Write about: the standoff.
Since they've been on my mind a lot lately, I figured it was time to revisit The Gang - except this time, the story is moving forward.
I did a whole lot of weeding today. I finished the second row of strawberries and a row of onions this morning, then went out again after dinner to clean up around most of our broccoli plants (which are still putting out healthy looking side shoots) and some of our leeks.
My wrists and fingers and forearms ache right now. So I'll get right to the prompt.
"We can't let them look inside the van." Crystal didn't shift in her seat beside me but somehow she still seemed to be closer to the gun taped to the underside of her cushion.
"I'm sure she's not going to offer them an invitation to join us in here," Tammy said when I remained silent. There were only two more vehicles ahead of us in the line at the roadblock by then - a pickup truck with an extended cab and a four door sedan filled to bursting with a family of three and their dog.
"If they come in, we're done." Crystal glanced back at Tammy before returning her attention to me. "Done, okay?"
"What do you want her to do? Run over some innocent cops just to be on the safe side? The whole country would be after us then, and they would be shooting first and asking questions never!"
"Keep your voice down!" Crystal hissed. "We don't have to run anybody over. There's space right there to get through." She tilted her chin toward a gap between two of the cruisers blocking the highway. "We'd only need that one guy to jump out of the way."
"And if he doesn't?" Tammy sounded like she was about to break a tooth the way she was working that piece of gum in her mouth. "Or if he's too slow? Or if he just starts shooting instead?"
I kept quiet, considering our options. There seemed to be a definite lack of good ones. Everything appeared to lead either to jail or the morgue, sooner or later.
"We run the roadblock, we stand a chance." There was only the sedan between us and the front of the line. "We take our chances with these guys and we're sitting ducks."
"We talk to them, we get through without drawing their suspicion, we're free and clear to the border." Tammy was trying to remain calm and failing miserably. "We blast through here and they'll have a description of the van, probably even our plate number, and, by this point, I'm sure they've had a good look at each of us!"
"Voice. Down. Tammy."
I squeezed the wheel and shifted my gaze toward the gap, then back to the waiting officers. One was talking to the driver, the other inspecting the trunk. Which was so full that items were spilling out onto the road.
"We can't run."
The officer at the back was calling for his partner's help stuffing things back in now. A grocery bag full of chips and pop upended and the two of them bent down to chase after the runaway bottles.
"We have to."
I hit the gas.