by W. R. Benton
The Fall of America
Book 2 - Fatal Encounters
W.R. Benton
ISBN 978-1-939812-43-8
Kindle Edition 1.1
© Copyright 2014 W.R. Benton
All Rights Reserved
Ebook Production by Loose Cannon Enterprises
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author and/or the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Author Photos © Copyright 2012, Melanie D. Calvert
© Contents Copyright 2014 by W.R. Benton
© Cover layout & design Copyright 2014 by www.dancingfoxpublishing.com
Cover Photo by Shutterstock.com used with permission
Edited by: Daniel Williams & Bobbie La Cour
Books by W.R. Benton
The Fall of America: Book 2, Fatal Encounters
Hell Comes to Dixie
Adrift (Young Adult Fiction — Survival)
The Fall of America: Book 1, Premonition of Death
Nate Grisham, Black Mountain Man (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Nate Grisham, Black Mountain Man, in Renegade Trapper (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Red Runs the Plain
Fur Seekers (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Jake Masters: Bounty Hunter
Missouri in Flames, I Rode with Jesse James
War Paint
Bubba's Dawg Might be a Redneck (Southern Humor)
Silently Beats the Drum
James McKay, U. S. Army Scout
Alive and Alone (Young Adult Fiction – Survival)
- Also available as Audio Edition
Simple Survival, A Family Outdoors Guide
Impending Disasters
Dedication
WR Benton
To Gunny MzTrouble Stitch, James Smithson, Bob Allen, Chick Jones, Zilka M Bodon, Tom Croswell, and MaryAnn Hall, good friends on Facebook and good people.
A special dedication to Jo Ella Baker Glenn, Gayle Medders Hadaway, and Susie Walton, three caring women who are always there when I need someone to listen.
A Note from the Author
Many folks who read “Fall of America: Premonition of Death” asked why I had shotguns as the primary weapons used by the main characters. There are a number of reasons, but the principal one is the cost of assault rifles versus shoguns. Additionally, the most commonly found long gun in American homes today is a shotgun. Shotgun empties can easily be reloaded quickly and at a much cheaper cost and ease than rifle shells. The shotgun has choke and every single time you pull the trigger, you create a cone of fire filled with lead, with different types of chokes controlling your spread. Anyone hit within the pattern of fire will feel the shot, although it may not kill your adversary, depending on shot placement and distance, along with other factors. Shotguns can also fire lead slugs, which many folks have used historically to hunt deer. Slugs have fair accuracy, but nothing like a rifle. Additionally, since I prep for survival, it just makes good horse sense to me to stick to the more commonly found weapons, because if push comes to shove, the most common ammo found following a collapse will be for these weapons. Also, a shotgun can be sawed off, which is hard to beat in clearing rooms or in close contact with an enemy.
If a fall or collapse does happen in the future, most of us will be stuck with what we have on hand, so we'll either die or survive with what we own, can steal, or take from the dead hands of our enemies. I suspect military weapons will quickly make an appearance, but only after folks have gathered together and organized to fight for freedom. I suspect, little by little, weapons will change as they're taken along with ammunition, following raids, killings, and hijacked truck convoys.
There were also some doubts a man would cry over the death of his dog and then viciously maim a man for life during an interrogation. I happen to be a man that loves my dogs dearly, which I cannot say about many people I've met. I strongly suspect, when the end comes, folks will love their pets even more than now, because animals give us unconditional love and ask nothing in return and love will be hard to find. Actually, simple kindness will disappear. Interrogations will be crude and bloody affairs and don't think they won't be. When lives may depend on information gathered, and quickly, the means will justify the end. Human life will be of little value, but knowledge of what a potential enemy may have planned will be great wealth. I, for one, will do what it takes to get information needed to protect myself and family.
WR Benton
Jackson, Mississippi
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
About the Author
"The government is merely a servant –merely a temporary servant; it cannot be its prerogative to determine what is right and what is wrong, and decide who is a patriot and who isn't. Its function is to obey orders, not originate them."
—Mark Twain
What is the series “The Fall of America” about?
What if it all came crashing down?
It started with the biggest stock market crash in history. Banks closed down under the weight of their bogus investments, and the financial sector failed. People looked to the government to make it all better. However, they couldn't. Hyper-inflation, mass unemployment and infrastructure started to breakdown. The food trucks didn't show up at the stores, and the shelves went empty.
Things turned ugly fast when there was no power for long parts of the day —then forever. Cops, doctors, and trash collectors just stopped showing up for work when the paychecks were delayed too often, or never came. Things started falling apart quickly after that. Whole regions declared a "State of Emergency" in an effort to maintain order and civility, but it wasn't always enough. Starvation, looting and murder became the norm. Then, our American civilization collapsed completely.
The Fall of America, Book 1: Premonition of Death is the beginning of a new series, about an average man who's life goes downhill fast, once society breaks down. Set in the rural south, a scorched-earth showdown with some local thugs leaves John and his wife homeless, and on the run. He encounters a member of a survivalist group, made up of former military personnel, and joining them may be his only hope. Just basic survival becomes vicious, resistance is at any cost, as the devastated country comes under new siege—invading Russian troops
BOOK 2
Fatal Encounters
CHAPTER 1
John was glad the prisoner exchange had gone fairly well, but they'd lost Colonel Parker, and picked up a large group of civilians, which would hinder the group more than help in most cases.
It meant more mouths to feed, and it's harder to hide a large group in the woods or their movements on a trail. Both feeding and hiding them were serious problems now. If Willy assumed command, which John was sure he would, then he'd release the people they'd saved. He just hoped they'd be smart enough not to return to the same location the Russians had originally captured them in. They'd weed through them and keep those with prior military training and those with medical experience. The rest would be released and sadly, have to fend for themselves.
John had a few wounded with him; most were still bleeding, because they'd not stopped to properly treat their wounds. The most serious were left behind for the medical folks and the ones with him were walking wounded. They treated themselves as they walked. John prayed the med techs would find the injured before the Russians did, or they'd be murdered in cold blood.
No one was sure of the number of dead, but he was heartbroken by the thought his wife, Sandra, might have been killed. Tom had been an old buddy of his for years too, and his death would bother John more than just a little. Slow down, he thought, you have no idea if they've been killed or not. If they've not been injured severely, they'll return if they're not captured. We'll know something in a couple of days, if not sooner.
Kate dropped back beside him and said, “I don't know what you're thinking about, and really don't care, but pull your head out of your ass. You're to be watching the right side of the path and you're not doing your job worth a damn. Your dog is doing a better job than you.”
“I was wondering if my wife survived the chopper attack is all.”
Her eyes narrowed as she said, “Do it after we get back.”
He nodded and then said, “Listen. Do you hear that?”
Kate suddenly commanded in a loud voice, “Off the trail and into the woods, now!”
As they ran for the relative safety of the trees John said, “It's a chopper and I suspect they're looking for us.”
“Once in the trees, spread out and lay flat. No movement at all.” She yelled once more, and all could hear the “wop-wop” of the chopper blades growing louder.
John moved into the trees and lay flat on the short grasses that covered the area, Dolly lay beside him and her even breathing was comforting. He hoped the tree limbs would hide them. Then his mind switched quickly to Kate and her earlier comments. She's right, and I should be paying more attention. These folks have never been soldiers, so I need to keep a clear mind, he thought. John switched the safety off on his AK-47 and waited. He'd picked the weapon up after attacking an air base some months back.
The chopper twisted and turned as it flew in a lazy box pattern, looking for any movement on the ground below them. John grew anxious and tense, but there was nothing he could do but wait. When he glanced at Kate, she smiled and winked; he felt it was done to give him confidence, not as a flirt. She'd been flirting with him for months.
Suddenly, one of the rescued men on the right stood and started running through the trees. John suspected the stress of hiding was too much for him to bare any longer. When he'd traveled about fifty yards, a machine gun in the chopper gave a loud tat, tat, tat, and dirt flew high all around the man.
The man turned and opened fire with his pistol, which was really a wasted gesture as the machine gun coughed a few times and the man screamed, as his body flew apart. When his head separated from his torso, John suspected the crew would not land to check him over. He was a confirmed kill for the crew and hopefully they'd move on, looking for other easy targets.
Everyone could hear a woman crying from near where the man had been hidden, but John was absolutely sure the man was blown to pieces. Knowing the chopper crew couldn't hear him, he yelled out, “Stop the crying. Remain as quiet as you can.” Crying, regardless if it came from a wounded person, or a wife full of grief, got on the nerves of others. If others lost their nerve and ran, they'd not get far either.
The crew didn't land, and after about ten minutes they flew on. John stood, flipped the safety back on, and hung his weapon over his shoulder. “Kate,” he called out, “check the man and let me know his condition.”
She moved forward cautiously, as if she expected the chopper to return. Ten minutes later she neared and said with a flat voice, “He's dead. I stripped him of his weapon, ammo, and anything else he had on him of importance, which wasn't much.”
“Get us moving again and pick up the pace. As you move, listen for aircraft.” He turned to his dog, “Come, Dolly.”
As she turned Kate replied, “Will do.”
The remainder of the trip to the base camp was uneventful, yet stressful for all. They'd expected the chopper to return any minute, but the one attack was all they experienced. John heard some gunfire off in the distance but let it go, because he had too many inexperienced folks with him to even think of attempting to help someone else.
Just a short distance from base camp, he stopped the group and sent Kate forward to check the place out. John wanted to make sure it was safe, because they'd stirred up a complete hornets nest by returning the mutilated Russian officers, and revenge would be swift. While he'd not agreed with Parker's decision to remove a body part each time Russian troops killed Americans, he'd been the commander and his decision was law. John had hardened over the last few years and honestly couldn't say what he would've done in Parker's shoes.
Kate quickly returned and said, “Looks fine. Our guards are still in place, people are coming and going from the main building, so I think things are safe enough.”
“I'll enter alone, just to make sure. If it's clear, I'll wave you in. Willy wants us to break up into small numbers, no larger than ten people, because he's expecting the hunt to get hotter. We'll wait here for him to return and then find out if he still wants to do that.”
“Okay, sounds good to me. I'll hold these people back and wait for you to wave. What about the dog?”
“Dolly, stay with Kate.” He commanded and the big German Shepherd sat, looking at Kate.
He moved forward slowly, searching for anything out of place. It was very possible the Russians may have taken the place over and then dressed their folks to look like part of the resistance. He'd know as soon as he could speak with one. There's a guard on the left, about fifty feet, he thought, and slipped his safety off.
He neared the man and when he turned to see John, he smiled and asked, “Ya the last of the bunch? We have few of y'all already, but from the stories we heard, we lost a lot of folks.”
Obviously he'd seen the two inch yellow material still tied around John's sleeve. He knew the guard was American by his Southern accent. He was thin, like most of them, which was a good sign. John still approached him carefully, because his trust in others wasn't what it once was. It could be he was a redneck working for the Russians, so he'd take no chances until he checked the whole place and satisfied his concerns.
“Y'all have any problems while we were gone?” John asked.
“None, but did have a chopper fly over, oh, 'bout an hour ago.”
“Do you think the bird saw anything?”
“No, we were well hidden and if they'd seen anything, I think we'd have taken a few rockets from 'em, to tell ya the truth.”
“I need to enter, any problem with that?”
“None, have at 'er. You'll find the same folks ya left here and nothin' has changed, but yer a cautious man and I respect that.”
He walked across the compound and into the building. Things were just as he'd last seen them and he recognized many faces. John walked back to the guard, waved his hand, and then said, “Small group coming in, so relax when you see them.”
“Yer an army man, because of the way ya checked this place out. I'm James, but called Bubba, and spent a few years in the army myself, but it was a long time ago.”
“I was airborne.”
“Me too, until I got out. I started to stay in, but got out and went to school on the G.I. Bill.”
John glanced at Bubba and guessed him on the high side
of his fifties, lean, dressed in a mix of different kinds of clothing, and carrying a 12 gauge pump, with a 9 mm at his waist. He looked to be an easy enough going man, but it remained to be seen if he had any sand in his craw.
The group followed Kate past Bubba and into the building, but Dolly walked to John's side.
“Is Colonel Williams back yet?”
“Yep, but the last I saw he was calling some of the brass into a room for a meeting. It's the same meeting room Colonel Parker used.”
“I need to get there, then.”
“Good luck in the coming days; it's goin' to turn ugly, real ugly.”
When he neared the room, a guard outside the door said, “Go on in, John, the meeting hasn't started yet.”
“Thanks, Fred.”
Dolly and John entered, he took a chair, while she laid beside him on the hardwood floor.
Willy was standing in front and when John entered, he'd nodded at him, and then waited. Once seated the Colonel said, “Our mission was a success and our losses low; well, lower than expected. Since Colonel Parker was killed, I've taken command. The Russian's will increase the tempo now and we can expect retribution to be brutal, fast, and with few prisoners taken. We have embarrassed the great Russian bear and he's pissed.”
“Are we to still break into small squad sizes and move into the countryside?” A man we all called Lew asked. Lew was short for his given name, Lewis.
“Yep, but we're going to assign folks based on skills to individual units. That means your current teams may be changed a great deal or maybe not at all. I've made an effort to get a medic and sniper assigned to each group, but that may not be possible.”
“What about Tom and Sandra?” John asked, and then continued, “Any word on them?”
Willy grinned and said, “The last word I had, which was on the trail moving this way, is both survived, but sustained injuries. Neither was injured severely, so relax. Over the next few days, we'll have more and more folks returning. Some are with injured folks, so they'll naturally move slowly, and others are making a few surprises for our Russian friends.”