Free Unrest by Nathaniel Reed Page B

ones doing the hunting though.”
                  “It will probably come in handy,” Kamara said.

 
    “Maybe you shouldn’t just dismiss him out of hand like that.”
                  “You’re right,” Marina said. “I’ll wait to see what the kid can do.”
                  The other three arrived.
                  “Boy, are we glad to see you guys,” Xinga said.               Samir smiled. “Good to see you too.” He looked around. “Where’s Lupe?”
                  “Home with her family,” Kamara said, a bit sadly.
                  “I see.”
                  “Are you okay?” Jomo asked Samir. Everyone could tell something was off.
                  “No. I had to kill...” He stopped and corrected himself. “My friends here killed my parents because they turned into those things.”
                  “And my girlfriend,” Ian said.
                  “Jesus,” Marina said.
                  “And my wife is very much alive, but has gone on without me to see her parents,” Klaus said.
                  “I hear ya,” Kamara said.
                  “We are quite sorry for your losses,” Jomo said.
                  They told the three of them about what they’d seen on the news, and how it was affecting many areas, not just Atlanta.              
                  “We need you guys to help us get our van back,” Marina said, “And Kamara’s car. To get Jomo’s family. And we need to get something to break into these cases so we have weapons to defend ourselves.”
                  “No more T-squares and rulers?” Ian said.
                  “Exactly.”
                  They went through the adjoining rooms to look for objects that might open the cases. Samir found a heavy polished rock that was some sort of piece of abstract art he didn’t understand. It lay on the floor in an exhibit surrounded only by black bands and tension rods with large metal disk bases. It took both Samir and Klaus to lift it.
                  The wall displays did not set off alarms but the
    cubes on the floor did.
                  They took turns picking up and smashing displays with the rock between two of them and grabbing what they could, although it was obvious each had a preference.
                  Xinga lifted a pair of batons that came to a sharp point and almost looked like knives except for the two curved prongs extending from the handle.
                  “What are those?” Ian asked.
                  “They are Sai,” Xinga said.
                  “Do you know how to use them?”
                  “Yes, I used to practice with them in my country.” She demonstrated by twirling them between her fingers, thrusting and parrying. She was pretty good.
                  “Wow, we got ourselves a little martial artist here,” Ian announced. He went and picked out a spiked mace. It had a large wooden handle, and the spiked ball achieved both his desire to bash and to stab. It also had a long loop leather band coming out from the handle for swinging. “Perfect!” he said.
                  Jomo found a hefty spear in one of the display cases and instantly began to practice thrust the air.
    Marina settled for a machete from some indigenous tribe of Native American farmers until she could slice her way home. Kamara removed a two bladed traditional Viking battleaxe, while Klaus lifted a medieval era sword, grinning widely. Samir was eyeing an 1861 Civil War musket.
                  “You ever used one of those?” Marina asked.
                  “No, but my father was in the Indian army and I’ve seen him use it.”
                  “I