Читать книгу The Macro Event - Andrew Adams - Страница 12

Chapter 6

0030, Day 1, Railroad Tracks Near Downtown Las Vegas

After the few minutes of rest and reflection, Lee started back down the railroad tracks. Staying to the side of the track and in the shadows, he stayed alert in case the druggies were stupid enough to come looking for him. Lee thought it doubtful; however, the two cowards even came back for their friend. The unlucky drug addict may have bled out from his wounds or would before getting medical help. Lee had some remorse, but right now he could not worry about it. Maybe it would hit him later, but the important thing right now was to keep moving out of town. His family and his home were the reasons driving him now.

Lee walked under several overpasses without issue including the Interstate 15 freeway. At Tropicana, the tracks went over the roads. He did not like the extra exposure, on the overpasses, but he pressed on cautiously. When he reached Hacienda Avenue, it changed back to an underpass, making him relax. But as he approached, he could make out dozens of people on the bridge ahead. He stopped and studied the scene on the overpass for a bit. Too many people had a vantage point on the bridge, where they would probably see him moving by. He looked around and saw that to the west was a large empty field. It was a clear dirt field, but the moonlight would surely expose him. Lee wanted to move southwest, but to do so, he would need to backtrack. To the east, industrial buildings bordered the tracks, and Lee could see a gap between two large buildings. He decided to divert down the trail between buildings. The trail ended at a road, which also headed south under Hacienda. So once again, Lee moved further east into the industrial area. Once he hit Valley View Boulevard, he turned back south across Hacienda, keeping to the west side of the street as much as possible. He tried to stay within the shadows cast by the moon, which was moving closer to the western horizon. Lee continued on Valley View toward Russell Road.

Somewhere after crossing Russell, Lee was approaching an intersection when he saw someone ahead. The dark shadow of a person was moving along the cross street ahead. As Lee tracked him, he made the turn onto Valley View Boulevard and headed south, the same direction as Lee. He came out of the shadow as he turned the corner. In the moonlight, Lee could tell the man was of medium build and height and in good shape. His backpack was smaller, and he was moving faster than Lee. Lee thought he might be someone from the military or a real health nut. He just had that look and was moving like a soldier. As the man turned the corner, he glanced over and spotted Lee. The two were diagonally opposite at the intersection. Lee suddenly realized he too had moved into the moonlight, disclosing himself to the other man. So Lee simply raised his hand in a “Hey there” gesture. The man did not appear as a threat, and he gestured back and kept moving. Lee followed, remaining on the opposite side of the street. The man was gaining distance quickly, convincing Lee he must be active or ex-military. Therefore, Lee gave him the mental name of “Cap” (for Captain) as a way of identifying the man in his mind.

As much as Lee tried keeping up with the man—or Cap, as Lee now kept thinking of him—he was moving too fast. The guy was younger and in much better shape, and with the smaller pack and load, he increased the distance between them as the two moved along Valley View Boulevard.

After a few minutes, Cap was a good block and a half ahead. Suddenly the street lit up. The lights startled Lee. His first thought was the power came on. Quickly, he realized the bright lights were the headlights of a car sitting in the middle of the street near the Captain. Lee moved closer to the right side of the street and deeper into the shadows. Cap was lit up brightly by the lights as he stood midway across the street. Seemingly, the car had occupants, and when Cap walked by, they had turned on the lights. Two figures exited the car from the sides and walked to the front, facing Cap. Cap had turned around, facing the headlamps.

Three other men appeared from the left side of the street and moved behind Cap. He twisted slightly and backed away from the three men approaching from his right rear. Lee was close enough to make out angry voices, sensing immediately this was not good. He continued to move forward slowly and as stealthily as possible, staying in the shadow and using parked cars and bushes to hide his approach.

When Lee had moved to within a half of a block, he started consider that he should divert around what was starting to look like a one-sided confrontation. He did not know these people. Why risk his own exodus from Vegas by jumping into this mess? He was now close enough to hear the conversation and make out words, so he listened as he slid down behind a parked car. With bright headlights facing away from Lee, spotting him would be difficult if not impossible. The lights would be blinding to the men facing them.

Straining to listen, Lee could make out the various people confronting the Captain. One of the men at the front of the car was a tall, skinny black man around thirty years old. Next to him was a shorter figure Lee could tell was an overweight black woman. All three of the figures behind the Captain were skinny young blacks. Lee guessed them to be early twenties or maybe even teenagers. One was very tall, the two others slightly shorter. The three were wearing baggy pants hanging below their butts, high-top athletic shoes, layers of various bright-colored shirts, and ball caps at odd angles. Everybody appeared nervous as they inched their way toward Cap. One man behind Cap was holding a club or bat. Another had a medium-sized knife that he was flipping around in his right hand. The sagging pants forced the three idiots to keep one hand on their waistbands to keep from losing the ugly shorts as they approached the Cap. Otherwise, they would probably trip and fall to the ground. What a bunch of dipshits, Lee thought.

“So just what in fuck you doing in our hood man?” The tall man at the front of the car spoke out in a heavy ghetto slur.

“Just passing by. I mean you no harm,” replied Cap.

“This hood is my hood cracker man. Me and my woman here was just getting down with things you know. Then you, out-of-place white boy, comes strolling along and ruined our mood. And what’s you got in your army bag?”

“Like I said, I mean you no harm. I will be on my way now,” Cap said as he started to back across the street, expertly keeping all five men in front of him.

“Well, if you’z gunna be unsociable like man, then perhaps we just gunna take what you gots,” the tall man at the car said as he reached behind his back and pulled out a large shiny silver pistol.

The thug pointed the gaudy pistol at the Captain and continued, “Now I asked nicely, but howz ’bouts you just drop that bag down. If you’z lucky, maybe I will not pop a cap in you’z dumb-ass cracker head…muthafucker.”

The skinny dipshit held the gun sideways like the movies, so Lee mentally gave him the name of “Hollywood.”

Cap froze and put his hands forward in a nonthreatening manner. “Okay now, man, just calm down. If you want this bag so bad, you can fucking have it. It is just my dirty laundry.”

Lee was having bad visions of how this would likely play out. He figured this was going to get ugly fast. He doubted they would let the Captain go unharmed. In fact, Lee was certain they would probably shoot him regardless. Therefore, he slowly crouched down and moved slowly and quietly along the parked cars. He made his way around two cars getting closer to the confrontation going on in the street. He slinked up behind the trunk of a parked car and drew the 9 mm. He considered removing his pack but did not want to risk losing it. Keeping the bag on, he felt for the extra mags in his left pocket, making sure they would be easy to retrieve.

As the Captain slowly removed his pack an ugly blathering of racist and slang words came from the five thugs. The assholes were talking shit now as Cap surrendered the pack. While removing the pack, he had continued moving slowly back from the three younger idiots. Lee guessed the Cap was hoping to drop the pack and haul ass. The Captain probably decided it was better to be alive without anything versus just plain dead.

As Cap slid off the pack and set it down, Lee positioned the 9 mm on the trunk of the car and steadied it with a two-handed pistol grip. Hollywood was twenty-five to thirty yards away, making for a difficult shot for the little Ruger LC-9. Nevertheless, Lee figured he had to try. Lee hoped if he could get off a few shots, the idiots may all run like the druggies on the railroad tracks. If the group all started running from the gunfire, Cap might just get away without getting shot. Lee hoped with the car as a shield plus Hollywood, not knowing how to aim a pistol would give him an advantage. At least for several seconds. Lee steadied the gun and aimed it at the side of Hollywood’s head. Knowing the LC-9 trigger pull was a foot long, Lee made a mental note to squeeze the trigger. Don’t jerk it.

Cap was still slowly trying to move away, but just then Hollywood said, “Where you fucking going, man? We aint’z done with you’z honky chicken shit gleaming white ass yet.”

“Say goodbye, fucker.” Hollywood lifted the silver pistol up directly at Cap.

Hollywood was going to shoot, so Lee held his breath and squeezed the trigger on the little 9 mm. His grip was steady on the trunk lid, and the iron sights of the pistol lined up with the side of Hollywood’s head. However, just as the trigger snapped and the pistol went off; the fat, ugly woman moved forward and into the line of fire. That was her shitty luck as the round was already heading down range. Blood and screams erupted. The round removed most of the fat woman’s nose off her fat round face as it flew by at high speed. Not hitting a major bone on the woman’s face, the bullet continued straight, hitting Hollywood right below his right ear. His head flew sideways as the gun dropped from his hand, and he slumped over headed for the asphalt. Lee squeezed off another round in the same direction, hitting Hollywood again as he slumped to the ground. The fat woman fell back against the front of the car blocking one of the headlights while screaming like hell and holding her now noseless face. Lee slid the gun quickly right and lined up the sights on the closest of the other three thugs. As soon as the sights of the small gun lined up, he squeezed off two quick rounds and that asshole dropped to the ground.

The remaining two men were too close to the Captain for Lee to safely take a shot. It did not matter. When his first shot had gone off, the three had frozen in place, not understanding what had just happen to their dipshit leader. Cap reacted quickly moved forward, grabbing the arm of the club-wielding thug and yanking him forward and past. Expertly, Cap pulled the arm back and around thrusting it up behind the man. The shocked idiot screamed out in pain from the probable dislocated or broken shoulder. The last man did not wait around. He turned and ran like a running back of the NFL and headed into a large parking lot of a store.

Hollywood was lying motionless and did not appear to be breathing. Lee assumed he was dead. The woman was screaming like a banshee, and blood was spurting from her face like a showerhead. Lee ran from behind the car heading toward Cap. Cap looked at Lee holding the 9 mm and the two throbbing jerks lying at his feet. He realized this stranger had intervened just in time. Lee moved close to the screaming woman and Hollywood. The side of his head was a mess, and a large pool of blood was forming. The low-life bully would not threaten anyone again. Lee reached down, picked up the chrome pistol, and moved toward the Captain.

“Thanks, man. I think you saved my ass,” the Captain said.

“No problem. These crap sacks were already assholes. But they decided to become super assholes because the shit has hit the fan,” Lee replied.

Cap reached out his hand to shake the savior’s hand, but instead Lee handed him the ghetto pistol and said, “Take this. I assume you know how to use it.”

“Shit, yes,” Cap said.

Cap examined the semiautomatic pistol pulling back the slide to see if a round was in the chamber. Then popping out the mag, he examined it to find it had a full fifteen rounds. This meant Hollywood never got off a shot.

“Nine millimeter,” said Cap.

“That is lucky, same as mine,” Lee replied.

Lee and the Captain heard a commotion from the store parking lot the thug had run to. Loud shouting was coming from a large group of people who were gathering. The crowd was building and starting to move toward Lee and Cap. The woman on the ground had quieted some as shock set in, but she stirred as she heard her fellow losers heading over.

“We best get the fuck out of dodge,” Lee said while turning and heading down the street.

“Agreed,” Cap said, as he scooped up his pack and took off alongside Lee.

They heard the loud voices from the approaching crowd. “Those mothas killed YZ.”

“Let’s go fuck them up,” another from the mob chimed in.

The angry yells and screams started rolling together, but nothing sounded good.

Cap and Lee were double-timing west down the cross street. Lee’s age was quickly becoming a hinder to the younger and faster man. He was too old for running at speed for long with sixty pounds of gear. Cap was starting to pull ahead, but he slowed, and then reaching back, grabbed Lee’s chest strap, helping to pull him along. They continued running down a long block, making a left turn on the next cross street. At the next corner, they turned to the right and across the street, heading toward a row of industrial buildings. Looking back as they made the corner, they could see about ten people, including a couple of people on bicycles chasing them.

Lee and the Captain ran along past several buildings. They were crossing a driveway between two large buildings leading to the back parking lot. A large chain link gate was open slightly. Cap stopped abruptly and pointed. “This way.”

The two men slid through the gate, and Cap closed it behind them. Cap stopped and wrapped the lock chain around the two gateposts. He hoped this would fool the chasing thugs into believing the gate was locked. Lee had already started down the driveway, and Cap closed the distance behind him. As they ran between the buildings, they could see flashlights bouncing off buildings in the street and shouting at the mob as they kept up the pursuit.

Making it to the rear parking lot, Lee and Cap slowed as they came to a tall brick wall, running along behind all the rear lots. Cap hesitated, and then seeing a dumpster against the wall, he pointed and led Lee in that direction. Cap obviously had a plan, and he was taking Lee along.

“On the dumpster and over the wall,” Cap said to Lee.

Cap jumped up on the lid, turned, and reached out helping Lee do the same. With the pack on Lee would have a tough time trying to climb on top, but Cap grabbed the pack and, with a swift pull, just reeled Lee up alongside him on the lids. They both moved toward the brick wall and looked over. The wall separated the lot from a large dirt field. The drop was about eight feet. Both men swung over the wall. Cap landed first turned and slowed down Lee’s fall as he plummeted down rapidly with the heavy pack.

Standing against the wall, the men looked around the barren field to assess their choices.

Lee spoke first. “It is getting light out. If we head across this field, we will be in the open.”

Cap replied, “Let’s stay near the wall then keep moving along as far as we can. We will be harder to spot.”

Without further discussion, the Cap, followed by Lee moved along the wall to their right. They slowly and quietly moved about a block. The wall ended and a small side street crossed in front of them. The wall stopped twenty yards short of the street. Shrubs bordered the field to the edge of the street creating a visual wall. Both men moved forward, keeping below the bushes. The men knew the crossroad fifty yards right of them was the same road they had left when ducking between the buildings. As they watched the mob entered the intersection, meaning the phony lock on the gate must have worked. People were yelling and pointing of flashlights in all directions. Obviously, the thugs wanted to find the men who had killed their fellow crap sacks. Daylight was coming rapidly now. Lee and Cap stayed low and hidden behind the thick bushes. Alternatively, they could retreat to the wall, but that seemed like a bad idea.

After much pointing and yelling, the two thugs on bicycles turned and headed down the street in Lee and Cap’s direction. Someone had thought about looking behind the buildings. The two bike riders came down the street, looking toward the bushes where the two men were hiding.

Without any discussion or warning, the Captain sprung from his crouch and ran along the bushes just as the first rider was passing an abandoned car near the curb. The hood was still up and this offered Cap some shielding as he sprinted at full speed toward the bike and rider. He hit the stunned rider with the force of a bus. Cap lifted the surprised thug right off the bike and, using his weight and momentum, tossed the small teenager through the air for about twenty-feet. The shocked kid skidded on his face and hands and rolled into a pile. With rider gone, the bike to continue rolling upright for about thirty feet and fell over against the curb.

The next biker had no time to react to the surprise attacker. He tried desperately to stop or steer around. He stopped just short of the captain. That was a bad mistake. Cap reached over the handlebars, yanked the stunned teen up and over, slamming him into the pavement with a sickening thud.

Lee had followed out behind Cap. As Cap was body slamming the second man, he moved over to the first just as the stunned teenager tried to stand up. Lee did a running drop kick on the side of the kid’s head, knocking him over and out.

“Grab the other bike.” Cap said while staring to mount the one he had just abruptly stopped.

Without answering, Lee ran down the street pulled the first bike from the curb, and climbed on. Both he and the Cap started pedaling and gaining control of the bikes. Several shots rang out from the intersection. They did not look back. They just pedaled as quickly as possible, hoping the rest of the hood had nothing but pistols and not any more bikes. Lee and Cap rode down the street heading southwest and turned the corner to the right on what Lee guessed was Sunset Street.

When they got close to Decatur, Lee yelled forward at Cap, “Turn left.”

Cap waved and complied, and they both made the turn south on Decatur, heading toward the 215 overpass. The number of people outside kept increasing as they rode. Some were standing around dead cars. People were walking solo, or in groups of two, three, or more. With no wish to stop for any purpose, Lee and Cap kept up their speed and momentum. The light made everything visible now. As they cycled out of the 215 overpass, one man from a group of three moved into the street toward their path. Cap did not veer. Instead, he pulled the large chrome pistol up in his right hand and pointed it at the man, heading toward him and Lee. The surprised man stopped dead in his tracks and then stepped back, raising his hands as he did. Cap, with Lee following, cruised by not slowing or looking back. The man yelled some obscenities at the bikers but did nothing else.

As they rode, the two men occasionally looked over to their right, where they could see a huge column of smoke. A massive fire was out of control and growing rapidly. Lee remembered there was a large mall west on the 215 a couple of exits; he guessed that it was burning. This probably meant that more assholes like the ones that they had just faced were taking advantage of the dire state the city was in, looting and burning buildings as they went. Lee wondered what drove thugs and looters to burn down stores and buildings after stealing and looting anything of value?

The two men kept riding silently for a couple more miles, occasionally looking back. They started to enter residential subdivisions and now saw dozens of people out, mostly talking in groups. However, Decatur remained clear of people and abandoned cars. The ride was starting to wear down Lee exhausting him. He started falling back. Picking a place along the road, bordered large fields on both sides, the Captain rolled off the pavement into the dirt field on the right. They both dismounted the bikes and, for the first time, had a chance to talk and formally meet.

Cap held out his hand. “Jake Rodriguez. I can’t thank you enough for what you did back there.”

“Lee Garrett, not a problem. Those shit bags deserved what they got,” Lee said, returning the hardy but now sweaty handshake, thinking he now had a real name for the Captain.

“No argument with me. I am sure glad you came along. I spotted you behind the car but was not sure what you had planned. Sure thankful you were armed. You seem to have everything, including the kitchen sink. Geez, that is a huge pack!” Jake said.

Lee explained, “Yeah I am one of those nutcase preppers. I carry this crap with me all the time, but I sure wish I had brought along an AR. I didn’t think those thugs were going to let you walk away. You look like military?”

Jake replied, “Good guess. Actually, it is Sergeant Rodriguez, 11th Armored Cavalry out of Fort Irwin. I am not a captain as you have been calling me. I work for a living. I was in Vegas just for a couple of days of fun and excitement. I got more excitement than I had planned. I think something big has hit the fan. Might be world war three. What about you? You seem to know what you are doing around guns, and the way you pack looks military to me.”

Lee continued his introduction, “No, just a military buff. I do work with the DOD on military projects. Stuff like pyro and special effects for training centers. I did some stuff for Fort Irwin a few years back for one of the MOUTs.” Lee assumed the soldier would know the terms DOD for Department of Defense and that a MOUT was a training center resembling a real town.

“No shit. Well, you move well for an old dude who is not a vet. What do you think happened?” Jake asked.

Lee answered, “My guess is the US has been attacked with nuclear weapons. The power outage and the cars being damaged had to be an EMP. An EMP is the only thing that explains it. There was some talk of a nuke from people in the casino, and I heard the TVs went to the emergency broadcast signal just before the power quit. I hit the bricks as soon as the shit storm started.”

Jake replied, “I was at the Luxor playing craps in the casino when the lights went out. I guess you can call that crapping out. Took me a while to get to my room and jimmy the door open. I grabbed my bag and decided it was best to get out of Dodge. People were already fighting in the casino, and it was getting real fucking scary. I figured I’d be needed back at base if World War III has started.”

“So where are you heading now, Jake?” Lee asked.

“One of the civilian employees from the base lives in Sandy Valley. He lives there with his wife. I visited them a couple of times on weekends. I am hoping he was home. I figure to head there and see if he and I can figure out a way back to Fort Irwin. As I said, I had better get back to base. What is your plan?” Jake said.

“I live in a small town called Agua Dulce, near Valencia. Have you ever heard of it?” Lee asked.

Jake nodded and said. “Yeah, I do. It is by those funny looking rocks along the 14 freeway south of Palmdale. I had a buddy whose parents lived there. I went a couple of times and did some horseback riding. They had a nice ranch with horses and other livestock.”

Lee continued, “Exactly right. Lots of horse property and large spreads. I have five acres, but not any horses. I do have a shit pile full of prepper stuff. Getting back home is my goal. Funny, however, is that I have planned for this event just in case and my plan included heading to Irwin as a stopping point. I figure the 15 freeway is a death trap. The people on the roads are stuck, out of food, water, and most Americans are too fat to walk a mile let alone twenty or thirty. They will look at our bags like a Wal-Mart. I am not going near the freeway. I have planned to use the power lines roads that run from north of Stateline near Sandy Valley due west and pass along near Irwin and on to Barstow. The power line road is a straighter shot than the freeway, although it is dirt and probably goes up and down hills a lot.”

Jake looked amazed. “You have this planned out in advance?”

“I always say better to make a plan and not need it than need a plan and not have one. I have the route all scoped out and loaded on a Garmin. I also have satellite images of the entire route on a Samsung tablet. As I said, I am one of those nutcase preppers. I am smart enough not to plaster my face and house on that TV show. That would just let all the lazy shits in town know where I am and what I have,” Lee said.

“Man, you are prepared,” Jake said with wonder and followed with, “All I have is a road map I got at a gas station on the way out of town. What was your plan for transportation?”

“Well, I have a few ideas floating around, including construction equipment, such as utility carts, front loaders, or even off-road type forklifts. I plan to look for whatever mode of transport might still be running. I figure most diesels should still be running. Maybe not one of the newer ones in passenger cars like the VWs or Ford Trucks. They rely too much on electronics. Another alternative I was thinking of was a bike. Well, thanks to those scumbags back there who loaned us these. By the way, these look brand-new,” Lee said as he reached over and found a price tag hanging on the one he was riding.

Jake laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think they need them anymore. Thankfully, they look like decent mountain bikes. I bet they busted into a bike store ten minutes after the power went out. They being scumbag assholes is lucky for us now.”

Lee pulled out the Samsung and showed Jake the Google Hybrid map images he had painstakingly stored on the device. The maps were by areas, on removable Micro SD cards. After showing Jake the tablet the two of them compared notes on water and food. Lee had a large stash of food and a few gallons of water. Jake had six one-liter bottles and a bunch of snacks and fast food that he paid cash for at the same store he got the map.

Jake explained, “I’m was lucky to have a lot of cash. I had been doing well in the casino and cashed out a bunch of chips an hour before the power went out. The convenience store was about to be overrun. Most people did not have cash they were pissed off because the owner would not give them credit or pass stuff out free. It looked to me like a group of young thugs was getting ready to rush the place when I left.”

They decided their chance meeting was a great break for both of them. Jake offered to carry some of the extra load Lee had. That was a blessing for Lee. He started by giving Jake one of the half-gallon jugs of water. Lee gave Jake one of the twenty-five round boxes of 9 mm so he would have extra rounds if they ran into further trouble. Lee had two large knives, so he gave Jake one with a belt holster.

As the two of them looked over the map, Lee pointed out the dirt road that turned off state Highway 160 to Goodsprings. Lee thought it would be safer and shorter than following Highway 160 around to the north. The paved road would be easier but longer. The route they would take would be a dirt road, but Lee guessed the dirt would be hard packed and suitable for the bikes. Both bikes were heavy-duty style mountain type. With the fat tires and fifteen speeds, the bikes would work well except in deep sand or steep hills. The two new friends agreed riding the bikes most of the time beat walking all the time. From Goodsprings, they would continue west toward Sandy Valley. The only worry Lee had about the planned route was they would first have an eight-mile ride north on Highway-160, a major road that headed from the southern part of Vegas to Pahrump.

The men looked to the east to see the sun coming up over Vegas. They could see no fewer than thirty large dark columns of smoke. As they watched, new columns started. Jake said, “Well, it looks like all the zombies are out rioting and looting.” The two agreed, getting out of Vegas was the right call.

They mutually decided to take a short break and suck down some water-and-energy-drink mix and eat some of the snacks and power bars before mounting back on the bikes. Lee dug into his bag and pulled out two small handheld radios with headsets. He checked the power, frequency, and then attached the throat microphones and handed one to Jake.

Lee said, “They are not as good as military or police stuff. But they are definitely better than those cheap GMRS radios that you can get at the sporting goods stores with those bogus claims of thirty-mile range. Those radios are lucky to reach thirty yards.”

Lee explained the operation of the radios to Jake. “I have the frequencies preprogrammed into the radios. They have a low power and high-power setting.” Lee pressed the keypad and other buttons, setting the A frequency for low power on a channel. Then he set the B frequency for the same channel but high power. “While up close, we use the lower power to keep discreet. They have privacy codes, but it might be best to remain discreet. If we get separated by distance or obstacles, switch to the higher frequency.”

Lee then explained the other frequencies and how he based the numbers on months. “For example, January was 1, February 2 and so on. If you want to change frequencies, use any hint to signal a new month for example, go to Independence Day. That would mean switching to July or frequency 7. The privacy codes for each month are the month plus 10. So, frequency 7 uses a privacy code of 17.” The starting frequency that Lee set on the radios was March or 3, with a privacy code of 13.

Lee replaced the short antennas with longer ones and put on a throat microphone. He showed the separate push to talk buttons on the throat mic then tested the radio with Jake responding on his own. Jake did the same. Both radios and microphones worked loud and clear. Lee gave Jake an extra battery pack. Lee had a pouch on his utility pack for his radio. He had an extra small utility bag hanging on his backpack shoulder strap. Lee undid the small pouch, and they rigged it to Jake’s bag to hold his radio. Now the men could talk while riding.