Judgment Day -03 by Arthur Bradley

alone or as part of a larger force? While Nakai would have liked to know the answers, he needed none of them. He had learned a long time ago that surviving combat starts and ends with killing the enemy. Everything else was noise.
    His first thought had been that General Hood had betrayed him, setting up him and his men to take the fall for the chemical attack. However, after consideration, he realized that it simply didn’t add up. For one thing, Hood would have sent a more formidable attack force. Also, he wouldn’t have resorted to primitive techniques to stop the convoy.
    This enemy, while limited in his capabilities, seemed driven by a personal vendetta. The most reasonable conclusion was that he was a marshal who had somehow managed to escape the gas attack. Perhaps he had been outside the center gathering supplies or conducting some other course of business. Unfortunately, men with revenge in their hearts were often even more dangerous than professional killers.
    A car’s headlights suddenly lit up the dark from the bottom of the off-ramp. Nakai and the other soldiers instantly turned their weapons in its direction. The car was easily five hundred yards away and didn’t appear to be moving. It was just sitting there, facing up the ramp from the small town of Richmond Hill.
    Jeb appeared from around one of the tractor-trailers. He was carrying his AK-47 and had donned a black bulletproof vest.
    “The bridge is as clear as its going to get,” he said. “We’ll sweep it one more time in the morning to make sure that nothing new has been introduced.”
    Nakai nodded, not taking his eyes off the distant headlights.
    “What do you make of that?” he asked.
    “It’s probably the bastard who’s been causing us all this trouble.”
    “Perhaps,” Nakai mused, “But why announce himself?”
    Jeb thought for a moment.
    “Maybe he wants to meet. A parlay of sorts to talk things out.”
    “What about you? Would you like to get a good look at this man?”
    “What I’d really like to do is put my knife in his eye,” Jeb said, sliding his hand down to the pommel of his twelve-inch Kukri machete.
    Nakai considered his next move carefully. They were probably not in any direct danger while in a defensive position, but only a fool ignored a determined enemy. The longer he delayed dealing with him, the more damage they would be forced to endure.
    “Let’s you and I go hunting.”
     
     
    When the headlights first flashed on, Mason was bent over, scuttling across the interstate with Bowie at his side. He immediately pulled the dog behind a nearby car, squatted down, and waited. When nothing happened, he peeked out and saw that a single set of high-beams were shining up the off-ramp. It wasn’t the mercenaries. They were as surprised as he was, turning all their guns in the car’s direction. Who then? The townspeople of Richmond Hill? Some other threat? Whoever it was, they were drawing the attention of a dangerous group of men, and for that, he was thankful. It should make it easier for him to get his supplies and sabotage one or more of the tractor-trailers.
    He shuffled forward, carefully climbed over the median, and dashed across to the cover of trees on the opposite side of the interstate. Bowie stayed close by his side, moving as quietly as his size allowed. When Mason got to the tree line, he turned and hurried to the on-ramp located a couple of hundred yards past the overpass. Unlike the off-ramp, the single lane exit was quiet and dark, with only the occasional squeak emerging from the mash-up of abandoned cars, as they slowly settled against one another.
    Mason started to step out from the trees when Bowie crossed in front of him and let out a low warning growl. He squatted down and laid his hand on the dog’s side. There was a persistent rumble deep in its chest.
    “What is it, boy?” he whispered.
    Bowie stood very still, staring off into the night.
    Mason followed the dog’s stare down the long stretch