Lone Star Odyssey- First Steps

by David Wilson

  Our group of riders sped by taking quick looks at what was going on before pedaling harder to get by the mess. Right about then the pain of the leg wound hit him as his cusses turned into screams of pain. Looking at him I said, “You might want to get someone to look at that before long.” As I dropped my M4 on its sling and pushed my bike off and began pedaling as hard as I could. Glancing back over into the parking lot I could see a large group of men heading from the store towards me. Pedaling hard I was about 200 yards away when at least a couple of that group opened fire on me with what sounded like deer rifles. This motivated me to pedal even harder and soon I was out of sight and the firing stopped.

  I caught up with my group after about 15 minutes, waiting for me at the top of the first hill on Highway 200. No one ask any questions and I left it at that. “Lets make some distance,” is all I said and motioned for Don to lead again. We rode that way for about another 30 minutes and had just crossed another bridge and climbed a long hill overlooking the valley we had just crossed. Several cars had stalled near the top of the hill and had been left sitting where they stopped. The vantage point gave us a clear view almost all of the way back to the 200 Intersection. I keyed my mic and told everyone to stop for a water break and to stretch. Coasting to a stop at the crest of the hill, I leaned my bike against the guardrail. Calling out to Ben and Jeff, “Hey you guys make sure you keep an eye on the road heading west. I don’t want anyone to sneak up on us.” Taking out my bino’s I scanned the road behind us, noting that the road behind us was empty, for now anyway. I was just having that feeling you get before something bad is about to happen and I wanted to get as much distance between those people and us. I just couldn’t help but think that if the father of that kid was the type to order his teenage son to beat people with baseball bats, then he was the type to want revenge for me shooting his worthless son. I said as much to the rest of the group. “We might have trouble coming up behind us. I get the feeling that the individual that has taken over that area back there isn’t the type to put up with someone challenging his authority. The question is do we run and deal with it when they catch up to us or do we deal with it now?” I ask. “What did happen back there?” ask Don, “we heard one shot.” “The kid said his Dad told him and his friends to stop anyone from stealing food. That translated into the kid and his friends beating people to death with baseball bats. I don’t know if you saw but that man and women only had bags of baby food and diapers and that kid and his friends beat them to death on the orders from his Father.” Beth step up and joined the conversation, “Maybe they were just trying to keep the supplies from being looted for the larger community, you could have just scared them off.”

  I looked at her for several seconds, “I learned a long time ago that anyone who would do something like that is an animal. I really should have put him down like a rabid dog. If they were only protecting the stores for the community, tell me why they attempted to stop us on the road. It was obvious we had nothing to do with the stores or their community. I probably condemned several people, more than likely women, to a brutal death or rape at that kids hands. He had no hesitation or remorse about what they had done to that man and woman. He is trash and a killer and my only regret is not putting a bullet in his head and not his leg. He is no different from a Somali clansman.” This last statement caused a puzzled look from the group. “Look, have any of you ever seen any of the CARE commercials on TV late at night. You know the ones asking for money to save the starving children?” There were a few head nods. “Did any of you ever see a male between the ages of 15-40 years of age in any of these camps with the starving kids. No, I guarantee you didn’t, and the reason you didn’t is all the fighting age males are in town sitting on their asses drinking tea and chewing Khat, waiting for the next food shipments to roll though so they can hijack it. None of those men are starving to death, plus those men own hundreds of camels and livestock, but you're kidding yourself if they would kill one of those valuable animals to feed starving women and kids and old people. They are worthless pieces of shit, lower than a rabid dog if you ask me. That so called kid back there falls into the category. A complete worthless piece of shit.” Not waiting for a reply I again turn and scanned the highway back to the East.

  Sure enough there was a group of men on bikes about a mile off and coming our way fast. “Enough talk, a group of 15 to 20 riders are coming our way fast. We are not going to outrun them with all this gear and the trailers,” I stop talking as Don shook his head in agreement and the rest join Don in nodding. Don spoke up, “We are all in this together and I for one do not like the idea of splitting up if that is what you're thinking.” I shrugged, “Ok, thanks, but you all need to realize that to stick with me will mean that we will more than likely have to kill some or all of those men.” Jeff and Ben had rejoined the group and were scoping out the oncoming group. They both looked at me and Jeff ask, “What is the plan?” I answered quickly, “We need to move down to those cars that are stalled on this end of the bridge. Let's move while we still have time.” Grabbing my bike and getting it turned around, it took us less than a minute to get to the west end of the bridge.

  The bridge was about a quarter of a mile long and would keep any of the oncoming riders from flanking us. I reminded everyone to stay behind the wheel of the vehicles. There were five stalled vehicles within 100 yards of the west end of the bridge with the closest being about 50 yards from the end. I keyed my mic, “When the shooting starts they will attempt to take cover behind that closest vehicle. Jeff I want you to make it really uncomfortable for them. Take up a prone position over by that van and shoot under the vehicle at their feet. If they run away let them go. If I can take out their leader they will more than likely retreat. Ben, after I open up you take out anyone that has a weapon with a scope on it. I’ll try and talk to these guys but I don’t think it's going to do any good.”

  The group of men were bunched up and had slowed as they neared the east end of the bridge. They had obviously seen us take up positions at the end of the bridge. “That is far enough,” I yelled, “what do you want?” A large man stepped off his bike and let it fall to the ground. He unslung a shotgun off his back and took a couple of steps forward. “I want the son of a bitch that shot my son back there,” he screamed. “You need to take your men back to town,” I said, “your son is lucky I didn’t kill him after seeing him beat two people to death with a baseball bat. If you push this there are going to be a lot more leaving wife and girlfriends without someone to protect them.” This only angered the large man, “We are not leaving until I kill you for shooting my son!”

  I keyed my mic, “I tried, Ben you take the guy with the deer rifle standing behind the guy doing the talking, Jeff, you take the long haired guy to his left. Don, start on the right and work your way to the center, Mat, take the left.” Turning I look at Beth, her eyes were wide but she had her .22/45 in her hands. “Stay down and watch my back,” I said to her and she nodded. “Last chance, take you guys home, go now, there is no reason these other guys have to die.” Keying my mic, “Stand by, if he moves towards me I going to take him down. Everyone stay under cover because most of them will empty their guns at us in just a few seconds.” Just then the big guy broke into a run for the car between him and me. My M4 came up from the ready position and I put a three round burst into center mass before dropping down behind the front tire of the car I was standing behind. There was a thundering barrage of pellets and rifle bullets punching into the cars we were all behind. Giving it a few seconds and waiting for the volley to die off, I keyed my mic, “NOW, NOW, NOW!” I said into the mic.

  Hooking my leg into the wheel well I pulled my M4 into my shoulder and swung around the front of the car and began servicing the men on the bridge as if they were targets on the range. I don’t think most of them even saw me as the only part of me that was exposed was my rifle and part of my shoulder. I gently squeezed the trigger once per target and moved on to the next. My M4 spitting three ro
unds of 5.56 with each pull. Most of the men we were facing were armed with shotguns, but a few of them obviously had deer rifles judging from the thump of the heavier bullets hitting the car. They had split into three distinct groups. There was a small group moving along both guardrails and the main group attempting to hide behind the closest stalled car. I had concentrated on the main group. The first guy I took had been about 30 something and had the look of a runner, long and lean, distantly it registered that he had a Ruger 10/22 in his hands as my rounds took him from around his belly button to mid chest. They obliged me by coming around that stalled vehicle in ones and twos, again most never even spotting me. After taking down another three, I glanced over at the group along the guard rail on my right, as I ejected my magazine and slammed in a full one, releasing the bolt and pulling it back into my shoulder. By the time I got the magazine seated the fight was over. I could see a couple of guys running back across the bridge towards town but I let them go. Enough I thought, as I turned to Beth. “You ok?” I ask, she was still holding her .22/45 but was looking away from me towards the back of the vehicle we had taken cover behind.

  It was then that I noticed the bolt of the pistol was locked back on her pistol. Leaning around her I looked and saw a pair of boots sticking out from around the corner of the vehicle. I reached out and touched her on the shoulder and she jumped and screamed, then after seeing it was me she broke down and starting crying. I stepped up beside her to see who it was she had shot, I was surprised to see the big guy that had been doing all the talking. He was lying on his back not moving but with a slight movement of his chest told me he was not dead, yet that is, with the ten rapidly expanding red spots on his t-shirt it was clear that Beth had emptied the .22 semi auto dead center of his chest. Beside him was the shotgun he had been carrying and I observed that the splintered stock. It appeared the burst of rounds I had fired at him had hit stock and receiver of the shotgun he was carrying, but the force of the impact had knocked him down but otherwise had left him unhurt. Somehow he had made it to our vehicle and was coming around to catch me from behind. A cold chill pasted over me, if Beth had not been there he would have had me cold.

  Stepping around Beth, I nudged the shotgun further away from the man with the toe of my boot. I leaned over him and patted him down making sure he did not have any other weapons. Picking up his shotgun I saw it was a tactical model Remington 870. Attempting to work the slide, a round was ejected but would not chamber the next round due to the damage. Placing the weapon on safe, I picked up the ejected round and slide it into my chest rig. Laying the shotgun on the trunk of the car I told Mat to make sure and throw it over the side of the bridge before we left. It was worthless and I didn’t want someone to pick it up and attempt to fire it after it had been damaged. “Help me,” the man gasped. Ignoring him I keyed my mic, “Everyone check in,” I said and waited until everyone did. Don’s voice came into my earpiece, “Mat and I are good to go.” Jeff was next, “We are good over here, both of us caught a couple pellets from all those shotguns but we are ok.” “Roger that,” I called back, “stay sharp until I check all of these guys out. Mat you move down here and stay with Beth, Don go over and check on Jeff and Ben.” About 10 seconds later, Mat came trotting over, slowing down after seeing Beth crying. “Take care of her, she is upset she had to shoot this idiot, reassure her she had no choice, he would have killed both her and me if she had not shot him ” I said and moved back to the shot man at the back of the car. Apparently he had taken all 10 rounds of .22 in his lungs and upper chest. The man struggled to breath and again began begging for help. I squatted down next to him, “I wonder if the two people you had your son beat to death begged for help?” I said staring directly into the dying man eyes, holding his stare of hate until he took one more ragged breath and panic entered his eyes. I smiled and waved my hand as if to say good-bye. His chest stopped and he was gone. Good riddance I thought.

  Standing I moved out onto the bridge to check on the other bodies laying every which way on the bridge. After checking them, a couple were still alive but none of them would last for more than a few minutes. I collected up a couple of the weapons they were carrying that we could use. Carrying those back to the trunk of the car I returned and began collecting magazines and ammo. One of the guns I definitely wanted to keep was a DP-12. I hated to add the weight but it might come in handy and to tell the truth I had always wanted one but could not justify the cost and it is a massive gun, I definitely would not want to hump it. As a defensive weapon it was awesome, not so much if you had to carry it everywhere. Carrying it back it made my M4 feel like a popgun. I also collected one Bushmaster AR-15 and several 20 round magazines and five pistols all in 9 mm. I had stripped off a nice leg rig with an M&P 9 mm from one of the bodies. Beth would get the Bushmaster and M&P rig. Moving to the next stalled vehicle on the bridge, I found several bodies. Ben and Jeff had really done a number on that vehicle with their .308s. The big rounds had pretty much riddled the vehicle and the individuals hiding behind it. Figured it was best if neither of them got an up close look at their handy work I called back and told everyone to stay where they were. Overall the bridge battle was a positive gain for us because of the gain in weapons, ammo, and equipment. At least for the short term, we really had no idea how the rest of the town would react and we needed to get a move on before the remaining town people could gather and come after us.

  Walking back I dropped off the pistol and leg rig with Beth and told Ben and Jeff to gather up the other weapons, ammo, and equipment and to get it packed. Ben was busy making fun of Jeff for getting shot in the ear. Going over to Jeff, he pulled the bandage away for long enough for me to get a look, I too chuckled, “Keep pressure on that until it stops bleeding. It looks like it will be painful for a couple days, but you will live.” Turning to Ben I told him to go get a tampon from my med kit in the top pouch on my ruck. Grinning evilly, Ben took off. Once he had returned I took it and cut it down until it would fit in the 9 mm sized hole in Jeff’s ear. Taking out an alcohol wipe I ripped it open and wiped the wound down front and back. Pulling out another alcohol wipe I ripped it open and pushed the cut down tampon into the small packet. Working it around and squeezing it until it became soaked with alcohol I pulled it out and motioned for Jeff to drop his hand. Jeff was softly cussing as he pulled the bandage away from his ear. “Suck it up Buttercup, this is going to hurt you a hell of a lot more than it is me. Here bite on this,” I said holding up my leather wallet, “there is nothing in it but some cash and it was made of soft calf skin. Nothing in it to hurt your teeth and this might sting just a little.” Taking the tampon I grabbed Jeff’s ear and rammed the tampon though the hole, of course this resulted in a small amount of cussing and hopping around by Jeff while we all laughed. After he stopped jumping around I distracted him with handing him the DP-12 and taking back my wallet. I told him he could not swap it for his .308, but that he could stand watch at night with it.

  Heading over to where Don was sitting, Don ask, “How did we do?” “We did pretty well. Nothing major broken that would slow us down. I do want to get moving again and get past Rockville before dark today. We will stick to the plan and pick up 28 down to River Road. New rule, we don’t get involved, we blow though and we don’t stop to help unless we really need to. We can’t stop ever 5 miles and have a gun battle. You ready to move out?” I replied. Don nodded and stood, walking over to his bike. I keyed my mic, “Ok, enough sitting around, lets get loaded up and get back on the road.” Walking over to Beth and Mat, I said, “Thank you Beth for taking out that guy back there, he would have had me dead to right if you had not stopped him. I know nothing I can say will make you feel better, but Thanks.” Beth nodded but was clearly still upset, but she had strapped on the leg rig and had her new rifle in her hands. I nodded my approval as I saw her adjusted the sling of the rifle and she turned and headed to her bike. Keying my mic again, “All right, mount up and let's move out.”

  Chapter Eleven

>   “Lets stop at the top of this hill for a water break,” I said into my radio mic. I adjust tried to drink from my Camel Bak water bladder and after a short spurt of water it had come up dry. We had pushed hard since the incident at the bridge this morning and had made good time. It was almost 3:00 PM and if our luck continued we would make it to the canal towpath before dark. If I was correct, we were only a couple of miles from where we wanted to get off the highway and get onto Shady Grove to head southwest toward the old Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Towpath. We had all agreed the old towpath would lessen our chances of running into large groups of starving people. Catching up with the rest of our group I stopped and leaned my bike against the guardrail. After taking a few seconds to stretch I went to my ruck and pulled out my Klean stainless steel water bottle. Taking a long drink, I looked over at the rest of the group. They were taking turns drinking from Jeff’s Camel Bak tube. I walked over, “What is going on?” I asked. Jeff just smiled and said, “Everyone else is out of water and I was just sharing mine.” I smiled back, well maybe smile is not the correct turn of word, grimace would be more accurate, “Everyone gather around, this is a good learning point.” Once everyone had gathered, “We made a mistake this morning of not refilling all of our water containers. I know I had everyone refill their dirty water bags, and I know everyone has a full clean water bag, but I didn’t make sure everyone also had re-filled their Camel Baks and all of their canteens. We cannot afford to be running out of water while we are on the road. The second mistake was no one self identified that they were out of water in their Camel Bak. And last but not least, one of us made the mistake of not drinking enough during the day. We definitely cannot afford for one of us to go down from heat exhaustion or heat stroke. I know that all of you are in great shape, well excluding me, but we sure cannot afford for someone to become dehydrated. From now on I will be checking to make sure everyone is drinking and to stop and replenish our water before we are all out. Also that no one immediately had to run over to the shoulder of the road and pee tells me none of you are drinking enough.”