“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I know about meditation and use it sometimes when I’m reading my Bible, you know, contemplating what I’ve just read.”
“Humans think too much. The Japanese use meditation to close their minds and focus on one issue, concentrating on the single matter, living it in their minds. In Special Forces, we learned to do that and use it to our advantage. I took martial arts from a Japanese instructor before I was drafted, and already knew the practice, using it to my advantage going through training. It has its uses.”
“I guess I’ll need to give it a try. In a way, I already have as I’ve been thinking about what you said about Highway 11 being the only route they’ll take. We had just assumed that since the guys we hit on the bridge came that way.”
“How so, thinking about it that is?” Nemo asked.
“I’ve gone over the whole valley in my mind in the past few days and I’ve found several areas we can pre-set things for an ambush or attack. For instance, on Highway 130, where we first wanted to set the ambush we used. I figure we could set one up there, the one we chose on Highway 11. If they choose to come up from the southeast on 47, we’ll hit them at the juncture of 11 and 47 as that’ll be a decision point for them. If they come through Albany, we’ll hit them just east of there in a steep spot on the highway I know. They won’t stand a chance. I can always set something up just before my bridge, even both sides. I’ve already prepared the flats on the east side of the creek on both the north and south sides of the lane, by the way, and I suggest you guys stay outta there. The Malone place is the one to worry over. Their place is out in the open and the only thing going their way is the creek. I just don’t know about defending their place.”
I didn’t tell them the most important thing about Dave’s home - their underground facility that Sam and Anne Burke had built. Dave was still holding that tidbit of information back for some reason. I wouldn’t be the one to spill the beans until Dave gave the okay.
“You have been thinking about it,” Nemo said with a thoughtful smile. “The additional C-4 will come in handy. I can show you how to make homemade Claymores that will be just as effective as the military version. It would be nice, however, to have a hundred more of them.”
“Funny you should say that as we just loaded four more cases of the things on the trailer,” Keger said walking up to the two of us. “I think we’re decked out pretty good for a fight, now.”
“Good, let’s go find us some trucks then,” Dan, said with a smile.
We dropped the trailer and drove through the base, coming out at the main gate where the three big missiles were on static display. As we went through, Ski said, “Wish I had one of them Huey’s in my kit.” He was referring to the one sitting on static display as we passed through the gate.
“What would you do with it?” Dan asked him.
“Don’t know, but it’d be fun zipping through the mountains like we did in the Highlands in Nam.”
“We could use it as a bomber,” Dave suggested.
“Too loud, too obvious and a sitting duck for people flying remote drones around,” Dan said. “It would be shot down quickly.” That ended the helicopter talk.
We turned left and headed for the area where the car dealers were. There, Dan found a GMC Sierra 3500, green; Jeff found a Chevy Silverado 2500, blue; Jack went with a Ford F250, red. He wanted a diesel, but I talked him out of it saying diesel fuel was getting hard to find. We drove over to the ranch store near the airport and added hitches and trailers to all three. They also went into the store proper and gathered more clothing and a few more supplies. We locked up the place and departed.
They followed us back to the ammo bunkers where we gassed up all four rigs and loaded up as much ammo and equipment as we could safely haul.
“We need to find their supply building,” Dan said.
“What for?” Dave asked.
“Ski wants a vest for the thumper and that’s where we’ll find it,” Dan answered. “Maybe other useful things, too.”
“Jump in my truck and we’ll go find it,” I said. “Weapon up!”
We hadn’t run into any Zs but going into a new building always had risks. We drove down to where a row of barracks was and looking to the west, could see another row of large buildings.
Dan pointed and said, “I bet it’s one of those. Head over there.”
I parked near a set of large double doors and Dan and his friends began to get out. “Hold it,” I said. They looked at me and got back inside.
“What?” Keger asked, his head turning as if it was on a swivel.
Dave explained, saying, “We always stop and watch before going into a new place. Keeps us alive.”
The five of us watched around the area for several minutes. I told them to wait in the truck and I walked up to the double doors and knocked, loudly, then put my ear to the door. Yep, I could hear them scraping around in there and it sounded like a bunch of ‘em. I looked back at Dave and held up two hands with ten fingers, letting him know there was a bunch of them and signaled he needed to go to the next set of doors and do the same. He told the three to stay put and ran to the next set of doors, knocked, and listened. He looked at me and held up one hand with two, then three fingers, then held his hand flat and wiggled it back and forth, indicating he may have two or three. I signaled we’d come to his door.
I ran back to the truck, asked the three to follow me and told them what we were facing. I pulled my suppressed nine as did Dave, and we chambered rounds. All five of us put hearing protection in and got ready. I looked at Dave and he nodded so I grabbed the doorknob and gave it a slow turn. It was unlocked and I looked back at the four and with my head, did a three count and opened the door.
Dave was first in and immediately brought his nine up and began popping rounds out. I followed and did the same. We killed four Zs in short order and the three Marines entered with us with their shotguns up in a port arms stance.
No more Zs came to us but we could clearly hear movement on the other side of some lockers or bins that formed a wall, with the backside of the lockers to us. We eased down the aisleway and turning to the right it opened into a cavernous room with rows and rows of shelving with supplies and equipment. Eureka, we’d found the supply building.
Caught completely off guard by a shotgun blast to my right, I jumped. Jeff had cut loose on a couple of Zs that turned a corner towards us. He racked a second round as Dan and Jack backed him up. I yelled that Dave and I would go to the left and told them to go right and we’d clear the building.
It took us over an hour, and we killed more than twenty Zs, most in uniform. The door connecting to the front of the building was blocked and the Zs in there could not get to us, so we let them be.
“Back to shopping, boys,” Dan said with a beaming smile. “This is the place. Get some of those flat carts and get at it. Get anything that looks usable. Doug, pull your truck around to that loading dock over there and back in if you would. We’re about to fill the bed.”
I turned and did as he asked. The four stayed inside and ‘shopped.’ Back inside, we found communication equipment with batteries, Mollie gear, and helmets, and yes, Jeff found his chest rig for the forty-millimeter thumper, along with eleven more of the rigs. Jack located a locker full of bayonet boxes, placing them all on his cart. Dan found a locker full of binoculars and took a dozen pair. Dave found a crate filled with canteens in pouches and hydration packs...there was so much stuff we couldn’t take it all even if we wanted. Nevertheless, we would know where it was if we did need it.
The back of my truck full, we used a heavy canvas trap and covered the haul, then closed the supply building and drove back to the bunkers. There, I reattached my trailer and the four-truck convoy headed west. Dave and I drove in silence for a while then he reached into the back seat and brought out a bag of Ruffles. I almost wrecked the truck.
“Julia said you’d do that,” he said, laughing. He opened t
he bag, took out one of the chips and ate it.
“No fair,” I yelled at him.
He laughed even louder but held the bag out to me. I reached in, took out a chip and ate it. It was so good.
He handed me a bottle of water and I downed it. I didn’t realize I was so thirsty. Another chip and another bottle of water…it was great. The ride home seemed shorter because of the chips.
We were coming up out of a valley in the Medicine Bow when Dave pointed up in the sky and said, “What’s that, an eagle?”
I slowed and looking up saw a black dot flying to the west. I pulled over and stopped. Dave gave me a look and I said, “Drone.”
Dan, Jeff, and Jack stopped behind me and Dan got out and came forward. “What’s up?”
I pointed and said, “Drone. Can we try one of those missiles from here?”
He looked in the direction I was pointing and since the sun was behind us somewhat, he saw it plainly. Looking back at me, the devious smile that spread across his face was most gratifying. He turned and looking back at Jeff and Jack, gave some hand signals and the two of them came running with weapons at the ready. The trio had a short powwow and Jeff and Jack broke off going to one of the trailers.
The two of them withdrew one of the Stinger missiles and readied the control housing on it. They activated the batteries and charged the system. Jeff gave Dan a thumb up and Jack readied the missile on his shoulder. Dave and I watched in fascination, as we’d never seen anything like this before. We would definitely need training on these things.
“When ever you’re ready to fire, go ahead,” Dan said to Jack.
“Ears!” Jack yelled and all of us put our fingers in our ears. A loud swooshing sound erupted from the shoulder-fired missile and we could see the whitish missile as it sped away at an unbelievable velocity. It tracked spot on and in just a few seconds, we saw a puff then a small fireball blossom then a trail of dense black smoke trailing to the ground.
“I hope they don’t realize what hit them,” Dan said. “Maybe they’ll think they had an engine failure or something and the thing crashed. I don’t really care either way, but I think we might be in for a ruckus soon. How far is it to Laramie from here, Doug?”
“About six or seven miles,” I answered.
“Lock and load everyone,” Dan directed. “Jeff, did you bring a forty?” His smile said it. “Get it ready and dress a vest, come on everyone, let’s get combat ready.”
All of us readied weapons, reloaded the magazines we’d used on the Zs and added grenades to our gear. Everyone had four grenades, two smoke grenades, bayonets, magazines, and weapons ready, and Jeff filled his new chest rig with forty mike-mike grenades. Then we drove to Laramie.
Dan must have been thinking they were controlling the drone from Laramie or something and wanted to be ready for whatever we might encounter. We definitely were ready. Five men meant twenty grenades, thirty-five, thirty-round M4 magazines and the same number of nine-millimeter mags, and fully loaded shotguns with bandoliers of extra ammo. And Jeff with his thumper. We must have each weighed in close to two-fifty…easy.
I led the way and down the mountain pass we went, reaching the eastern outskirts of Laramie in ten minutes or so. I slowed as I got near the first exit, scanning the area for movement. We’d put on our new communication gear after installing new batteries and Dan came over the net, “Slow to a stop just this side of the exit, please.”
“Will do,” I answered and did so. Dave rolled down his window and stuck the barrel of his M4 out and I heard the distinctive click of the safety catch being released. “You see something?” I asked him rolling down my window and putting my barrel out.
“No, just want to be ready, you know,” he said, nervously.
“Easy, brother, easy,” I said to him.
“This stuff gets to me sometimes and I feel like I’m going to get an ulcer, you know,” he complained.
“I get it, I get it, but calm down, deputy, that’s what you always tell me,” I said with a smile. “Tables reversed?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he answered with a chuckle.
Dan came across and said, “Let’s take the exit and look around if that’s okay.”
I didn’t say anything but put the truck in gear and slowly pulled onto the exit. We went by the bulk store, the church and then into town. The ranch store was coming up and I pulled into the parking lot and waited for the other three vehicles. I shut my truck off and sat, listening. We didn’t see or hear anything. The five of us got out of our trucks and stretched, such as we could with all the accoutrements weighing us down.
“Shucks,” Jeff said, “I was hoping to get to use this thing,” he complained, hefting the thumper.
“Don’t let your guard down, brother, my nipples itch so something’s amiss,” Jack said.
“Maybe a storm front is coming in,” Dave said, “My scar on the back of my head itches when a storm is coming.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said, surprised I learned something new about Dave.
“He’s a barometer, not to mention Jack’s nipples,” Jeff said and started laughing, as did all of us.
“What’s this place?” Dan asked me.
“It’s a farm and ranch store,” I said. “I need some bailing wire and they may have another case or two in the back. Dave and I’ll go get it. You guys need anything?”
“Does it have clothing?” Jack asked.
“Yep, sure does,” Dave, answered him.
“I’m in,” Jack said, turning for the door.
“Jeff, get the binos and scan the sky…watch for drones and if you see another, you know what to do,” Dan ordered.
Jeff turned, going to get a stinger from the trailer, stopping long enough to get his new binos out of his truck. He withdrew the second Stinger from the crate, affixed the control housing and laid the lethal weapon back on the case. He looked in all directions with his eyes then used his binos, slowly scanning in rectangular box movements.
Dan gave me a nudge and pointed to the store and the four of us went inside. Jack and Dan went to the clothing section and Dave and I went to the back and looked for bailing wire. I should have looked in Cheyenne but was so happy getting new trucks and trailers and the additional gear, I forgot. Dave found it and there were two crates. We got a cart and lifted the two heavy crates in. He found another box of the large log spikes. They would come in handy also.
Dan and Jack went by with carts full of clothing. Jack would spell Jeff on the watch and let him come in and ‘shop.’ They headed out and we’d said we would be along in just a bit. I collected the last of the three-inch screws that were on hand. They were always useful, and we headed for the front door.
The three Marines were huddled together looking through binoculars at the sky. All three were focused in a single direction so I looked up that way and didn’t see anything. With the naked eye, a drone five miles up would be nearly impossible to see. I wondered if they had one in focus with their binos and asked that as we pulled up.
“DOWN! EVERYONE DOWN, NOW!” Dan yelled as he dropped to the ground.
Jeff and Jack hit the deck faster than we did. Dave and I, not expecting the warning, were a half-second later than they and that is what sent us flying across the parking lot when the missile hit just behind my trailer, lifting the trailer off the ground and spilling most of the contents all around.
Dave and I were both unconscious. The three Marines took charge, with Jeff picking up the stinger, quickly finding the drone and firing. Jack had gone to Dave and Dan came to me, rolling me over, checking my pulse.
The Stinger missile found the drone even though it had fired flares. Jeff had kept his guidance marker on the unmanned aircraft and watched as the missile hit. “I wonder how many more of those things those guys have?” he asked an uninterested audience.
“Med kit, now,” Dan yelled at him and he dropped the spent missile tube and ran to my truck for the kit. The back windshield was blown out, with glass everyw
here inside. He got the med kit and ran back to Dan, who bandaged a small head injury I’d received that was bleeding profusely. Jack said Dave had a few cuts but other than that and being unconscious, he was fine. Jeff took him some small band-aids and bandages and stopped the blood flow on Dave.
Dan went to my truck and got a few bottles of water and opening one, poured a bit of the cold fluid on my face, wiping dirt and debris away with a gauze pad. They did the same for Dave then dragged the two of us into the shade of Jeff’s truck.
Damage to my truck was light, just the window for the most part. It had been blown out by the concussion of the blast. The trailer, however, was busted up pretty good and would be a loss. The left tire had disintegrated, and the left rear of the trailer was bent upward at an angle. It was toast.
Dave was first to wake up. They helped him sit up and he said, “Someone stop the world from spinning, will ya.”
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Jeff, said, laughing. “Go ahead and puke if you need to, brother.” That got Dave to laughing.
I moaned and tried to roll over, but Dan held me down. “Be still a moment and let your body catch up with your brain. The dizziness will pass in a while, just give it a chance.” They helped me sit up against Jeff’s truck and the dizziness was intense.
Jeff said the same thing to me, and I laughed, but still felt like puking. Dave and I sat together in the shade while Dan gave us the news that they had downed the second drone, but my truck had suffered by the blast. He told me my trailer was toast and I’d need another one.
“Behind the store,” I mumbled.
“What?” Jeff asked. “Say that again…”
“Behind the store,” I said again.
“What’s behind the store?” Jeff asked lifting and looking that way.
“Trailers…there’s more of ‘em back there,” I stammered.
“Trailers behind the store,” Jeff yelled to Dan and Jack. The two of them walked over to the gate, undid the wire we used to keep it closed, went back, saw the trailers, and were satisfied. They selected one and Jack ran around to my truck, unhooked the damaged trailer, dropping it where it was. He drove around to the back and Dan hooked up the new trailer then pulled up next to the destroyed one.
I'm Tired of Zombies | Book 2 | Full Scale War Page 30