Chapter Fifteen

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The 24/7 Travel Center was little more than an oversized convenience store for truckers, with a few amenities specifically for truckers. Unsurprisingly there was nobody around. These alien invaders were the ultimate party crashers. 

But whomever had been running the store hadn't bothered to lock it up; they just ran. So the crew let themselves in and began scooping snack foods into backpacks. The hot dogs and churros were burning on the heating rollers, so Alex took a minute to turn them off. 

"Leave some money on the counter," Alex called to his people.

"Why?" Tony asked, "it's not likely that they'll be back any time soon to open for business."

"Call it a moral imperative. You can psychoanalyze me later."

The front doors opening set off a doorbell as John came in; "I got the truck filled up. and a few gas cans as well. This thing really sucks down the gas with all of the extra weight."

"Thanks. Now get yourself something to eat. We'll be settling in here for the night. It's been a very long day for all of us."

"Amen to that, brother."

"Where'd you get a Subway sandwich?"

Shannon had just walked up to Alex, 12" sandwich in hand, happily nibbling on it. "What?" she tried to say around a mouth full of veggies, so it came out more like, "Maah?"

"Subway," Tony pointed, "right through there."

"I'm going to run over to McDonalds and make me up a burger," Karen said, "then I'm gonna pass out in a motel bed from a food coma. Well, that and general exhaustion. Anybody with me?"

"Me," John volunteered immediately.

"Me too," JJ's hand shot up like he was in grade school.

"I'll join you," Alex said as his stomach rumbled loud enough for Shannon to hear.

"I'm going to grab a sub here," Tony said, "I'll meet you over there."

"You sure you know how to work that thing?" Alex asked.

"Oh yeah," Shannon said, "I used to work at a motel."

"Single occupancy, queen bed please, with a view of the interstate."

"Coming right up, sir," she said as she worked the computer. A moment later, a key card spat out from the machine. "Here you go. Do you want us all close together?"

"Yes. One empty room between us, if possible."

"Of course." 

It took a few minutes, but she got a keycard for each of them, and used post-it notes to label each one with a name and room number. 

It took a moment for them to notice the sound of cars on the interstate. Normally it wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary, but with the mass exodus of people, it certainly piqued their attention.

"Get the lights," Alex told Shannon as he ran for the doors.

Shoving the door open, he moved to where he had a better view of the road. In the dying light he could see headlights coming from the east, and heard several vehicles, including at least one Harley with it's loud, throbbing engine.

"Keep going," he whispered, willing the thought to the drivers, "don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop."

"Why don't you want them to stop?"

"They're loud and careless, and they might be dangerous."

"Dangerous? How?"

"First, they could easily attract the attention of the aliens with all of that light and noise. Second, they might be the type to take what they want from other people, like us. Dammit!"

The lead car, a Cadillac SUV, turned off onto the exit ramp, followed by five or six other SUVs and pickups, along with four motorcycles.

"JJ," he yelled as he unslung his rifle from his shoulder and ran towards the McDonalds where the others were still finishing their dinner. "JJ!"

"Yes, Sergeant," he said as he came around form behind the restaurant.

"Incoming. Get the others to the truck and meet me in front of the motel. No lights."

"Yes Sergeant," he said, immediately sprinting to the burger shack to get the others.

Once again Fate scoffed at his wishes. The Caddy turned towards them instead of the other way.

"Shit. You'd better get inside." He checked his rifle to make sure that he had a full magazine, then slowly strode towards the street. He kept his eyes on the Cadillac, even as the motorcycles pulled in  around him. He knew where the leader of this group would be.

Four SUVs, two pickup trucks, and one short school bus all pulled into the parking lot, and straight towards the gas pumps. That was a relief. Maybe they just needed gas and would move on once they got it.

"Alex?" A familiar voice called from the convoy, "Alex is that you?"

A childlike figure jumped out of the lead SUV and began running towards him. They pulled up sharply when his rifle came down, pointed at them.

"Alex?"

In Afghanistan they had sometimes strapped suicide bombs to children, then sent them running for help towards the US troops. He had lost two good friends to one such attack.

":Alex, it's me. Alisha. Don't you remember me?"

"Alisha? What are you doing here?"

"We're heading west. If they're in Western Kansas, then there's nowhere safe. Can you please lower your gun?"

He looked at the rifle in his hands as if he hadn't realized that he was holding it. "Sorry," he raised the barrel, but did not put it away.

"That's okay," she ran to him and threw herself at him, hugging him close. "Don't trust Gareth," she whispered into his ear.

Well, well, what have we here," said a man that got out of the passenger's seat of the Cadillac.

"That's him," she whispered, then released him and dropped to the ground. "This is my friend, Alex," she told Gareth.

"Alex. Good to meet you, friend."

Gareth was tall and husky, with a broad-brimmed black Stetson on his head. His cowboy boots looked like snake skin, and he walked with an arrogant swagger that Alex had come to associate with liquid courage. Behind him people were dismounting from the vehicles and wandering into the store or filling the vehicles up with gas.

"Gareth," Alex nodded in greeting. He noticed a Colt .45 revolver on Gareth's hip.

"What is this? Shootout at the O.K. Corral?" he grinned toothily, "Come on, partner."

"I don't think so."

Gareth gave him an appraising look, then asked, "how many people you got with ya?"

"Enough."

"Why don't you just lay that rifle down and join my flock?"

Alex's gaze flickered to the group forming behind the arrogant cowboy. Several of them had rifles or shotguns, and a few had pistols, though none of them were pointed at him. Yet.

In that half-second that his attention was elsewhere, Gareth went for his gun. Apparently is was the shootout at the OK Corral. 

Before he could bring the pistol to bear, a gunshot rang out. Gareth's head disappeared in a spray of blood and brains, and he fell sideways in an expanding pool of blood. 

"Anybody else?" JJ asked, advancing on the group from the side, rifle ready, as was Alex's now.

There was much head-shaking to one degree or another, and many hands raised above heads. Most of them had taken a step backwards in a subconscious sign of fear.

"Get your gas and leave," Alex told them, "and leave some money on the counter."

"Really?" JJ asked, "again with the 'moral imperative'?"

"I'm staying with you," Alisha said, clinging to his arm, staring at the headless corpse in horror. 

"Hey, can I join your crew?" a large black man asked, unarmed except for a pistol in his belt.

"He's a good guy," Alisha confirmed, "not like those other bastards."

"Okay then," Alex said, "Welcome. But you fuck us and I will end you."

"Message received," he nodded, shaking hands with him.

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