After they parked the sedan alongside the minivan belonging to the previous victims, they rummaged through its interior looking for anything of value.  They found several hundred dollars that were nearly worthless.  The prolonged period of high inflation that had hung over the country had all but destroyed the currency.  They continued their search and found an old revolver, some ammo, food, water and a bottle of gin.  They passed the gin back and forth several times while continuing their search, before eventually giving up.  They gathered the few items of value and stuffed them into their satchels.

The imposters walked back to the highway, disgusted with their poor showings so far.  They decided they would wait for one more carload of victims, before turning in for the night.  They passed the bottle of gin around several more times, before reloading their pistols and getting back into position.  They muttered how the next one had better be worth the wait.

***

The Bronco was quiet for maybe an hour after they left Hank and the other men.  Jake was lost in his thoughts as he drove. Geram stared into the night, trying to locate any trouble before it lashed out at them.  Kate sat in the back and quietly rubbed Sasha’s head.

They drove by the light of the fog lamps, hoping the dimmer lights would be less noticeable.  Jake drove as fast as was safely possible, usually just a few miles over the speed limit.  The fog lamps greatly reduced his sight distance, but he reasoned the tradeoff for a slightly lower profile was equitable.

The drive had been uneventful. They had seen only a handful of vehicles abandoned on the side of the road and had encountered no one.  The highway was dead.  There didn’t seem to be another soul on the road.

Finally, Geram spoke. “Would you have shot them if they’d made a move on you?”

Jake thought for several moments before replying, “I don’t know.  I told them I wouldn’t have, but maybe.  It’s hard to say what you’ll do.”

“There may come a time when you have to shoot someone you don’t want to.”

“If I don’t want to shoot them, I won’t.”

“That’s not what I mean.  What I’m saying is things are grey now. Not every situation is going to be black and white, right and wrong.”

Jake replied with an annoyed tone, “Things have always been black and white.  There’re absolute rights and absolute wrongs.  There’s no such thing as a grey situation.  Relativism is partly to blame for where we are now.”

“I disagree, Jake.”

“Okay, that’s your prerogative.”

“Look, I’m sorry.  This was horrible timing. I’ve always been bad at timing.”

“I think it’s perfect timing.  Give me an example.”

Kate interrupted, “Jake, please; not now.”

“It’s alright; we’re fine.  Geram, give me an example.”

He thought for several moments before replying, “So, you’ve got this farm, okay?  You’ve done everything right; you’ve prepared at the expense of luxuries in your past life.  Your family is well taken care of, but food is still scarce.  One morning, you catch the neighbor’s kid in your garden stealing food.  What do you do?”

“I give her what I can spare.”

“You don’t have any to spare, you’re already rationing what you have.”

“Alright, I take her home and warn the family I can’t afford to spare anything, and they can’t steal from us.”

“You catch her again the next day.”

Jake sighed and said, “We take her in and we stretch what we have, even if it means adding sawdust to the flour; we make it work.  We help the father start his own garden but they’re on their own, they’re adults.”

“What if he has five children?  What if you catch the father in the garden the next day?  Do you shoot him then?”

Jake had become irritated. He growled, “Geram, anybody can keep throwing ‘what ifs’ in until you’re left with no choice.  My point is stealing, murder, whatever, it’s always wrong, no matter the circumstance; there is never justification.  As far as being on the receiving end, you help out when you can, and you pray for guidance when you can’t.  You don’t kill someone over property.  If it escalates to violence, that’s another situation.”

“If it’s property that’s keeping you alive-”

Kate intervened again, “Please, this is not the time.  We need to be a team right now.  We’ve all been under a lot of stress.  We can’t take it out on each other.”

The men did not respond.

As they rounded a sharp curve in the road, they saw two sheriff’s cars that were parked trunk to trunk across both lanes.  Jake slammed on the brakes but they were already on top of the cruisers.  Before he came to a complete stop, two deputies had already climbed out of the cruisers and were quickly approaching the Bronco.

“What do we do?” Kate exclaimed.

“It’s too late; they’re on top of us.  If I try to run now, they might open fire.  Just be ready for anything.”

The deputies split up and approached both sides of the SUV.  Geram handed his rifle back to Kate and concealed his pistol under his leg.  Jake rolled down the window and waited for the officer to approach.  He studied the cruisers and uniforms; everything looked legitimate.

Geram whispered to Jake and Kate, “Something is off here; we’re in the middle of nowhere.  We haven’t seen any traffic the entire night and these guys set up a road block?”

Jake nodded, “It doesn’t look good.  Their cruisers are blocking the entire road.  They don’t plan on letting us through.”

Geram exhaled deeply, trying to remain calm. “If you see an opportunity to get us out of this, take it.”

The first officer reached Jake’s window and was polite but stern in his greeting.  “How’s everyone tonight?”

Jake smiled and strived to project a feeling of calm confidence as he replied, “We’re fine, sir.  Is there a problem ahead?”

“License and registration please.”

Jake handed them over.  The officer studied the documents with his flashlight as he continued, “We’ve been having problems in this area with looters, Mr. Sellers.  Can you tell me your purpose for being on the road tonight?”

“We’re going to stay with some family for a while.  We’ve had the same kind of problems not far down the road.”

“I understand, not many places are safe these days.”  The officer motioned to his left, “Can I ask you to pull onto that side road so we can perform a quick, precautionary search of your vehicle before we get you on your way?  It’ll only take a minute.”

“A search for what?”

“Just for any contraband or stolen goods; it’s standard procedure.  We’ll have you folks back on the road in just a few minutes.”

“Sir, with all due respect, we’ve broken no laws and there’s nothing suspicious about us.  We’ve a long drive ahead still.  Can’t you just let us go now?”

Both officers brought their right hands to rest on their holsters.  The first officer leaned forward and spoke in a commanding tone, “That was not a request Mr. Sellers.  Pull off the highway immediately.”

Jake cursed under his breath and stared straight ahead.

“What did you say?  Alright, we’ll drag you out one by one and do the search right here.”

Both officers retrieved their pistols from their holsters and brought them up to the windows.  The first man reached into the Bronco with his free hand to grab Jake by his shirt.   As he broke the plane of the window, a vicious blur struck from the back seat. It snarled and sunk its fangs deep into the stranger’s hand.  The man screamed in pain as he fought to free his hand from Sasha.

The louder he screamed and the harder he tugged, the deeper Sasha’s fangs sunk into him.  The officer’s partner recoiled in shock.  Geram slid his pistol out from under his leg and fired his entire magazine at the man.  The man screamed at first, then tumbled backwards into the ditch.  Geram slammed another magazine into the pistol and racked the slide, calmly readying himself for a follow up exchange.