Vigilante: The Way West: New Beginnings in a Post-Apocalyptic World

by Cliff Deane

  Colonel Steiner had decided the Beaumont area of Texas would serve his Battalion well as a winter refuge. He and his mercenaries were bone weary; they wanted to stop their trek across Southern Tier for a long rest before attacking the vast desert of West Texas and New Mexico.

  The colder weather of Eastern America had moderated to some degree as the warmer waters off the Texas coastline seemed almost tropical to these former soldiers for hire.

  Sergeant Major Karl Kempovic sneezed, then blew his nose, which appeared red and tender.

  “Bless you,” said Colonel Steiner almost absently as he turned to his Sergeant Major to receive the Morning Report on vehicle and personnel readiness.

  “Mein Gott, Karl, are you all right?”

  The Sergeant Major smiled weakly at his Commander, and said, “Yes, sir, I think it is just allergies from the change in climate. Of course, it could just be an ordinary cold; still, it’s true, I do not feel well, but I’ll be fine.

  Changing the subject to the Morning Report, the Sergeant Major handed Steiner the hand-written paper the Battalion Clerk used to compile the notes from each Company First Sergeant.

  Steiner took the paper, and as he studied the report, he became mildly alarmed at the number of his soldiers reporting symptoms similar to his Sergeant Major.

  “Karl, can this be correct? Is it possible that nearly 20% of our soldiers also suffer from allergies similar to your apparent condition?”

  Further perusal of the document indicated that all three of the Battalion Medics were also ill.

  Major Helmut Schmitt, Colonel Steiner’s XO, walked into the Orderly Room Tent as his Commander was speaking to the Sergeant Major about the Morning Report. Upon seeing Karl’s nose, and hearing him sneeze, yet again, he said, “Herr Oberst,“ (Colonel), “I believe we must halt for several days. Our sick list is snowballing; our scouts have identified two large motels, only two miles ahead. Perhaps it would be best to allow the battalion to get over this cold, influenza, or whatever it is that has so many of our people ill.”

  “Yes, I…”

  Steiner was interrupted by a series of three sneezes from his Sergeant Major, who had no time to cover his mouth before he had spread his “allergies” to everyone in the tent.

  “Mein Gott, Karl, cover your mouth,” snapped Steiner.

  “Of course, sir, it just came on so fast, I had no time. I shall, of course, be more careful in the future,” said the Sergeant Major.

  Yes, Helmut, let us get the battalion to the motels and get everyone healthy again before we move on to Beaumont. Agreed?”

  “Yes sir, I shall see to it immediately, along with a company to clean and change the linen.”

  Beaumont, Texas

  The area around Beaumont, TX had, in less than two years, again, become rich in lakes, with abundant fish capable of feeding many people. The lakes, and bayous, now provided clean, healthy food-fish, clams, mussels, crab, and the Gulf of Mexico produced its own Horn of Plenty.

  Though the oceans had receded, the creeks and rivers continued to flow, flushing out the damages done by man.

  The farmlands were again ready, and fertile. Farms had done well, in the summer of aught-one (01), as had the fishermen. Wild game was returning in healthy numbers, and the, now unrestrained, cattle roaming the countryside created a new demand for Cowboys.

  Chickens, sheep and the other herd animals once dominated by man were slowly being gathered and returned to their former place in the grand scheme of things.

  Hygiene was always a significant concern; one that remained fresh in the memories of the survivors, as dysentery and cholera took their toll of those too foolish to boil their water, or keep sewage far from water sources.

  The population of the Beaumont area, had, like the rest of America suffered greatly. The people had splintered, fled from the gangs, and diseases, but now, those who survived had returned home.

  They naturally formed many small tribal villages, built around extended families. They quickly began to trade among themselves and, as you would expect, these Texas folks were a determined lot. Those now repopulating the area were fiercely independent and initially wary of strangers coming into their midst. They had been forced to leave in the initial aftermath of lights out, but now they were back to stay, and in no mood to be pushed around.

  Fort Polk

  23 October 0900

  Hospital

  Ft. Polk

  As the only two Doctors in the ROA, Dr. Tom and Dr. Faith Monroe worked opposing shifts, following the convoy explosion, which destroyed seventeen Semi-Trucks and Ammunition Trailers. The real horror of the Islamist attack was in the loss of so many veteran Troopers who had dedicated their lives to the promise of a new nation, The Republic of America.

  Dr. Faith was currently on shift until 1200 hours, along with half of the Nursing Staff. It took only a quick look to realize that the Doctors were exhausted, and on the verge of collapse; but tired, or not, 23 October would be a red-letter day for the Medical Staff, as one hundred volunteers from the civilian portion of the ROA were arriving via Huey, eight at a time.

  The first arrivals were given a short welcome speech by the Interim Pharmacist, Darren Murtaugh, before organizing them under the tutelage of the ROA Troopers they were to replace. The new students were initially placed in teams of Housekeeping, Supply, Bookkeeping, Pharmacy, Runners, Meal Techs, and a seemingly unending list of jobs; that is, before the glamour jobs, like changing bandages, bedpans, diapers, and sponge baths.

  On day two, the troopers had been returned to their regular duties. The Nursing Staff then began the actual training of the ROA Nurse Corps. Student leaders quickly emerged from the ranks and were given additional responsibilities, as their talents warranted.

  The Nurse Corps volunteers made good on their promise to treat and serve the patients under their care. Morale among the Medical Staff rose exponentially as the volunteers began to prove their worth.

  Even the two Doctors were finally able to get a bit more rest between rounds. Everyone knew the training would not produce quality Nursing Assistants immediately, but even the small things, the baby steps, so to speak, gave everyone hope.

  Nurse Melissa Carter, the wife of Colonel Mike Guyardo, was tasked with guiding both Levi and Gus through the Wards of the wounded.

  A few of the wounded would be unable to return to their former roles and were informed that they would be cross-trained into Military Specialties suitable to their new abilities. Of the wounded, Levi was stunned and proud to learn that not one of the injured wanted to leave the Brigade and join the civilian population.

  Gus later reminded Levi that there were no Ex-Sheepdogs. “General, the 1st Armored Brigade is made up of Troopers who want to be in service to the ideals of the ROA, no matter the cost.” They both knew there were no duds, nor malcontents who would rather, “Let Mikey do it!”

  Colonel Guyardo had the Post Headquarters cleaned and prepared to receive the Brigade Staff. Job one had been to remove every computer from the building; space was needed on each desk for the re-introduction of the M1-A1 Number Two Pencil and Paper combo. At least for their lifetime, old school was back.

  The Command Staff all agreed to establish sleeping quarters in the HQ Building. Cots were moved in, and the business of running the brigade was fully operational by the time the ROA Convoy arrived on 30 October.

  At the very first morning briefing, the Sergeant Major asked, “General, it looks like we are establishing a long-term occupation of Polk; are we planning to be here for the long haul?”

  Gus pretended to gaze into a Chrystal ball and said, “Yes, and no; does that answer your question, Sergeant Major?” Everyone laughed heartily, including the Sergeant Major before Gus continued. “Okay, I guess that would only answer the question to a Marine,” again chuckles from around the table.

  “On a bit more serious note, it appears that we do have a few options; we can leave a small caretaker force here to care for the wounded, many of wh
om will require up to three months to recover.

  We have, however, decided that further division our medical staff would be ill-advised. Two, we can settle right here, but Fort Polk is still remotely in Hurricane country, so, no; we have decided to remain here only until our troopers are recovered and returned to duty. This will give us all a chance to rest, refit, and generally, catch our breath.

  General Levins, and I believe this is the best option, given the limited information we have. Therefore, we will remain here for no more than five months, before locking up and turning out the lights.

  At that point, thanks to the LRRP, which departed yesterday, we will know precisely where Steiner and his Mercs have holed up.

  ***

  Chapter 10

  Whoa, hoss!

  30 October 0800

  55 miles from Beaumont

  I-10

  “What’cha think Tyler? Are these more of them murderous bastards camped down the road?” asked Tyler Green of his friend, Millard Simons.

  “I ain’t rightly sure,” said, Tyler, “the vehicles look the same, but the uniforms are kind of a gray-green instead of black. Hell, maybe they’re chasin’ them scumbags. What say we keep an eye on ‘em and see what happens?”

  “Good idea, with all that firepower, I’d rather just watch ‘em than try to shoot it out.”

  The LRRP had been on the road for seven days and had spoken with several people along the road, which wasn’t easy since everyone was very suspicious of soldiers; especially after the mercs had passed through the area.

  Staff Sergeant Primm had learned that he was getting close to finally having a visual on Steiner’s rogue battalion. The 30th of October had brought the LRRP to within five miles of the mercs.

  Damned Flu!

  30 October 0900

  Mercenary HQ

  I-10

  The Sergeant Major was amazed that neither Colonel Steiner nor his XO had contracted the upper respiratory infection, this damnable flu, that was ravaging his battalion.

  In just one week, this microscopic monster had more than 30% of his soldiers now combat ineffective. If this trend continued, nearly the entire force could be so ill the battalion would be helpless.

  Steiner looked to Sergeant Major Karl Kempovic, his Comrade in Arms of many years of service in Africa, and said, “Well, Karl, you look much better this morning; shall I assume that you will live?”

  “Yes sir,” smiled Kempovic, “I still feel a bit weak, but I am well on the mend.”

  Rolf Steiner placed his hand on Karl’s shoulder and said, “That is wonderful news my friend, because you, Helmut, and I have some serious planning to do.”

  Karl was anxious to return to his duties and asked his Colonel when he would like to begin the planning session.

  “Now, Karl, now! We have no time to waste!” said Steiner.

  “Of course, sir,” replied the Sergeant Major, as he turned to his Orderly Room Runner and shouted for him to find the XO and inform him that his presence is required immediately for a meeting with Colonel Steiner.

  Major Helmut Schmitt arrived at the Orderly Room within five minutes.

  The three men had all felt the hair on their necks rise, as their unseen enemy crept ever closer.

  “I know,” said Steiner, “that they are now closing in; even though we have never seen even one of them. Yes, they are near, and we are at our weakest point ever, with nearly one-third of our soldiers ill.”

  Both men not only trusted Colonel Rolf Steiner’s intuition, they felt the exact same enemy presence in their own gut.

  Steiner continued, saying, “Therefore, I believe that we should take the following actions;

  With 30% of our force down, we must temporarily reorganize the battalion into three new companies, Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie, with the Headquarters Section.

  Alpha Company, along with the HQ will depart tomorrow morning, continuing to Beaumont. Hopefully, we will be able to find some medical support to send back here.

  Alpha will then continue on to Corpus Christi and the Brownsville area to establish winter quarters and await the arrival of the remainder of the battalion.

  Bravo Company will establish a rear guard, roughly two miles from this location. This rear facing defensive position should cover roughly a thirty-degree arc to defend in-depth, utilizing OPs, followed by fire teams, squads, and platoons. The primary mission will be to provide protection of our sick in Bravo Company and to delay, or destroy any enemy plaguing our rear.

  As the sick recover, they will replace anyone on the line who becomes sick.

  Once the flu has run its course, Bravo and Charlie will then follow Alpha to the Corpus Christi Naval Air Station to reforming the battalion.

  Helmut, you will take overall command of both Bravo and Charlie Companies; keep them fed, and get them well.

  The Sergeant Major will remain with the Headquarters Section.”

  When Steiner finished outlining his plan, he asked, “Are there any questions, additions, or deletions?”

  Both the XO and Sergeant Major liked the basic plan and recommended that it be put into immediate operation with only one caveat from the Sergeant Major.

  “Sir, the plan is certainly well thought out, but the Head Shed Staff cannot be so easily shifted around, and each man either has the flu or is in recovery. Those recovering should be able to return to full duty within a fortnight, and are no longer contagious.”

  “Damn,” said Steiner, “I should have considered that; all right, since we most definitely do not want to take this flu with us, if we can avoid it. We will, instead, leave any sick HQ personnel here until they are able to travel. Sergeant Major, see to it that appropriate transportation is left for them to rejoin us as soon as they are able to travel. XO, make certain that the Alpha and Bravo Commanders understand the transportation you allocate to the HQ staff is not to be siphoned off for their use.”

  “Yes, sir, I will see to it.”

  “All right,” said Steiner, “If there is nothing else, Helmut, please present the plan to the Company Commanders. I want the reorganization completed, no later than 1800 hours. Have the Bravo Company Commander present his plan for an, in-depth defense nlt 1500 hours. Roger?”

  Both men responded as one with, “Roger, sir.”

  Contact!

  30 October 0900

  LRRP

  I-10

  The LRRP was trying to find local civilians who would speak with them, but when they approached a home, even those known to be occupied, the Patrol found the inhabitants gone.

  Staff Sergeant Primm ordered that a note be left at each door, asking for information on the Merc Battalion. The notes read;

  30 October 0800 hours

  Sir or Ma’am, we are not a part of the murderous bastards who have murdered, raped, and robbed their way from West Virginia to your home.

  We have been gaining on them for nearly a thousand miles, and believe that we are finally closing in to destroy them.

  We intend to destroy these locusts through either combat or execution.

  We are a part of the military arm of the Republic of America.

  We mean you no harm, and ask only one thing, information that will allow us to end the rampage of this band of former mercenaries.

  We will remain in our current position for twenty-four hours, beginning at 8:00 a.m. on October 30. You know where we are. Please help us put an end to these bandits.

  H. Primm

  Staff Sergeant Harold Primm

  1st Armored Brigade,

  The Republic of America

  Corporal Shaw looked at the note as he slid it into the door’s crack just above the knob and asked, “Sarge, do you really think anyone who reads this will believe it?”

  “Only time will tell, Shaw, only time,” said a determined Staff Sergeant Primm, “but I sure hope so.”

  Shaw said, “We’re getting close, ain’t we? I mean, like real close?”

  “Yep,” said Harold Primm, “clo
se enough that I’m concerned about tripping an ambush from one of their patrols. Personally, I’d prefer to avoid that; if we’re involved in an ambush, I want to do the ambushing. I gotta tell ya’, Shaw, things were so much simpler when all we had to face were gangs and bad law enforcement folks. Yep, a lot simpler.”

  Back at the encampment, Harold put out four OPs with orders to capture, not kill.

  Tyler read the note to Millard and said, “Well, what do you think? Do we believe this?”

  Millard said, “You saw ‘em when they was here, just like I did, and they just left this note instead of bustin’ the door down and ransackin’ the house. ‘Course, I ain’t never heard of any Republic of America, you?”

  “No, I ain’t, but Tyler, I think I do believe the note. So, here’s the bottom line, do we help these guys out, or let ‘em run into those other bastards? I say we help ‘em out. You in?”

  Tyler thought for a few seconds before he said, “Yeah, I reckon you’re right, let’s make contact. Still though, I wish they wore the same uniforms we did when we served. Oh, crap, come on, let’s do this before we chicken out.”

  Millard smiled and said, “After you, old buddy,” and held out his arm in the direction of the LRRP camp.

  LRRP CAMP!

  30 October 1030

  LRRP Camp

  I-10

  “Hello, the camp!” shouted Tyler from good cover. There was no response, so he tried again; Hello, the camp! We read your note, and we want to help you.”

  From fifteen feet away, a hushed voice said, “Freeze, now drop your weapon and step out from behind that tree with your hands held high.”