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Ch02: Finders Keepers

The rooftop was just as how they had left it. The discarded object left by the Senator’s retinue lay scattered along the rooftop and there where they left it was the discarded piece of extremely restricted military equipment.

Riley was a veteran, that was expected, but he turned out to have participated back in Iraq during the initial stages of insurgency as part of the Marine Special Operations Battalion. He had done his tour and left when it ended. Most importantly was his training in handling and field maintenance of an M134 Minigun the battalion had mounted on their Humvees.

“It’s all here. If this doesn't turn out to be enough, then we're dead men anyway.” He said after checking the weapon.

“Then I’m going to have to tell all of you that Stealing military hardware is a Federal offense and could get us landed on a jail cell with no key," Hank said

“Yeah, and if we don't, we’ll be found here dead and dried up with their last saving grace lying wasted up above them. At least if we go to prison, I’ll have a chance of getting my hands on one of these babies. No one wouldn't mind if this one happened to fell out of a truck doesn't it?” Stone said, then smiled.

"You didn't just say that in front of a cop," Hank muttered, giving Stone a flat look.

“Oops.” Stone grinned. Making a motion of zipping his lips. The recent brush of death made the large man open up entirely. Nothing else would make men feel familiar with each other than the need to work together for survival.

"Yeah, it'd be better if we take hold of it," Dan added. “Us being civil servants and all.”

“No problem. You keep it, we shoot it.” Riley said as he fiddled with the weapon making sure everything was in working order.

“Whoah there. I think we have enough ammo to go around.” Dan bargained.

"You only have to say it, man. No need to beat around the bush with that. Were all men here, we all like big guns," Riley replied, grinning. He checked the ammo can and pried open one of the wooden crates with a Ka-Bar knife revealing more belts, the polished and oiled brass glistening under the sun.

Hank and Casey shared a look. Everyone wanted to shoot the big gun, especially something that spits bullets at a rate that it could be heard as a roar. “How we doin’?” Hank shouted over to Riley.

“It's good. A bit used, some dust, but nothing that will stop it from working." Riley answered as he detached the feed chute and the battery, he then manually rotated the barrel causing the rest of the bullets to fall out of the extractor. "It's cleared. Now we get to carry this bitch down. All eighty pounds of it.”

"Eighty pounds! That's everything, right?" Dan asked.

"Nah man, it's just the gun. The rest is extra." Riley grinned. "There's a reason you only find these bolted into vehicles."

“Alright. First one to shoot it gets to carry it. You boys have fun.” Hank offered, picking up a belt of 7.62 NATO, laying it on his shoulder, and walking back to the stairs. He panned the light down the staircase, hoping that none of the spiders thought to wander out from where they had set up their nest.

"Fuck it. Eighty pounds, right? Help me with this shit.” Dan muttered.

Hank looked toward the men just as Riley and Stone helped toss the weapon into Dan's shoulder. "You really want that, huh?" He asked.

"I always wanted to let rip with one of these. I tried looking at doing it one drunken night, but the price was enough to sober me up. Now I get to do it for free." Dan answered. "Fuck it, right?"

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"Yeah. Fuck it." Hank answered, taking his phone out to snap a photo. “Let’s take one right now.”

Everyone agreed, they lined up as Hank leaned the phone on a wall and a timer set to take a photo with all of them in it. Dan was at the center, with the gun laid over his shoulder, Riley held the batteries, Stone had the feed chute, the link booster, and the ammo can, Casey carried the part of the ammo wrapping around his shoulders.

Everyone smiled for the camera. They knew that going back down the stairs could lead to their deaths, but if it's not on them to save themselves, then who?

“Does your radio still work?” Hank asked Casey after retrieving his phone.

“Its only receiving static now.” Casey replied, shining his light down. “Same as yours.”

They descended the stairs. Each step brought with it foreboding as if they were descending towards the pit of hell. They didn't bother looking for other guests that might still be alive, taking survivors in would only be a burden more than help. They agreed that they needed nothing but themselves to fight. In just a few hours, they had managed to build trust within each other that they would willingly face danger with full confidence that the others would cover their backs.

The lobby door was still jammed closed when they arrived to check it. They dropped their loads in the restaurant and gave a preliminary check for hostiles. It was clear and they agreed to start warming up meals for themselves. The gas still worked and they had a pick from the dishes already prepared.

Looking out the window, they thought about busting a way out. It was easily dismissed as getting caught in hostile territory on foot would get them run down or pinned. They didn’t have support. No one is going to bail them out when they happen to get trapped.

They finished their meal, enjoying it as if it was their last. They gave a final toast with the top-shelf whiskey and took the rest of the bottle with them, leaving a hundred-dollar bill on the counter.

The day still had a few hours until sundown, giving them a timer to adhere to. No one wanted to knowingly share a building with murderous giant spiders living in their basement, everyone preferred them small and harmless.

There was a reason Miniguns were only mounted onto vehicles. It was bulky and heavy, the motor driving the action of the weapon needed electricity, and the recoil brought upon by the speed at which it fires bullets is enough to push a full sized man. There would be no way they will be able to fire it standing.

Which meant the needed to improvise.

They took one of the restaurant dollies and mounted it, securing it using straps, duct tape, and prayers to keep it firmly in place. The mounting setup wouldn't allow for elevation adjustment while traverse would have to be handled by turning the dolly itself. Trucking it back and forth, the dolly was able to handle the weight of the gun to which they added the batteries and the magazine. The weight would help with the recoil. Finished, everyone stepped back to admire the results of their improvisation. It was the ugliest thing they had ever seen, but if it works it doesn't even matter.

“Alright. Test it.” Hank ordered as Riley finished his diagnostics. He handed it over to Dan, who crouched to its level and flicked the master switch. The green LED lit up, indicating master power, then pressed the lever. The gun spooled up and spat a stream of bullets to an internal wall and the structure behind it, transforming it into a piece of modern art.

The recoil was still heavy but was manageable.

"Alright, it fucking works!" Riley yelled and everyone exchanged shoulder slaps and fistbumps. He disconnected the power and came through the process of lugging it back down the stairs to where it will be used.

The arrangement would be for the Dollygun to be the primary means for them to eliminate the massive critters. Dan would get to have the honor of firing the weapon while Hank, Riley, Stone, and Casey would take the role of support where they would take out the ones the Dollygun was not able to reach.

"Would have been nice if they took off the mount when they're at it," Riley muttered as he reassembled the weapon and did another systems check. Everything was operational. "That way we got T and E."

"Marines man. They always find something to complain about.” Replied Stone, shaking his head. He was Army, and the interservice rivalry was still strong even when they were long out.

Riley sent him a finger, then slapped Dan on the shoulder as he took his position behind the gun facing the door. He stood behind him next to Stone while Hank and Casey were next to the door where they would clear the ceiling on the other side.

They looked at each other and nodded their confirmation, they were ready. Casey kneeled to pull out the knife he had jammed while Hank reached for the handle and pulled.

The door opened to the darkness. Emergency lights offered islands of illumination but were not enough. Hank and Casey were first through, stepping through the threshold scanning the floors, walls, and, ceilings for anything that might be clinging on them. It was clear.

Hank waved them over and Dan trucked the Dollygun into the lobby. Stone and Riley covered the rear as they steadily made their way to the parking garage.

Casey picked up a vase from the receptionist’s desk, pulling off the flowers and tossing them to the side. He then chucked the vase deep into the hall where it shattered to pieces and caused a lot of noise.

Skittering sounded ahead as the critters investigated the source of the disturbance. Eyes reflected off the weapon lights which multiplied by the second. They had detected the prey on the other side of the hall and a swarm made their way to it.

“It’s all you know," Hank muttered to Dan. He stepped to the side while keeping his light on the target and holding fire.

“Get some!” Dan yelled as the barrel spooled and the gun fired a stream of bullets and a thundering road down the hall. The gun buckled from the recoil and Dan had to brace his feet against the force pushing him back. He held the trigger, sending a hundred rounds every two seconds until the rapidly rotating barrels gave off a dull red glow.

Dan ceased fire and the gun spooled down. The lights showed a hallway covered with a cloud of dust made of powdered masonry. It settled after a few seconds, revealing a hallway filled with insect blood and gore. Bodyparts were strewn around along with strings of organs sizzling here and there whenever they keep contact with discarded incendiaries from the tracers. Some still twitched from their insectoid nervous system but one thing was clear.

It worked.