Joe's plan was very simple.
They were going to surrender and join Hilroy Allicard. But not really join. They would appear as if loyal followers for awhile, however long it took, learn some intel and then plan an escape with as much stolen supplies as they could carry. The only other option was to join Allicard for real and spend the rest of their lives as glazed-over slaves fighting for the daily ration of crumbs. That or be slaughtered by his ranks here and now. The Crimmons family opted for stealing shit and going their own way.
Gary and Kyle quickly agreed Joe's plan was the best course of action. Luke said nothing as they quietly gathered the last of their supplies.
A few of the backpacks were now empty. The canned goods that had once overflowed were long gone. Luke slung the empty bags over his shoulder. They might come across a spilled bounty of supplies and need the luggage. Nothing wasted, nothing lost. There were rules.
Outside the storage unit the Crimmons could hear the cohesive scampering of feet. The sound of knives scraped against the tin walls, echoing through the room as if a monster was scratching to get in. It was. Luke felt chills.
"We can't do this!" said Luke suddenly.
"Keep your voice down," urged Gary.
"They already know we're in here."
"But they don't know our plan, do they, little brother?" chimed in Kyle.
"Once we join, we'll never get away," said Luke.
"It's the only choice," said Gary. "You want to fight off an army? Just the four of us? Don't be stupid! We'll find a way to escape. The Crimmons always escape. Remember that."
Kyle didn't reply. The family stood huddled near the exit. Their meager supplies were packed. Nothing remained in the refuge other than a scant pile of ashes from the last Rat-Bar-B-Q Special. And the smell.
"Ok," said Gary. "We're going to slowly walk outside and immediately surrender. Better that than be found hiding."
Everyone agreed.
"Keep your hands up high and leave them there," added Gary.
They exited the storage unit. There were thousands of Allicard followers filling the streets as far as they could see. They wore ragtag jumbles of armor adorned with a small crest of the letter 'A.' Uncountable weapons directed themselves toward the Crimmons family. A man jumped up onto a newspaper box so as to get a better view. He shielded the sun from his eyes, peering over the army.
"Alli-CARD! Alli-CARD! Alli-CARD!" chanted the army.
"Welcome to the party," said the man on the newspaper box.
