Chapter 9
They watched Doug round the corner and heard gunshots. “We have work to do,” Lance said, stepping back. He looked at Jennifer with watery eyes. “Jennifer, you need to start on the ice chests. Allie and Carrie, you know how to close the shutters. They are just like the shutters at the cabin. Just turn the wheel till they close.”
“Let’s see what’s in the trailer already,” Ian said, and Lance nodded. They headed downstairs and into the garage. Lance and Ian pulled the empty ice chests over, and Jennifer went to work filling them. Walking over, they looked at the black Hummer and black, enclosed trailer. Lance didn’t know how big it was, but the trailer had three wheels on each side, and that seemed like a lot to him.
The Hummer and trailer were in the long bay that Doug had built for his RV. He only had the RV for a year and sold it, saying he could use their dads’ RVs. It may have been built for an RV, but the Hummer and trailer did a good job of taking up the length of the bay.
A door on the side of the trailer allowed them to get in, and they found the trailer was empty. “Damn,” Ian mumbled.
“Let’s look for straps so we can start stacking shit in here,” Lance said, feeling exhausted, but looked down at the trident in his hand. “Can’t quit,” he mumbled and pinned it to his shirt.
They walked into the kitchen and looked over the list on the counter. “He told us where everything is at,” Ian said and moved over to the ammo boxes stacked in the living room. It was dusk when they dragged all the ice chests over and fought to push them in the trailer.
“Stupid fucking thing,” Allie said, kicking the last ice chest.
Standing up and wiping his face, Lance said, “I’m sorry, but you can’t cuss. It’s not right.”
“You do, so I can,” she huffed and kicked the ice chest again.
Giving up, Lance leaned over and grabbed a handle, and the others moved over, helping to get it in the trailer. They stacked the ice chests over the wheels, four on each side and then two high. As they worked, Jennifer left to cook. When the list was done, the trailer was three-quarters full with an aisle down the middle.
“We haven’t even put anything in the Hummer yet,” Ian said, wiping his face. “Think we can take this harness and vest off while we work?”
“I don’t care. I’m taking mine off and going to find a holster to clip on,” Lance panted.
They laid their gear on the couch and headed to the office. They found their clip-on holsters for the XDMs and paddle magazine holsters. Clipping them on, both felt like they could fly they felt so light. They smelled food and took off to the kitchen to find Jennifer still cooking.
“Oh man, thank you,” Ian huffed then turned on the water in the sink and stuck his head under the faucet.
“Why did Doug have all this stuff here?” Jennifer asked, pulling out plates.
“He owned a security company, and this was gear he gave his guards to protect stuff,” Lance said, moving over to the sink as Ian stepped away with water dripping down his body from his head.
“Most security guards don’t even have guns, much less this stuff,” Jennifer said, putting the stack of plates on the kitchen table. Allie and Carrie ran over and started setting the plates around the table.
Ian shook his head, sending water everywhere. “No, his employees guarded like people from other countries or government sites.”
“And he kept it here at his house?”
Lance yanked his head back, throwing water off in an arc. “No, this is just extra. He owns some land outside of Knoxville where he trains his workers. It has whole buildings full of gear. It even has a driving course. He just keeps stuff here so he can ship things out and test.”
“One of the bedrooms upstairs has shelves full of clothes. Camouflage uniforms with knee and elbow pads, black pants, khaki pants, polo shirts, boots, under armor stuff, and tennis shoes. I thought the pants were dress pants, but they are thicker and have pockets on the side,” she said, turning off the stove.
“Those are tactical pants. Where do you think Ian and I got the tactical pants we’re wearing from?” Lance asked, grabbing a dish towel to wipe his face off.
“Can I see if some fit me?” Jennifer asked hopefully.
“He had girl guards, so there should be some up there, but you’re awful tiny,” Ian said, grabbing glasses, and opened the fridge. “Oh yes, he has Coke,” he cried out, and everyone cheered. Soda was banned at all of their houses.
Jennifer set the pots on the table. “How much more are we going to take?”
“As much as we can,” Lance said, grabbing a spoon and piling food on his plate.
“Can I have a gun like you two? If I have to fight, I want a big gun to do it with.”
“Yes, but we will have to teach you,” Ian said, shoveling food on his plate.
Dino came over and sat down between Lance and Allie. Sitting on the floor, Dino’s head was higher above the table than Allie’s. “Hold on, Dino; let me eat first,” Allie said, reaching back and rubbing his head. Moaning, Dino laid down on the floor.
Pausing the vacuuming up of his food, Ian sat back in his chair. “How about all of us take the clothes from upstairs that we can fit in?”
Dropping down in a chair at the kitchen table, Jennifer looked over. “How long do you think this can last?”
Shrugging, Ian said, “Hell if I know,” as Lance finished his plate off.
“I’m just thinking if it lasts a few years, we will outgrow our clothes. We need to get a few sizes bigger,” she said, grabbing her glass of Coke and savoring it.
Getting up, Lance nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
“When are you going to listen to your dad’s message?” Ian asked, leaning over the plate, and started shoveling food in his mouth.
“I think when I get to the cabin. I don’t want to cry,” Lance said in a soft voice as he put his plate in the sink. “Before we go crazy with the clothes and boots, let’s load up guns, ammunition, and stuff like that first. If someone attacks us, I would rather be naked and shooting back than clothed and waving at them.”
Chuckling, Jennifer pointed in the den and asked, “What about those hard boxes?”
“That’s night vision, and it goes in the Hummer. We will not leave that for any reason,” Lance said.
“Nothing is worth dying for, remember?” Jennifer said, draining her glass.
“Screw that. It’s scary out there at night. I want to see if something is coming,” Lance snapped and walked off.
When Lance was gone, Jennifer leaned over the table. “Did I make him mad?” she whispered to Ian.
“No, he doesn’t like to admit it’s scary out there at night,” Ian said, getting up. “But he’s right; it’s spooky in the woods at night.”
Seeing everyone leave, Allie grabbed the pots off the table and put them on the floor. “Here, Dino. You can eat now.” With a content moan, Dino lowered his muzzle into the pots.
Jennifer cleaned up and found Ian and Lance in the office, putting guns in hard plastic cases. She watched them put one gun in a case, close it up, and stack it. “Why are you only putting one in?”
“These are single-gun cases,” Ian said, opening another case as Lance handed him an AR. Walking over, Jennifer took it and laid it in the case and held out her hand for another one. Lance handed it to her, and Jennifer laid it upside down from the other one with the muzzles touching the magazine wells.
Looking at the case for a second, Jennifer moved both rifles down until the stock of one was an inch from the end. Then, she held out her hand, and Lance handed her another AR. She laid it in the case and held out her hand, taking another, and placed it upside down to the other one like the first two.
Stepping back and wiping the gun oil off her hand on her pants, she said with a smile, “There, four instead of one.”
Lance and Ian looked at the case then at each other. They turned and stared at the almost two dozen cases they had already packed. “They teach that shit in the Girl Scouts?” Lance asked, feeling really stupid.
“No, I had to learn how to pack a lot of stuff in two suitcases for softball, track, cheerleading, and gymnastics tournaments.”
Walking over to the stacks of gun cases they had loaded, Lance and Ian emptied them and packed them up like Jennifer did. On the first stack, they went from twelve gun cases to three. “Think you could do that with the trailer?” Ian asked hopefully.
“Just don’t even think about moving those fucking ice chests,” Lance said, moving back to the gun safes.
“I’ll get Allie and Carrie to help me.” Jennifer smiled and bounced out.
Ian watched her bounce out and shook his head, continuing to put guns in cases. “I can tell she took one of those pills.”
“Damn thing almost made me go to sleep,” Lance said, closing a case.
“Take another one,” Ian said, closing a case and stacking it with the others.
“Uncle Doug said only one every day,” Lance huffed, pulling out a gun.
Dragging more cases over, Ian looked up. “Fine, if you want to be tired.”
Lance walked over to the bag, digging around until he found the bottle and took another one. “I better not freak out,” he said, going back to loading cases.
“It just makes your head tingle like your hair is growing,” Ian laughed, pulling out a gun. “Hey, this is a SAW.”
“Can’t be. Aren’t they all illegal? It must be like the one we saw at that gun show and was only single shot,” Lance said, moving over, but found it was indeed a SAW or at least a SAW copy. “How did Uncle Doug get this? That one at the gun show was ten thousand dollars and was only semiautomatic.”
“Who cares? Even if it is a civilian version, I can put a belt in and squeeze the trigger two hundred times before reloading.” Ian grinned, looking at the machine gun.
“Where did you get it?” Lance asked, and Ian pointed at the end safe. Moving over, Lance saw several different guns that he had only seen in video games. Seeing three ARs and one with a big barrel, he grabbed it. “A grenade launcher,” he mumbled, pulling the weapon up and staring at it in awe. His eyes got big, and his knees felt weak. “Whoa.”
Ian looked up and noticed Lance’s face was pale. “What?” he said, putting the SAW in a case as Lance just stared at the selector switch on the AR with the grenade launcher. Getting up, Ian stepped over and looked at the selector switch. He saw- Safe, Single, Auto. “Fuck me, that’s an M-4.”
“Uncle Doug said he could only keep the machine guns at his training ranch. Why did he bring it here?” Lance asked, lowering the rifle.
“I don’t care. You think he has any bloopers?” Ian grinned.
“Ian, this isn’t Call of Duty. This is a machine gun with a grenade launcher. I really doubt Uncle Doug has forty millimeter grenades for it.”
Ian dove in the safe. “It still looks cool as hell,” he said, pulling out another rifle. “I think this is a SCAR.”
“What?” Lance said. He put the M-4 in a case and turned around. They looked the weapon over and pulled out more. They knew some, and they had no idea what others were. “Hey, we need to quit drooling and get to work,” Lance said, seeing weapons strewn across the floor.
“Think we can take all of them?”
“We’ll leave the clothes,” Lance said, going to his knees, and started arranging guns in cases. He soon realized it was like putting a puzzle together. Most of the cases they were able to get three or four assault rifles to fit. In one case, they put six P90s and another ten pistols with a few submachine guns they didn’t know; only “KRISS .45 ACP” was stamped on the guns. In another case, they put more submachine guns in, but they didn’t know what they were. On the side, they said “HK MP7.” They recognized the MP5 from Rainbow Six and several movies.
The scoped rifles they pulled out from the massive safes weren’t like the ones their dads had. They all had big scopes, stocks that weren’t made from wood, bipods, and detachable magazines. Try as they might, they could only fit two in a case, but they were able to add some pistols.
The top shelf in the middle safe was filled with suppressors of different sizes and calibers. Lance took all of them out, putting them on the desk. He looked at the laptop showing the empty cabin, wishing they were already there. “These go in the Hummer with us.”
Ian looked over, wiping sweat off his forehead with his forearm, and nodded, getting to his feet. Grabbing several pistol cases, he helped Lance load the suppressors. “I’m feeling much better about our chances.”
“Dude, we still have to figure out how to shoot some of these damn things. Uncle Doug only let us shoot real M-4s once last year when he took us to his training ranch. He let us use some of his ARs at the cabin and suppressors, but this is a lot of shit we know nothing about, and video games don’t count,” Lance said as he closed a case.
“Remember, Doug has that program on his computer about every gun made. He let us use it at the cabin when the new Call of Duty came out,” Ian said with a grin.
Snapping his eyes over on the laptop, Lance grinned. “Well, it was coming with us anyway.”
Ian laughed and moved over to the middle gun safe and found a stack of papers. He pulled one out and saw a stamp in the corner. “What the hell do you need a stamp for that cost two hundred dollars?”
“Huh,” Lance said, moving behind Ian to read over his shoulder. “Why do you need a stamp for a suppressor? Do they have to mail it to you?”