Free Martial Law by Bobby Akart

gun!”
    “Abbie, stop. You are the worst protectee of all protectees.”
    “ Protectee is not a word.”
    “Umm, yes, it is.”
    “Nope.”
    “You’re breaking the rules of the shotgunner.”
    “What? No, I am not!”
    “Yes, you are. Excessive talking.”
    Abbie petulantly sat back in her seat. Drew was enjoying this.
    “ Shotgunner is not a word either,” said Abbie, folding her arms with a pout.
    She may be right about that one .
     

Chapter 16
    September 4, 2016
    3:57 a.m.
    County Road 241
    Near Lulu, Florida
     
    For miles, Drew looked for options. He hoped to see a gas can sitting in a carport or next to a tool shed. He watched for any other travelers or residents to lend a hand. But the drive along their circuitous route was mostly deserted. He had to tell Abbie.
    “Abbie, we’re only about forty miles from Camp Blanding, but I’m afraid we don’t have enough fuel. I’ve routed us towards a small town on State Highway 100 called Lulu. I don’t know if there’ll be any help for us, but we have to try.”
    “When will we run out, Drew?”
    “Very soon. I don’t think we can make it to town, so we’ll have to walk and ask for help.”
    “And if there isn’t anyone to help us?”
    “Then we walk straight down Highway 100 toward Lake Butler and hope for an alternative.”
    “That would suck.”
    “I couldn’t have said it better.” Drew chuckled.
    Drew continued several more miles until he hit the intersection of County Road 241, where he turned left towards Lulu. Just as they passed the Speed Limit 45sign, the truck sputtered and lost power. End of the road .
    Abbie spoke up first. “Well, okay then. Let the adventure continue.” Drew could tell Abbie was pretending to be in good spirits. This was not a good situation for them.
    “Let me take a quick inventory of what would be most useful to carry with us,” said Drew as the two exited the stalled vehicle.
    His first concern was shelter in the event they had to walk the entire route. They were both in good condition, but in the midst of a hurricane and without alternate transportation, the trip would take at least eight hours. Drew was comfortable they could find respite from the storm, even if it was in a barn or an outbuilding.
    Security was the next order of business. Drew carried his assigned weapon—the Sig Sauer P229. His personal weapon was a Glock 31, standard issue to his many friends in the Tennessee Highway Patrol. It used a common cartridge, the Sig .357. But he also kept in his bag a Glock 33 chambered in the same cartridge. The Glock 33 was a subcompact version. Its magazine held nine rounds. He strapped it in an ankle holster and covered it with his pant leg.
    “Abbie, we’ve talked about this before. Ordinarily, there would be no circumstance that would require you to be armed. This is an exception to that rule.”
    “You know I’m trained on the P229. My father insisted upon it.”
    “I remember. I have a backup Sig for you. I have two paddle holsters, but they won’t tuck into the waistband of your Juicy Couture tracksuit.”
    Abbie stood a little taller and somewhat indignant. “You’ll have to give me a gun, Drew.”
    “Yes. I have a shoulder holster that I’ll adjust to fit you.” Drew reached into his bag and adjusted the straps on his shoulder rig. He turned toward her to get her outfitted. “I need you to stand tall and hold your arms out.”
    Drew slipped her right arm through one side of the straps and then her left. He reached around her to adjust the padding under her arms, accidentally grazing her breasts. Abbie shivered. With both hands, Drew carefully pulled Abbie’s hair free from the shoulder straps, revealing her neck. She turned her head to expose her skin covered with goosebumps. Drew felt the attraction, and he knew Abbie wanted him to kiss her.
    But he restrained himself. He pulled her arms down to her sides, and he leaned into her ear. “Abbie, I feel it too. Let’s get out of this mess