Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 13

"Get out of the car!" I screamed.

They stared at the scene ahead like deer in headlights. I had to repeat myself several times for them to open their doors and jump out. I swiped the fob key on the magnetic mount and grabbed the shotgun and the AR-15. Crouching down, I went over to the back and popped the trunk.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked frantically.

"To get the weapons bag," I said.

As I peered inside, I saw the gray duffel bag just as I thought it would be. Uncle Vernon, one of my dad's longtime friends, was a veteran cop of the Portland PD. He occasionally mentioned that cops held extra ammunition and a spare gun if one either jammed or if the police needed a backup weapon against heavily armed suspects. In front of me, a half-opened duffel bag had a box of 9mm ammunition peeking from the opening.

That was good enough for me. I pulled it out of the trunk, which was heavier than I thought, and slung the bag around my back.

"How'd you know it was there?" Luke asked.

"I don't. I was hoping the cop has it," I answered. "Anyone knows how to use this thing?" I held the AR-15 up. No one raised their hands. I turned to Logan, who had his arms wrapped around a shivering Natalie. "I know your brother goes to the shooting range frequently on Facebook. I reckon you've fired a gun before?" I asked him.

Logan paled. "I--uh, do my uncle's hunting rifle count?"

I shoved the AR-15 on his hands. "Close enough. Same deal. Safety, trigger, Sight." I quickly pointed them out to him, and he nodded. "Now you know."

Natalie yelped. "Babe! Don't touch that! It's a gun!"

I rolled my eyes. "This is no time for some anti-gun, PC shit, Nat. I need all the hands I can get."

That shut her up, but she never steered her glare away from me. Logan muttered something on his belt, and he eyed me the same way, but he kept the rifle gripped in his hands.

"What do we do now?" Screamed Aria, frightened as she gaped at the oncoming crowd.

"How'd they get here so fast?" Carson yelped.

"I don't think it's just the Upper West Side that got affected. I think it's the entire city!" Yousef said.

"It doesn't matter now. We have to get out of here!" I said.

 I caught Joe's car in the pileup at the corner of my eyes, and I panicked. Oh no! Joe!

But the man clamored out from the other side, carrying Daniel in his arms, and I was glad to see that they didn't have any bruises or a scratch on them. He had a backpack with him, and as we saw each other, he ran up toward me.

His eyes landed on the shotgun on my hand. "You know how to use that thing?"

I nodded.

"We have to get out of the streets," he said.

"Yeah, do you have a place in mind?"

He thought about it for a second before he nodded. "Like I said, my cousin's. It's not far from here. Or I might've messed up my--"

"Don't care. Just lead the way," I said, keeping my eye on the intersection ahead.

We ran up to Bobby's car. All of his doors got pinned by the cars around him, and we had to pull him out through his broken window. Some of the glass scraped his skin, but he crawled out of his car, albeit a bit rattled and bruised up.

"Are those them?" he asked me.

"No time for sightseeing. Just follow Joe," I said.

"Logan, cover the front and Joe. He'll lead us to his cousin's apartment. I'll cover the back," I told him.