Patriot Dawn: The Resistance Rises

by Velocity, Max

  Jack had an old camping shower tent that he set up in the yard over a deep drop latrine that he dug. They would go potty in a bucket, and tip it into the hole, with the adults simply going out to this improvised outhouse for ‘number twos’. He was using biocide to tackle the waste in the hole and gradually filling it in with dirt; he would start another hole and move the tent when it was full.

  They still had plenty of drinking water in 55 gallon drums in the basement, and there was a small lake that had fish nearby that he planned to replenish from, filtering and boiling the water as necessary. Jack had rain barrels attached to the downpipes on the corner of the house, and they had initially used this water to flush the toilets before they decided to block them as a defense against backflow and gas.

  They were even able to shower, using the rainwater heated up over a wood stove to fill a solar shower. Jack had rigged a bar up over the shower in the master bedroom to hang the solar shower from, and it was fairly comfortable to use. The bath in the main bathroom was still occupied by the ‘water bob’ that they had filled before water service stopped.

  It was not really practical to run a watch system, and there really did not seem to be much going on. Jack relied a lot on their German Shepherd family dog, Jasper. He barked without fail whenever anyone approached the house.

  Jack took to stashing his tactical vest and rifle in an easily accessible central place. He had started wearing his battle belt with his handgun and some magazine pouches all the time anyway, and Caitlin and Andrew wore their battle belts also. Jack always slung his rifle on his back when he went outside.

  The rifles and shotguns were moved room to room inside the house to keep them close, and the ‘Alamo’ was in the basement. They put the weapons up on six inch nails Jack had hammered into the walls, to keep them available yet safe from the young kids.

  They ran the kids through ‘bad guy’ drills for taking cover in the basement. When they weren’t doing chores in the house or the yard, Jack and Andrew often took turns sitting in a chair by an open window in an upstairs bedroom, just listening and observing the junction. Between that and Jasper, they hoped to avoid being taken by surprise.

  There had been some gunfire in the distance from time to time, sometimes the sirens of emergency response vehicles, but none of those lately. It was plain from the rumor mill that although FEMA was determined to concentrate everyone at their reception centers and camps, it was not working out like that. Many had gone in to the camps; others just used the distribution centers, handing over their firearms and getting chipped for the privilege.

  Jack had expected more of a problem in his area from looters and marauders, but although he could hear the evidence of the gunfire in the distance, they had not really seen anyone transiting through the neighborhood. It was true that their sub-division was off the beaten track, it was not an obvious transit route so may have been bypassed.

  Jack also wondered whether it had something to do with the high proportion of ranking government workers and those in the employ of the various DC alphabet agencies who resided in the area. Perhaps the area had been a higher focus for protection by law enforcement agencies?

  There were some bad rumors spreading around about treatment at the FEMA camps. Because of this, many had headed out to the countryside or remained at home in their properties outside of the zones.

  Of course, incompetence and corruption before the collapse had transferred to the current Regime. Progressive socialism with its doublethink logic went hand in hand with cronyism, incompetence and corruption. Those that actually handed over their guns in return for registration and food made the mistake of thinking the Regime was all-knowing, when in fact it was mostly a confidence trick. The corruption worked both ways, it benefited the cronies but it also created gaps for those wishing to evade the oppression.

  Some four weeks after the power went out the family was eating lunch in the kitchen when they heard loudspeakers out in the streets. Jack cautioned them not to show themselves and left the kids with Caitlin while he and Andrew went to look out. They saw four military Humvees, two of them parked in the middle of the four-way junction. They seemed fairly innocuous, they were unarmored and they did not have weapons mounted on top.

  One of them had, in place of a weapon, a large loudspeaker array mounted on top. It was blasting out a message: “THIS IS A FEMA MESSAGE. THIS AREA IS NOT SECURE. FOR YOUR SAFETY AND SECURITY WE REQUIRE YOU TO MOVE TO THE NEAREST FEMA COLLECTION POINT. YOU ARE AT RISK FROM EXTREMIST ELEMENTS AND CRIMINALS.” and so the message continued in a similar vein until it looped around again.

  “That’s a psychological operations unit,” Jack said to Andrew.

  Just down the street across the junction were parked the other two Humvees. The soldiers were going door to door knocking and when there was an answer they were handing out boxes of MRE rations. They seemed to be taking notes in conversation with those households that chose to show themselves.

  “So,” Jack said, “That’s probably a civil affairs team.”

  “But Dad, you said they could not operate here in the States?”

  “Yep, but they are. Ok, keep it quiet, we are not announcing our presence. Go tell Mom and keep Jasper and the kids quiet, I’ll stay on watch.”

  The civil affairs team moved across the junction and knocked on their door, but they made no response, Andy keeping Jasper quiet. They moved on, going door to door down the street. Finally, the teams packed up and moved off. Jack could hear the distant voice from the speakers coming from further up the road, at the next junction, as the military teams continued their mission.

  Chapter Two

  A couple of days later, it was mid-morning and Jack was sitting up in the watch position. He was reading a book with one ear on the street, glancing up occasionally. He could hear Caitlin in the kitchen, where Andrew was helping her with a chore, and the two young kids were playing down in the basement.

  The junction was to his south east, and the road that ran away from the junction in a south easterly direction dropped off into some dead ground as it ran off downhill.

  He heard the sound of a powerful car engine and looked up to see a small convoy of four vehicles crest the hill from the south east and stop some two hundred meters away in front of the Johnson’s house. There were two black Suburbans and two pickup trucks.

  As the vehicles came to a halt a number of men jumped from them and split, some headed towards the Johnsons house on the right and the others across the street to another house; Jack didn’t know who lived there. He did know that the Johnson’s had decided to stay.

  The men were dressed in a variety of civilian and tactical type clothes but they were all well-armed and wearing tactical vests. On the one hand they appeared scruffy and non-uniform, on the other they moved like experienced operators. They reminded him of security contractors he had come across on deployment; their appearance was like a mix of civilian paramilitary and SWAT.

  Jack saw that remaining in the passenger seat of one of the black Suburbans was a man in a dress shirt and tie. From what Jack could see of his head and shoulders through the windshield he was wearing a set of black civilian body armor over his shirt. Jack eyed him through his x4 scope and he looked like a pasty faced bureaucrat.

  Interesting.

  “Cat, bad guys, stand-to!” Jack shouted down to Caitlin as he shrugged his tactical vest on and closed the Velcro sides.

  “What was that Hon?” Caitlin called back, in the process of making lunch.

  “Bad guys! Get in the basement!” Jack repeated as he moved to the bedroom door so he could be heard.

  “Ok, moving! Kids, bad guys! Basement, let’s go, go, go!” replied Caitlin as she hustled towards the basement door.

  As Jack turned back towards the window he heard the sound of gunfire from down the street. He moved back to the window, bringing his M4 up to the ready position to scan through the optic, but being careful to stay back in the shadows.

  There was somethin
g going on at the house on the left; that was where the gunfire was coming from. At the same time, the group approached the Johnsons house and there was the crash of a shotgun as someone inside fired out at the armed men. They returned a fusillade of fire and rushed the door, kicking it down to enter, then dragging a bloodied Mr. Johnson out of the house and throwing him down.

  One of the gunmen appeared to be the leader and he was stood back from the house out on the front lawn. Next, his men returned dragging Mrs. Johnson and their sixteen year old daughter, Sarah. Mrs. Johnson appeared to be pleading with them but one of the men punched her to the ground.

  They brought Sarah to the leader and he grabbed her hair, blatantly inspecting her, then he reached up and ripped her shirt open, at which point Mr. Johnson got up and charged, to be felled by a burst of fire from one of the thugs. The girl tore herself from the leaders grasp and ran to her mother, where they both crouched in each other’s arms while the thugs stood around laughing.

  At that point Jack forgot all thoughts of remaining low profile. It was simply not in him to let this continue. He raised the rifle and took aim, firing and hitting the leader center mass, dropping him. He then followed with several more shots into the leader’s body as he sprawled on the ground, and then switched fire to the other gunmen.

  As his shots rang out, the thugs reacted by bomb-bursting for cover. Jack took some rapid shots and hit another as he ran for the cover of some bushes. He then began scanning for targets. Mrs. Johnson and her daughter had been frozen in place and then after a short delay they reacted and ran to Mr. Johnson, hysterically rolling him onto his back and trying to help him.

  There must have been around fourteen bad guys, less the two that had already been hit. They had dispersed to cover and were now hard targets. It was clear that they were trained shooters, but clearly not infantry.

  They had not yet located his firing point and he saw one taking cover by the rear wheel of one of the Suburbans, facing the wrong way. Jack took aim and squeezed off a shot, taking him in mid torso through the side of his vest, avoiding the ballistic plates and dropping him instantly.

  One of the enemies must have seen his muzzle flash from within the bedroom window and a shout went up as the target indication was passed out. Suddenly, a squad automatic weapon (SAW) opened fire from the cover of a landscaped embankment and the room around Jack came alive with the violent crack of passing high velocity 5.56mm rounds and the smacking and splintering as the rounds passed through the thin bedroom wall.

  Jack threw himself to the floor and crawled out through the bedroom door as the rounds passed through the room like some sort of lethal hornets’ nest, throwing bits of plaster and dust into the air. He crawled along the landing and headfirst down the stairs.

  Jack ran through the foyer to the top of the basement stairs, wrenched open the door, and called down to Caitlin, “Cat, we’re under attack. I’m going out back with Andy. Keep the kids down. Have you got the shotgun?”

  “Yes. Hon, for God’s sake, be careful!” she called back from the bottom of the basement steps, shotgun held at the low ready. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” said Jack as he headed towards the back door, where Andrew was waiting, M4 in hand and battle belt on, as they had planned. “Ok, as we discussed Andy, stay in cover and protect the rear. This is gonna get sporting - don’t hesitate. If they come round, take them out. They’re wearing armor, so aim hips and heads. If you get in trouble, call me.”

  They jogged out the back door and across the deck, Andrew running to a wood pile at the rear of the property and taking a position to cover the left rear of the house. Jack turned left and ran around to the right front side of the house, heading towards the edge of the wooded yard where it ran along the top of the bank before the open grassy easement as it sloped down to the road.

  From among the trees he could cover the junction to his front and also the front of the house, to his left, with enfilade fire. Andrew was covering to the rear left of the house. The main weak spot was the left side of the house, that was blind to both of them, but there were two small windows behind shrubbery at ground level that accessed the basement. If the bad guys got to that wall and tried to breach those windows, Caitlin would have to stop them with the shotgun.

  Now that Jack had moved from his fire position in the window, the bad guys must have thought they had him suppressed. They continued to demonstrate fire superiority and they had started to maneuver towards the house. There was a huge volume of fire ripping into the house and he was thankful for the basement and the hard cover that his wife and kids were in down there below ground level.

  The enemy firepower was simply tearing into the house and they were firing through all the windows and even through the walls as they shot the place to pieces. They had not spotted him out there on the right flank in the tree line.

  Jack saw a group of four break cover and run in single file from left to right across the far side of the junction towards the house opposite his. He engaged the rear guys first, making sure to give them an appropriate lead. He shot three of them in rapid succession, working up the line, the guys in front not realizing what had happened.

  The front guy reached cover and turned to look for his guys behind him. He was only about a hundred meters away and his look of incredulity as he saw his team sprawled out on the road and on the verge was cut short as Jack shot him through the head.

  They were all wearing body armor and Jack was trained to aim ‘center mass.’ He had reverted to his training. Sometimes his high velocity rounds found their way in past the front and rear ballistic plates, other times they did not. One of the guys was just winded and was rolling onto all fours to try and crawl to cover when Jack hit him with rapid fire, after which he switched fire onto the other two to make sure they stayed down permanently.

  Hips and Heads. Get a grip.

  The bad guys still had not spotted his position but the killing of the four man team spurred them to further efforts to suppress the house.

  One of the pickups drove out into the junction and stopped there with a SAW gunner in the back, resting the machine-gun on the cab while he poured fire into the house, firing long bursts from a box of two hundred rounds. Jack ripped into the vehicle with his rifle, changed magazines, and then he went to rapid fire again, smashing the driver and gunner.

  Jacks rage was growing.

  My family, my kids, my house and these bastards are trying to wipe out everything that is precious to me.

  He had knocked the SAW gunner back into the truck bed and he saw him getting up and trying to roll out the back. Jack riddled him with fire and expended the magazine shooting into the vehicle.

  Ok, calm down, steady it down, hold the rage close, but think. If I screw this up, we are all dead.

  He dropped the empty mag off the weapon and was pulling a fresh one out of one of the pouches on his vest when he heard the roar of the second pick up as it gunned towards the junction, supported by a massive weight of fire from the dismounted enemy.

  The truck came towards the junction as Jack fitted the fresh magazine to his weapon. He could see a couple of guys in the back. Just then, he became aware of Andrew shouting from the back of the house. He got up and ran towards him; he could hear gunfire coming from over where Andrew was, and from the left side of the house.

  As he rounded the corner, his view of the rear left corner of the house was blocked by the deck but he could see Andrew firing from a crouched position behind the woodpile to his left. He ran around the deck and Andrew’s head swiveled towards him. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open with a kind of slack dazed expression. Seeing his dad he turned back and continued to fire to the left.

  Jack came round the deck and saw one of the bad guys lying on the ground. Another was firing from the corner of the house; they must have sent a flanking team to the left also. Jack just kept on going, weapon up, walking forward rapidly, engaging the enemy gunman until he went down. Just as he looked back t
o see if Andrew was ok there was a massive crash from the front of the house.

  “Stay here!” Jack shouted, running towards the back door, “Cover the rear!” As he ran, he dropped the magazine off his weapon, letting it fall to the ground, as he whipped another out of a pouch and slid it home.

  Caitlin was in the basement covering the two babies with her body as she heard the men shouting outside of the windows, which were up high at ground level on the left side of the house. The windows were large enough to let someone crawl through.

  She could hear the intense violence of the firefight going on above with the rounds cracking and whipping through the house. Jack had not covered the basement windows with plywood, to let light in during the day, and they were simply covered with curtains. Jasper was barking like crazy at the windows.

  Suddenly one of the widows exploded inwards. She was instantly up on her knee pointing the shotgun at the opening and she heard one of the men outside shout “Fire in the hole!” before silhouetting himself in the small window.

  Caitlin fired the shotgun and the ‘00’ Buckshot smashed into the shape. There was a scream of agony and then the flash-bang went off outside, followed by a stream of curses from the attackers outside. She kept pumping and firing the shotgun through the smashed window, and also into the walls to each side, before she reloaded with spare shells from the side rail.

  With one hand she reached for the kids who were both crying and screaming, “It’s ok, it’s ok, mommies here - it’ll be ok.” she repeated, as she kept the weapon trained on the window.

  Around the front of the house, the two guys in the back of the truck jumped clear just short of the front door and the truck accelerated, bumping through the shrubbery and smashing into the reinforced front door. The door went flying back out of its frame and the reinforced bull bars on the front of the grill smashed the piano back and it skewed across the foyer with a ringing crash of discordant notes.