’t like that trade because right now, two of you are in the
crosshairs of very powerful sniper rifles, and if you even scratch your balls funny, you will be cut in half.”

“Bullshit. You probably have one person with you, and they are probably guarding your car. Set the rifle down, or we will sit you down.”

She almost smiled when the flashlights started searching the surrounding brush again.

“Fine. You boys don’t want to do a fair trade – you can kiss my ass.” Terri spun around, flipped her skirt up enough to show her bare bottom and started walking back up the road, hoping they wouldn’t shoot. She also hoped that Bishop had not seen her flash the boys because the removal of her panties had been a last minute addition to the plan.

“Hold on!” came a shout from the trucks. She stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“Why should we believe you got us covered? Tell me that.”

She spun, making sure the skirt flew up when she did and yelled back, “Look guys, I have been driving for two straight days. I’m tired, almost out of gas, and my boyfriend has had the shits and cramps. Do you want to do a trade or not?”

God
, I hope he didn’t see that skirt fly up
, she thought to herself.

“Tell ya what. We will let you pass if we can have a little party with you and some of that whiskey. We won’t hurt you - we just want to have a snip or two and a little fun. “

Terri acted as if she were seriously considering their proposal. She shifted her rifle around just a bit so that the front sight caught on her skirt. She shifted the rifle just a bit more, and it pulled up her skirt.
COME ON BISHOP
, she thought,
I A RUNNING OUT OF OPTIONS HERE.

Bishop had actually been behind the guard trucks before Terri had ever shouted her first challenge. He had a 12-gauge pump shotgun and had been watching the show since the beginning. He had almost made his move twice when Terri’s act had stopped him. He could see the three guys guarding the road were between 18 and 20 years old and really didn’t know what they were doing. The fact that they were young and piss poor sentries allowed him to relax a bit and just watch the show.

When he saw Terri’s skirt start to come up, he decided she was either enjoying the hell out of her little tease, or she was getting desperate. Either way, he had had enough, stepped around from behind the truck, and chambered a round into the shotgun.

A pump shotgun makes an unmistakable noise when a shell is chambered. The pump handle is moved forward and backward making a very distinct sound that many people have described as sounding like “Oh
, shit” in gun speak.

Bishop’s shotgun clearly announced, “Oh
, shit” to the three men, and he immediately added, “Put’em down, boys. Show’s over.”

The man closest to Bishop started to turn and received the hard plastic stock of the shotgun into his ribs for his effort. He dropped his weapon and fell to the ground cursing. The other two just stood there, and Bishop could smell urine as one of them had wet his pants.

“I said put them down. Nice and slow, just like in the movies. Nobody is going to get hurt unless you move too quickly.”

Both men slowly bent down and placed their guns on the ground. Bishop told them to take two steps forward and then kicked their weapons away.

He then took out a set of nylon tie strips and secured each man to the side mirrors of the pickup trucks. He reached in and turned off the lights that were still shining on Terri and then yelled out to her, “Hike that skirt up any higher, and you will have to strike a deal with me.”

One of the men snorted, and Bishop kicked him in the shin.

“Ok boys, I am unhappy. My wife just had to show off all her goodies because you idiots didn’t have the good sense to strike a fair deal for some ammo.”

One of the men started to say something, and Bishop slapped him across the mouth. “Shut the fuck up, hayseed.”

Terri walked up about then and just stood quietly to the side.

“Now gentlemen, we are going to have a little discussion. How many ice packs you boys need after we are done depends on how honest you are with me.”

He pointed the shotgun at the oldest and said, “How long before someone comes out to relieve you?”

“I don’t know what time is…”

Bishop kicked the man in the other shin.

“YOU!” he yelled at the next man, “ANSWER THE QUESTION!”

“They come at 7 a.m.”

“Next question, is there a roadblock like this on the other side of town?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now the next question, is there anyone on guard in the town?”

All three of the men just looked at each other and didn’t say anything. Bishop stepped close to the second man, reached down and cupped his testicles. The man inhaled sharply and screamed when Bishop pulled them up.

“OK, OK, OK, oh g
awd, Mister, OK.”

Bishop let off a little pressure, “I’ll rip them off if I don’t get a straight answer. Is anyone on guard in town?”

“No, gawd damn it…NO!”

“Two more questions. What is the signal that you boys need help?”

“Three shots followed by one shot. Everyone comes running when that happens.”

“Final question, do you think my wife is hot?” Bishop brought the shotgun up to his shoulder when he asked them the question. All three men looked at each other, then Bishop, and then the shotgun.

Bishop had never heard so many “umms” and “errrs” and “ahhhhs” before in his life.

Bishop laughed, but Terri had never heard him laugh like that.

He spun around and instructed in an ice-cold voice, “Terri, come here please.”

Terri was hesitant, but walked over. Bishop looked down, and her blood went cold. In the moonlight, she had seen a look in his eyes like she had never seen before. She could feel her throat getting tight, and her heart rate doubled.

He leaned over and said in a whisper, “Never do that again.”

Busting through Brewster

Bishop roughly checked the men for any knives or other weapons. As he approached, they tried to cross their legs to protect their testicles, which caused him to snicker. Bishop flung their weapons far out into the scrub, soon followed by their car keys. Terri left to bring their truck forward and arrived as he was asking the guards how much gas was in their tanks.

As Bishop started to drain their tanks, he told Terri to shoot the guards if they moved. He also noticed she had put on more clothes.

Once the gas was drained from both of the roadblock trucks, Terri and Bishop took off for downtown Brewster. Central Texas was dotted with similar towns. Most were originally settled on railroad lines or where there was water. In more recent years, their role changed to supporting nearby cattle ranches. Brewster consisted of a few businesses clustered around the main highway. The small downtown was surrounded by side streets of modest homes.

When they got to the town, Bishop pointed for Terri to park behind the feed store.

He got out of the truck, fired his rifle in the air three times and then once, and climbed back in.

It was about three minutes before two pickup trucks came from the south, zooming past and heading to help the other roadblock. “There they go. Let’s get out of here.”

Terri raised her night vision, hit the accelerator, and spun the tires taking off. As they headed south, they noticed movement around the sleepy town and knew other reinforcements were trying to wake up to answer the alarm.

She
accelerated the truck to almost eighty and much to Bishop’s relief, kept her focus on the road. After a few minutes, he said, “Terri, slow down – the gas mileage.”

“I don’t want them to catch up to us.”

“They won’t. Right now they are searching the town to make sure we aren’t robbing the feed store.”

“Bishop, how mad are you?”

“I’m not mad at you at all. Why do you think I’m upset?” he replied in a flat tone.

Terri’s tone made it clear she wasn’t buying his response.
“Bishop?”

“I did get a little upset when you turned your back on three men with guns who had already threatened you. You didn’t know if I were there yet or not. That put you in danger, and the thought of your being hurt naturally upsets me.”

“Bishop, if you are mad at me, please just yell and get it over with. That whole thing did not go down like I thought it would, and I probably messed up several times.”