They established a train-the-trainer program to ensure all community members were prepared to take on various responsibilities. Everyone had multiple skills and the important jobs were overlapped by several members in order to prevent a casualty from affecting the security of the entire population. For example, one person was given rudimentary flight instructions and that person would then teach another and so on and so on. As they practiced and showed another person their own skill, their levels improved in the process.
ike oversaw the building and training curriculum and felt satisfied. The towns were gaining results that would prove to be invaluable later. None of the townsfolk knew when another attack would occur, but they were certain it was inevitable. He was satisfied that if these people were attacked, they would be able to defend themselves. Repeated practice instilled the needed confidence it would take to defend themselves. They were living in unpredictable times and now that they had been taught how to expect the unexpected, to prepare for the worst, and more important, hope for the best.
At last count from reports coming to Fitch and Avalon more than a thousand people from scattered groups for training and hardening their communities, were rounded up in a mutual cause resulting in a suitable army that could yield positive results in another confrontation. The smallest groups were about ten individuals, ranging up to more than a hundred in some areas. Even the elderly were put to work sewing or sorting out a variety of components for easier assembly. They reloaded ammunition. The citizens were preparing themselves for war, and they were doing a good job.
◆◆◆
Slasher planned another attack on a small community called Nugget Town. This small group numbered about seventy people and was located north of Yuba City. It was locally known for having been the site where gold had been discovered, yielding a singularly large gold nugget from the side of a hill in 1889.
The old prospector who found the large natural treasure was promptly murdered for it. The murderer was hanged for the crime and the local sheriff became the recipient of the nugget. How that happened was lost in time. The sheriff became a wealthy man overnight and later served in the State Senate.
Five motorcyclists were on the outskirts of Nugget Town watching the townspeople fortify their defenses in anticipation of an attack. A former small-time politician and lawyer who had previously specialized in getting the guilty off before the war spotted the slavers watching. He circled around the outskirts of town and made his way to the bikers, unseen by anyone.
As he approached the men, he made his presence known. He had a plan to make their coming attack easier and less of a struggle; for a small price, of course. He only wanted two things. The first was to be in charge of the community once the attack was completed, and the second was to have a certain woman for himself. The bikers came to an agreement and the man set up a time and place to allow access for the bikers to assemble an attack.
Just before dark, he crept back up to the rendezvous area and found the outlaw gang, waiting for him. He directed Slasher in a hushed voice.
“Push your bikes and follow me. I’ll show you where the defenses have not been completed. There are only six men guarding the place. Take them out and the town is yours.”
Slasher barked out orders to the man on his left,
“Pass the word to the rest of the boys. We’ll follow this man and enter the town over there. Be quiet. Make any noise at it’ll be your ass. We can take this town easy.”
He then turned to the man,
“Double cross us and you’ll be the first to die when the shooting starts!”
He pointed off into the distance as the sky was becoming dark, still colored with beautiful reds and pinks, a spreading light purple that splashed against the dark blue sky. The breeze was barely a whisper. Slasher, signaled, and they all began to push their motorcycles behind the man who led them toward the town. The six sentries were killed quickly and with cold-blooded efficiency. Their bodies were dragged off into the bushes near a cluster of trees. From here the slavers were led by the turncoat lawyer to a large dark building.
“About twenty people are in there, take them out, and you’ll have half your job done.”
Slasher and his men entered the building and went from bunk to bunk overpowering men while they slept. Ten minutes later, the captives were bound and gagged, or killed. Three bikers were left to guard the captives and the others left the building.
They quietly approached another smaller building where thirty women were sleeping. As before, they went in and overpowered the occupants, bound and gagged them. Three men were rounding up the weapons from the two buildings and began putting the rifles, shotguns, pistols, and knives into a pile outside the entry of the second building. So far, it was a good haul.
The turncoat lawyer walked toward the next target of opportunity.
“This way now.”
Slasher, and his men followed close behind. They parked their motorcycles behind the first building, and they walked, unchallenged, to the second entrance to the town. The barrier here was formidable. There were several pickup trucks and a large bulldozer blocking the road. Six men with rifles stood guard.
“This and one other group is all that stands between you and ownership of the town.”
Slasher pointed to his men.
“You ten, follow this man to the other group, and when you’re done, get back here. If you can avoid it, don’t shoot anyone. We want live captives, so take them silently, and be quick.”
The lawyer and the ten slavers headed off into the darkness to secure the final position. Slasher looked at the rest of the thugs.
“Let’s do this quick and quiet.”
The thugs with Slasher moved on their position at the blockade. A man was leaning against a truck. He was the first to get taken down, unseen by the others. Then another man was overpowered and bound. Slasher stepped out of the shadows in front of the remaining guards.
“Drop your weapons or die!”
One man raised his rifle and was killed instantly with a volley from the bikers. Off in the distance several more shots rang out and then it was quiet. The remaining guards dropped their weapons to the ground. From beginning to end, the ambush took less than a half-hour. The town was theirs. They moved their captives from the remaining two positions to the two buildings where the earlier captives were restrained. Slasher was elated. This was easier than he imagined. He thought about having his spies in the various towns; in that moment he realized that these towns would probably be just as easy to overtake. He just had to bide his time.
The lawyer was very happy as he approached Slasher. He almost did a little dance he was so elated.
“Now that is done, I want to show you the woman I want for my own.”
Slasher drew his weapon from his belt holster in a fluid move and fired one shot to the lawyer’s head. He was dead before his body hit the dirt with a look of shock frozen on his face. An echo resounded from the walls of the building as a small puff of dust sprang up from the spot where the lawyer hit the ground and didn’t move. A large spreading dark red puddle of blood oozed from what was left of the back of the turncoat’s head.
Slasher was pleased.
“Enjoy your just reward, asshole! The only thing I hate more than traitors…is lawyers!”
The next morning, several men went in search of five trucks with ample gas to transport the townspeople. Twenty bikers were left behind to secure the town and the rest of the slavers headed for the main camp to take their find to Bone Breaker.
◆◆◆
News of the attack on Nugget Town spread quickly back to Fitch and Avalon. Mike was amazed at the skill and speed of the slavers in overpowering the townspeople. Steps had to be taken immediately to prevent more of these sneak attacks on the smaller communities.
The sheriff, Sam Walchak, Randy Stewart, General Stone, Lieutenant Bell, and Doctor Dan met at Avalon to create a plan to defeat the scumbags once and for all. Mike found it difficult to understand
how the slavers were able to continue preying on the weak and almost helpless people after the slaughter the slavers had previously been dealt by the people at Fitch and Avalon. They needed a plan to eradicate the group, and they were running out of time.
They talked for several hours on the first day. They eventually took a lunch break and were right back at it until supper time when they broke again to eat. They met well into the evening hours and still had no viable solutions, so they called it a day. Some went to the bar to continue talking while others simply turned in for the night.
The next day, after breakfast, they were back in the conference room. They made a list of things that were going to be needed if they were going to make the first strike at the slavers and be successful.
About five hundred men to get the job done.
Weapons and ammo to carry off a successful attack.
Adequate transportation to get the troops to and from the war zone.
A temporary hospital to care for the wounded.
Intelligence reports to formulate a plan of attack and withdrawal.
A field kitchen and an adequate amount of food and water to feed people in shifts.
At least six field radios to communicate with the fighting forces, the rear units, and anyone else necessary to coordinate the attacks.
Fuel for transport vehicles.
Support equipment for the actual battle: gyro-copters, aerial bombs, and other aircraft for aerial reconnaissance.
Strong leaders to command the various squads and platoons.
The overall, detailed plan was based on the Marine Corp’s five paragraphs planning tool which was easily remembered with the acronym:
SMEAC: Situation, Mission, Execution, Administrative and Logistics, and Command and Signal.
Although it was a good plan, they knew they would continue to refine it as they went along. Every plan was a simple starting point that rarely lasted past the first encounter with the enemy. It did, however, provide a framework from which to work.
The overwhelming and dominant train of thought that worked through everything was to limit losses of the Avalon and Fitch forces. They couldn’t spare many people to the projected potential losses that might leave the two towns vulnerable while the attacks were taking place.
Now that the armed troops of Sergeant Bell and Lieutenant Bell were a part of the groundwork, it greatly improved their chances of success. They would continue to revise these preparations until they were solid. After the second day of planning, the sheriff and the general were delivered back to Fitch. Meanwhile, another small town was taken over by the bikers.
It became apparent the Avalon and Fitch groups would have to make their move. The loss of lives, resources and territory was becoming a very large problem. People in the small communities were looking for leadership and meaningful help from people they considered the experts. A plan was finalized and a time-frame was established.
Runners were sent out to all of the known communities in small groups asking them to send representatives to Fitch right away. The planners made an inventory of all the vehicles available to transport fighters and equipment necessary for the upcoming battle.
A large Hercules aircraft from Chicago landed at the Fitch airport loaded with explosives, machine guns, hand grenades, shoulder-fired rockets, medical supplies, sleeping bags, mess equipment, food, battle rifles, handguns, and an assortment of spare parts.
Meanwhile, Mike, Sam, Roger, and Randy took gyro-copters to within hiking distance of Fitch to conduct reconnaissance of their objective. After landing, they hid their machines and walked for about an hour before spotting the slavers. These tough guys had assembled a large body of men and appeared to be preparing for another attack. They were moving toward Fitch. It was a large group, maybe five-hundred, perhaps more. They looked like ants moving on the highway.
The four men wanted to see where the slavers were headed, so they cautiously followed, being careful to remain undetected. After more than an hour, there was no doubting their destination, the group was traveling east on the main highway, which meant they were most likely going to attack Fitch again.
While in route back home, they radioed Avalon to warn them of the slavers plan and to tell them to prepare for an attack.
Chapter 19
The Gathering
Shirley Stewart was completely frustrated at having to deal with all the deprivations over these many months since the war began. It was taking its toll on her and her family. Before they came to Avalon, they gathered roots, insects, and anything else they could find to eat, and they were constantly on the lookout for people who were trying to kill them or cause them harm.
“I’m so tired of the fighting and doing without!”
Caroline understood, but she silently thought Shirley and her family were very fortunate to have been discovered by Mike and Sam, now that they lived here at Avalon. Of course, there were a thousand times when she had given thanks for having been brought into the Retreat.
Caroline realized that everything up here was temporary, and nothing in the present, or the future, was guaranteed to any of them. Their food supply was always predicated on a good harvest, of fruits and vegetables. They had to constantly ensure the health of the animals to provide this group with what they needed.
Now, they were faced with yet another onslaught from the slavers. Caroline was both sympathetic toward Shirley, sitting across the table from her, and worried about her own husband. Not to forget the baby she was expecting to deliver resting inside her.
Her husband, Mike, was a warrior, always ready to be out on the front lines whenever anything happened. This put him in constant danger of becoming a casualty.
Caroline was brought back from her thoughts as Shirley waved her arms and spoke, pointing her fingers and extending her arms indicating beyond the walls of the building,
“I don’t mean that I’m not totally thankful for Avalon and what is here. I’m sorry if I made it sound that way. I didn’t mean it that way. We are living so much better than we were before we came to this place. We eat well, and we’re saved from all the danger out there. Believe me when I say, that’s a relief.”
She stared off into space as if she was watching something happening off in the distance.
“I’m sure you’re worried every time there’s a crisis.”
She looked at Caroline, whispering,
“But don’t you just hate it?”
“Yes, I do worry!”
Caroline was nodding in agreement. She thought about it all the time.
“Sometimes it makes me sick just thinking about what might happen to all of us. Mike, me, and the original group that formed the core of this place, all of us struggled, and did without so much because we all believed in what we were putting together. At the time I really didn’t believe this was going to happen, and yet, here we are.”
She leaned in closer matching Shirley’s whisper with her own.
“A lot of people told us we were crazy, a bunch of loonies. They said nothing was going to happen. But it did, and here we are. I have to realistically believe those who had all of that negative stuff to say about us are all dead now. Who is better off? When those thoughts drift through my mind, then my baby gives me a kick and I feel wonderful. I feel so happy I am alive, and my baby will live because of my decision to be here. I know this sounds crazy but, this is the most wonderful I have ever felt in my life.”
Caroline leaned back in her chair, resting her hand protectively on the top of her belly, nodding and smiling softly at Shirley.
“Yes, I worry, but if there is one thing, I’ve learned through all this, nothing is guaranteed for any of us. Not one more second of life, not one more meal. So, our safety depends on all of us watching each other’s backs. For any of us to be safe from what goes on out there, we all have to make sacrifices and we have to accept the consequences of what we put into motion, no matter how terrible the results may be. I am more than willing to do whatever I have
to do to make sure my baby lives.”
Caroline continued, her brow furling despite her brave words.
“I have no delusions that some of us will eventually die. We’ve all been very lucky so far, and I pray that we will continue to be, but we are all dependent on each other and all of us must contribute what we can. We all have to stick our necks out in order to survive.”
Shirley reached across the table and placed her hand on Caroline’s. She did understand. She thought of losing her own son or daughter to this madness. It was almost too difficult to comprehend. She often thought about how she would feel if anyone in her family died. It caused a shudder to course through her.
Caroline asked,
“Are you cold?”
“No, no. It’s nothing.”
In one of those moments we all experience, Shirley’s thoughts detached her just for a moment. Sometimes she found herself dreaming she would see her husband standing in front of a grave. His head was low; she would come to him in the dream
“Who have you buried?”
She would look at the roughly carved cross to find her own name.
She woke up shaking from that dream on more than one occasion. She knew it was only a dream, but in these uncertain times, she wondered if it was a premonition. She tried to purge those images from her mind, but they returned often.
Caroline realized how this woman was feeling. She sensed her thoughts were dark, and she was sympathetic. Discouraging thoughts often haunted her as well, but she had decided long ago that she wouldn’t let them dominate her judgment or get in the way of living her life in the moment. She stroked the top of her stomach to connect with the child within before she reached over to squeeze Shirley’s hand as she spoke softly to her,
Avalon- The Construction Page 18