I walked over to Dave’s spot and he was doing the same thing, camouflaging his position as I had. He had grenades out already also. He looked up at me and smiled.
The drone went overhead and that was our signal to head back to the house. Together, we jumped in the ATV and went back. While Ruth had been flying the drone, Julia had made a stack of sandwiches and made some fresh coffee. I don’t know where and didn’t really care, but she’d found a bag of Ruffles, and had them sitting on the table with the sandwiches. My eyes popped out when I saw them.
“Go ahead and open them,” Julia told me with a smile.
I opened the bag, reached in, and got one that was big and took a bite. It was heaven. It had literally been years since I’d had Ruffles. I looked at her, moved to her and giving her a hug, said, “Thank you. Where did you get these?”
“You can thank Sam and Anne,” she confessed. “They were in their pantry and yes, there are more. But only for special occasions…sorta like this one.”
“If I have another one, I’ll eat the whole bag,” I told her. “Wow that was good and brought back a flood of memories.”
She laughed and put two sandwiches on a plate, handed it to me along with a travel mug of coffee and said, “Put a FEW on your plate and eat. Dave, get in here,” and she handed him a plate with sandwiches, a mug and told him the same thing.
Ruth came in and said the drone was back safely. “The convoy did not see me, and they are almost to the bottom of the hill. I figure we still have about four hours before they get to the bridge. I guess we can relax for a while,” she said, getting a plate with a sandwich, a mug of coffee and when she sat down and saw the Ruffles, she almost passed out in surprise.
She looked at Julia and Julia explained they came from Sam and Anne’s pantry down in the underground. “I’m not going to tell you what else is down there, but I’ll surprise you from time to time.”
We all laughed and ate our lunch. I broke the levity with, “I think I’ll launch the drone in about two hours and look at their progress. That should give us an idea on when we should go down and complete the set up. You two,” I said motioning to Ruth and Julia, “need to be down low in your positions when I set off the first three sets of Claymores. When you hear the third set of explosions, give it a second or two for things to come to earth then you can get up and begin firing. Keep firing even when you see the fourth set go off. When you’ve both fired the two belts you’ve linked together, cease-fire and use your rifles to cover yourselves. Have a few grenades ready to use just in case.”
“What do we do in the meantime?” Ruth asked.
“I’m going out front and try and get a few minutes of sleep,” I said eating my last chip. “Might just be the last for a while.”
All of us broke up and Dave and I went into the front room and sat in recliners to catch a few moments of rest before the action. We looked at each other and knew both of us were thinking of ways we could improve the attack. The bloody nose style of ambush seemed like just what the doctor ordered for this situation. The key would be stopping the first vehicle on the bridge and the last vehicle in the line. If we got both stopped and unable to move, the other three would be at our mercy, and we were giving none.
Ruth woke me an hour and a half later. She said, “Time to get up. It’s been ninety minutes for you two and we need to get busy.”
“Okay, I’m up. Dave, you ready?” I asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” he replied.
I put fresh batteries into the small drone, took it out on the front porch and back inside, I fired it up. I let it run for a few minutes to warm up then lifted off to 2,500 feet and flew due east to Sheep Mountain and rising to the peak of the western ridge, and slowly flew the craft due north and dropped in altitude to just above the trees. They had made it almost to the last curve. That would give us about an hour to set up any last-minute changes. I flew back to the house, put the drone inside, and we all got in the ATV and went to work.
I parked about two hundred feet west of the bridge, backing the thing into the trees. We’d cut pine boughs already for coverage and camouflaged the ATV. The four of us stood together and prayed then Ruth and I hugged and kissed, as did Dave and Julia. We went our separate ways after testing our communication gear.
Dave and I had white tarps that we draped over our positions. The girls were in positions we had prepared back in the trees on the southern side, well camouflaged in the greenery of the pine forest along the creek.
I settled into my position and getting the first clacker, finished the wiring, completing the wiring on all four setups. I worked the action of the fifty a few times making sure it was not frozen. I did the same with my M4 and inserted a new magazine. Then I squirmed around getting as comfortable as I could.
“One ready,” I said over the mike.
“Two,” Dave responded.
“Three,” Julia said.
“Four,” Ruth completed the chain. We were all ready to make war.
Twenty minutes later, we could hear the vehicles. One was obviously the plow as it was laboring heavily. Just up around the bend from the bridge, all the vehicles came to an idle. Julia got my attention on the net and said they were up at the corner discussing what to do and looking at a map. I told her to wait it out and keep her head down.
Finally, they made the turn with the plow truck leading the way. It took them another fifteen minutes to clear the snow enough to make the turn onto the road that crossed the bridge.
“Okay everyone; shake the cobwebs out and loosen up those hands. We’re going to get busy in about ten minutes,” I radioed everyone. I began to see movement through the trees and knew the plow would be turning down the straightaway for the bridge in just a few moments. The big black truck, a dump truck with a plow blade, came into view a minute later and seemed to come straight at me.
“Two minutes,” I said and got ‘two’, ‘three’, and ‘four’, calls in quick succession.
The truck slowed as it neared the bridge, I figured the driver gauging the width of the bridge verses the blade, and gently pulled onto the span and crept forward. I looked and the other vehicles were keeping close spacing and had moved up, slowing as the plow did. This was going to be perfect.
As soon as the plow blade broke the invisible line at my end of the bridge, I set off the first two Claymores. Fourteen-hundred steel ball bearings flew out at nearly 4,000 feet per second. The driver and passenger in the plow did not have a chance and most likely never knew what had happened. Almost immediately, after my first Claymores went off, I heard the massive report of Dave’s fifty firing and the front of the plow truck erupted in a fountain of steam as the big round holed the radiator and engine.
I quickly blew the second set of Claymores and the way we’d set them, angled towards the bridge, the rear most two vehicles were riddled with holes. The SUV was the last vehicle and was completely saturated by the steel ball bearings. Dave continued his fire with his fifty and I heard the girls commence firing with the 240s.
I waited another several minutes, hoping some of the men would try to get out of the vehicles and blew the northern ten Claymores. Not only loud but amazing as the amount of debris, smoke, and destruction I saw was enormous. I heard several men yelling and one person screaming. Someone was wounded and badly by the sound of it.
Again, I waited. Julia and Ruth opened up again, raking the three vehicles in the middle of the convoy. I gave it a slow ten count then fired the southern Claymores, dropped the last clacker, snuggled into my fifty and immediately joined Dave with firing into the vehicles.
One caught fire and all were smoking and blowing steam from the engine wells. I emptied the first mag, ejected it, and inserted another, racked the big bullet into the chamber and began firing, taking careful aim, and hitting each of the three vehicles in the middle, with several rounds each.
I heard Julia and Ruth stop firing, knowing they had expended their two belts each of M240 Bravo ammunition and knew the
y were preparing for their defense. Dave finished firing his second mag of fifty caliber rounds and I knew he was reloading that with the last mag and getting his M4 ready.
I fired my last six rounds in my mag, ejected it and reloaded the fifty then grabbed my M4. It was already ready to rock so I flipped the selector to three-round burst and waited. The sudden silence was close to overpowering. Smoke, fire, steam, and dust debris still hung thickly all along the convoy. I hadn’t seen anyone getting out of the vehicles and wondered if anybody else had seen someone.
I waited ten minutes and over the mike asked, “Is everyone alright?”
“Two good,” Dave said.
“Three up,” Julia responded.
“Four’s good,” Ruth replied.
“Ladies, please give us cover, we’re moving forward. Two take the right; one’s going left.”
“Two, copy,” Dave said.
“Three.”
“Four.”
I heard Dave rack a round into his M4 and together we rose and looked at the plow on the bridge. By the looks from our positions, it had four or five hundred holes in it. I looked at Dave and he motioned with his head to move forward. Together we walked, weapons up and ready, into the carnage.
The Claymores had more than done their jobs. Looking at the destruction, we didn’t need to fire so much ammunition – it was overkill. The Claymores had maimed the vehicles and their occupants long before we had shot any. I don’t think our fire made any difference at all; other than the satisfaction it gave us.
All the tires were flat. All the windows were either starred or completely blown inward. Not one vehicle was road worthy anymore. I stuck one body in the head, but all the others needed me to do nothing. Dave found similar destruction on the south side of the convoy.
We slowly made our way along the destroyed vehicles and reaching the SUV, looked inside. Four corpses lay in the seats, two in front, and two in the rear. All were dead and needed no head stabs.
I looked at Dave and he had a disgusted look on his face. We had just killed sixteen people. People that for some unknown reason were trying to kill us. I suddenly felt horrible and disgusted, hung my head, and prayed. Dave walked around and grabbed me by my shirtfront, pulled me to the rear of the carnage and we stood together, hugging, and praying.
Julia and Ruth came up a few minutes later and we did the group hug thing and prayed. The four of us could see the hurt and despair in each other’s faces. We stood there with shoulders hung low, holding our weapons of destruction, tools that had just, in a very macabre way, given us continued life. The duality of the situation hit me hard – they were dead, we lived. If they had only wanted to talk first and not murder…
We collected our weapons and ammunition, I gathered the clackers and remaining wire, and we got in the ATV and truck and drove back to Dave and Julia’s house. It was now late afternoon and a light snow had begun to fall, further dampening our spirits. Inside the Malone home, we stored the weapons of war and stripped out of our sweat-soaked clothing, toweled off and put on fresh garments. We met back in the front room where Dave had a fire going and a bottle of good bourbon out with glasses. I poured myself a healthy shot and stood, with one foot up on the hearth, sipping the liquor, quietly gazing into the flames.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and it was Ruth with a glass of wine, and together we watched the flames, occasionally sipping our drinks. Dave and Julia were on the couch together. None of us spoke. I’m not sure, but I believe all four of us felt guilty by what we’d done this day. We’d just killed sixteen men and they would never know what had happened our attack was so sudden and complete.
Dave broke the silence with a muffled voice that said, “Why was that so easy?”
“Planning, patience and position,” I said quietly.
“Those men never knew what hit them, did they?” Julia said almost in a whisper.
“I’m sure a few did,” I said, “but it was fast for all of them. The attack was so fierce and spectacular they didn’t have enough time to think or react. That was a prime example of what they taught in the Army about superior firepower to overwhelm an enemy. Personally, even though saddened by what we were forced into, I feel as though we just saved our lives and homes from those men. They all had weapons and there were several M249 SAWs in the hummers.”
Dave got up, threw a few more logs on the fire and stood with Ruth and me. I tilted my head down enough to get his attention and we clinked glasses together and gave each other a nod, sipping our bourbon. Both of us knew we’d done the right thing even though it saddened us. None of us being in the mood to eat, we cleaned up and went to bed.
The next morning, Dave and I had the grisly task of moving the destroyed vehicles and bodies. In other words, clean up our mess. We decided to drive his truck down to the site and collect weapons, ammunition, and anything else that might be useful. We took every piece of paper, map, and piece of equipment, even if damaged. We took everything as something might come in handy later.
We decided to drag the vehicles off the bridge and hide them in an open area just beyond where Dave and I had our positions for the one-sided battle. There, we could place them close together and camouflage them with netting found in one of the hummers. We’d use the big truck that hauled the fuel to Dave’s house and the multitudes of chains we had. The bodies - funeral pyre with no fan fare.
As we dragged a vehicle up to the area, we’d remove the bodies and place them in a heap together. We were about to hook up and drag the second hummer when Dave said, “Hey, there’s a box or something in the back.”
We forced the back open and dragged out an aluminum case, three times the size of a briefcase. It was locked with two hasps and locks. I searched the two bodies and finding a set of keys, found one that opened the case. It held the controls for the drone. We looked at each other and wondered what we could do with that thing.
Once we had the SUV dragged to the area and the bodies removed, we placed a huge amount of wood around the dead, doused the pile with kerosene, and moving back quite a way, lit it. It burned for two days and smoldered for three more.
Dave and I had policed up the area of the attack, picking up all the brass we’d expended. We also attempted to erase any signs of the strike, including packing dirt in the ball bearing and bullet holes in the trees and bridge to camouflage them from prying eyes. The ladies assisted us with making and setting up a pole system for the netting cover over the vehicles. To top that off, we used cut pine boughs and scrub oak, further camouflaging the pile.
Once the pyre was completely out, we coved the burn area with dead grass, twigs, rocks, limbs, logs…just about anything lying about that would help cover the spot. We felt we’d cleaned up the area very well and called it quits after five days of work.
Julia made us a hearty beef stew that night for dinner. Ruth made biscuits and along with healthy glasses of scotch and wine, we enjoyed a nice dinner together. Ruth and I said our farewell after dinner and drove the ATV back to Paradise Valley, for well-deserved rest and recuperation. I had some maintenance to take care of up in the Underground and would begin that project the next day. And I now had two new fifty caliber rifles to add to the armory. Dave had given me fourteen magazines also.
Sam and one of her pups went haywire as we pulled up in the yard. They were obviously glad to see us. Ruth and I wondered where the other two puppies were and never did find out. I was of a mind that an eagle or hawk or other predator had taken them, but sadly, they never showed up. We still had Sam and her pup. The other animals were fine, as I’d left the back door to the barn and the stalls open so they could get to the pasture and graze.
Ruth and I took a nice, long, hot soaking jet bath and slept like two people who had been working awfully hard.
Next morning, I had brushed my teeth and was about finished with shaving when Ruth came in and taking me by the hand, led me to the tub once again. The morning began very well that day.
I was whistling as
I ran up the stairs to the Underground. Since the shop was where the damage was, I didn’t have to drag tools too far and was soon at work repairing the damage done by the missile. The work gave me many opportunities to feel that we’d done the right thing with the ambush.
The window however would be a problem. The blast from the missile had warped the housing so badly it sprung the window outward from the unit. I thought of a bunch of ways to attempt to fix the problem, but in the end decided to call Dave, have him come over and give his advice. When I called him, he said he and Julia would be over in a little while.
Waiting was not one of my fortes, so I got busy, cleaning up the housing, filing the sharp edges smooth.
“We have to heat the metal frame and bend it back into shape,” Dave said as he inspected the damage. “We’ll need some cold water to pour on the metal once we have it back in place. That’ll re-harden the metal frame so it will have strength again.” Everything he said made sense and so with Julia and Ruth’s help, the four of us got busy and worked the issue. Three days later, we had the window, intact, back into the frame.
It was loose, but with some caulking, I was able to get a good enough seal to hold. At least cold air would stay out now. We were fortunate the blast from the missile hadn’t shattered the glass. I was happy with the product as it had proved it’s worth and strength in that attack.
Julia checked my ear and it was healing nicely. It did itch, but I kept my ‘paws’ off of like she’d ordered, and it healed rapidly. My other cuts and bruises had healed and the only thing that remained was a diagonal scar above my right eye, going up into the scalp. Beauty mark – yeah, right.
Dave and Julia had found the drone crash site and collected the pieces. Back at their place, they went over the thing and finding the locator transmitter, destroyed it with a hammer. Dave, fascinated by the drone, wondered if he might be able to repair the craft enough to get it flying again. After all, he had the control module for it now.
I'm Tired of Zombies | Book 2 | Full Scale War Page 23