299 Days: The Collapse by Glen Tate Read Free Book Online Page A

little unusual. The wailing sirens added to the surreal environment. Grant signaled with his left hand for the car to roll down its window. He kept his right hand on his pistol, which was partially showing. Grant figured the odds of being prosecuted for brandishing were pretty low when what’s left of the police were busy fighting off protestors, and possibly rioters, three miles away at the capitol.
    The driver rolled down his window. He didn’t look fazed by the sight of a man with his hand on a holstered pistol. He was probably a gun guy who knew that Grant was not some amateur. Gun guys aren’t usually scared of other gun guys. Someone with their hand on a pistol is not something unusual to them.
    Grant used his confident, but not asshole, voice to say, “Where you headed?” He was trying to sound like a cop so the driver would assume he was and might listen more to what he told him to do.
    “Gun store,” the guy said. He kept both hands on the steering wheel, yet another signal to Grant that the driver knew what he was doing; and knew how to avoid getting shot.
    “It’s closed,” Grant said. “Try back tomorrow.” Grant stared at the driver as if to say, “Seriously.”
    “OK. Thanks,” the guy said. The driver paused and looked at Grant’s exposed pistol. “Things hairy enough out here to need a pistol, huh?” He answered his own question by saying, “I guess so. Downtown near the capitol is a frickin’ mess right now. That’s why I wanted to come get a case of ammo.”
    “You and lots of others,” Grant said. “That’s why the store is closed for a while.” Grant hated lying to people, but sometimes circumstances just called for it.
    The driver nodded and said, “Have a good evening.” He then looked at how he would get out of there. He said, “I’ll turn around up there and come out the way I came in.”
    Grant nodded. He looked over to Bobby and motioned that the SUV would go up the street, turn around and then leave. Bobby understood, gave the thumbs up, and then gave the signal to Scotty, who gave a thumbs up. Hours and hours on the range using hand signals to communicate allowed them to do this effortlessly.
    Grant didn’t want to give away the positions of his two colleagues, but he didn’t want them to shoot this guy, either. When Grant got the thumbs up from Scotty, he turned back to the driver and said, “That ought to work. Have a good evening.”
    The driver did exactly what he said he would do. The turnaround was smooth and careful. On the way back out the main entrance, the driver waved at Grant. He waved back.
    Grant was glad he didn’t get shot or have to shoot anyone. Wow. This was for real.
    He had a funny thought: How many other lawyers were doing this tonight? Actually, with all the protests and mayhem in the country, probably quite a few.
    Chip came out of the parking lot and signaled that the trucks were loaded. He pointed to Bobby first, and then motioned for him to come into the store. He signaled for Scotty and Grant to stay put. Bobby walked into the store and came out a few minutes later. He signaled for Grant to go in next. Grant put his AR on the car seat, locked the door, and walked into the store.
    Chip and Ted were inside with Wes and Pow standing guard at the door. The store was nearly empty except for accessories and cleaning supplies. There were a couple beater hunting rifles left on the wall, but no ARs or AKs. The glass pistol case was empty.
    “OK, here’s the plan,” Chip said. “Me and Ted are going to go deposit this stuff in a safe place. A place none of you know about—no offense.”
    None taken.
    Ted said, “Me and Chip can unload it by ourselves because we’ll be in a much safer place and we don’t want to keep you gentlemen here when we might have visitors.”
    That was appreciated. Besides, Grant had to get back home to start the process of convincing Lisa to go to the cabin.
    “Thanks again, guys. Really appreciate it,” Chip