The Fall of America: Fatal Encounters (Book 2)

by W. R. Benton

  No sooner had the Sergeant turned, than the point man took a step forward and a loud explosion filled the morning air. Durchenko was knocked to his face in the mud and there came loud screams, as debris from the mine fell from the sky. Slowly sitting up, his ears bleeding, the Master Sergeant looked around and saw over half of his men down. Unable to hear, the sergeant moved to the prone radio man and said, “Call the helicopter and ask if he can pick up the most severely injured.”

  When the man didn't raise his head, he turned the man over and discovered he was bleeding from his throat and as dead as it gets. Picking up the headset, the Sergeant said, “I have been wounded and cannot hear you. I am the ranking man on the ground and need you to take my wounded out without delay. I will need another aircraft, as I have many wounded. If you understand, move to my position now.”

  He grinned as the helicopter turned and made his way to him. Durchenko looked around, saw an uninjured private and yelled, “You, private, come and speak to the helicopter, it is time for you to earn your first medal. Come now, and be a hero.”

  He watched the private communicating with the aircraft and felt a dull pain starting in his lower back and his legs. He moved his hand to the spot on his back and when done, he noticed blood on his hand. The helicopter started slowly descending until the right skid was near the bank.

  When the seriously wounded were gone, Durchenko said, “Get some defenses set up and cover our asses. The second aircraft will be here soon.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Margie made her way to John, touched his right foot and said, “I have movement, but I won't swear it's not a gator.”

  “It's okay to wake me. I'd rather you wake me than get me killed. Let's move to your window and check out the movement.”

  They moved to the window together, but John saw nothing, initially. He squinted his eyes in an effort to see better, only no luck. He waited, patiently. Finally, he saw movement and it looked to be human, too. If it was a person, they were injured, because they appeared to be crawling. John expected an attacker to be bent at the waist to make a smaller target, not crawling.

  “I'm goin' out there.” John said a few minutes later. A long finger of lightning flashed across the dark sky, followed by a sharp crack of thunder, and Dolly growled.

  In the flash of lightning, Margie saw blood on the fallen form outside, and said, “Go, I'll cover you. I didn't see a uniform on the person.”

  “Dolly, stay.” He commanded, and then stepped over the fallen door and made his way to the porch. Rain was falling with more force now, and the winds blowing hard as he stepped from the protection of the porch. He made his way to the downed person and, once there, rolled them onto their back. He saw a bullet hole high in the woman's left shoulder and it'd gone all the way through, because he'd seen the exit wound before he rolled her over.

  Picking her up, she might have weighed a hundred and twenty pounds; John carried her to the house over his shoulder. He used caution on the steps, because they were weak, and he didn't want to fall through. He stepped over the door and carried her into the living room. He placed her on a blanket Margie had placed on the floor.

  Turning to Margie, he said, “Look her over closely and treat her injury, because I need to get back to the window.”

  “I've been well trained, thanks to your wife, so I'll do what I can for this woman.”

  John moved to the window, sat on the floor and scanned the swamp. He saw little, due to the rain, except he knew it would be a good time to attack someone. Bad weather covered movements and approaches well, and if attacked, he'd not likely know it until the last second. Dolly moved to him and placed her head in his lap. He scratched her ears.

  Margie removed the woman's boonie hat, shirt, and bra. She saw the path of the bullet had hit high, into the shoulder muscle, and not the bone. Pulling some medical supplies from her first aid pouch, she cleaned the entrance and exit wounds well, removing bits of clothing and other debris. Satisfied with her work, she wiped the injuries down with some alcohol pads and then bandaged the wound. Unless the wound became infected, she'd live.

  She noticed the woman was young, still in her twenties, short blond hair, attractive, but not beautiful, and was about five feet six inches tall. Her face was covered in mud and grime, so Margie washed her face and hands. There, she looks better already, she thought, only she's lost a lot of blood.

  Margie then moved to John and said, “She's still out, due to shock and blood loss, I think. The bullet passed through the meaty portion of her shoulder, so she'll live. You can go back to sleep now.”

  John stood, yawned, and then said, “I'll do that.” He handed her the AK-47.

  With the coming of dawn it was still raining as hard as ever, but the wind was less forceful. John stood from in front of the window, stretched and then picked up his weapon. Making his way to the living room he asked, “How's our visitor?”

  “I . . . I'm awake.”

  He squatted beside her and said, “I'm John, and the woman with me is Margie. You've been shot in the shoulder, but should survive. Now, who are you?”

  “I'm called Sue, but it ain't my real name, only that's not important. I'm a member of the resistance, my commanders full name is Colonel Willy Williams, and you should know him.”

  “I know Willy and Top; are they both well?”

  “They were the last time I saw them.”

  “What happened out there, Sue?”

  “We attacked a small group of Russians in a wooded area just south of the swamps. There were ten of us and once I was hit, I crawled under some brush to hide, and after a few minutes I passed out. When I awoke, my cell was gone and a large group of Russians were unloading from choppers. I made my way into the trees and then the rains came.”

  “How'd ya get here?”

  “Before the fall, I was an avid photographer and I wrote articles for a living. I'd been here before and had photographed the house many times.”

  “Which direction did you approach the house from, because I had mines on the southern trail?”

  “From the west, the only way I know how to get here. I'm sure there are many trails that lead here, but that's the only way I know.”

  Margie asked, “Are you in pain?”

  “Some, but not much we can do about that right now.”

  “I have some morphine I can give you for the pain, but it'll wipe you out.”

  “Use it, so maybe I can get some sleep, if it's safe here.”

  “It's as safe as it ever gets these days, which means our security is marginal at best. Take the drug, rest, and we'll leave in the morning.”

  No sooner had Margie administered the drug than the wop-wop of helicopters was heard off in the distance. John ran from the house, with Dolly behind him, and stood under a large tree, watching the two aircraft flying circles, to the south of them. After a few minutes, one of the aircraft slowly lowered until it was out of sight, but a few minutes later, he spotted it rising in the air. It continued up until it gained altitude and then flew to the south. Then, as he watched the second chopper did the same.

  He walked into the house and said, “I think someone triggered one of my traps. I just watched two aircraft descend into the swamp and then leave a few minutes later. Then again, they may have been delivering supplies, so I'll go check it out.”

  “John,” Margie said, “watch your ass out there, because if they resupplied some folks they'll be armed for bear.”

  “Well, I doubt it was a resupply, because if anyone is on our ass, they've only been trailing us for less than a day. Now, they may have been unloading more troops, but I don't think so. The birds I watched were in and out fast, like they do when they pick up wounded. I'll take no risks, but I'll leave Dolly with you.”

  John donned his poncho and left with the AK-47 in his hands.

  The rain eased up and he moved through the mud to the booby-trap, except he didn't like the tracks he left in the muck. On the way back, I'll have to cover my trac
ks or they might be seen from the air.

  When he neared the spot he'd placed the booby-trap, he slowed and scanned the area, but saw no one. Cautiously he moved forward, his weapon's safety off and his finger resting on the trigger. Glancing at the trail ahead, he saw a small crater where his mine had exploded. He stopped short of the crater and scanned the area. He saw part of a human hand, a foot still inside a laced up boot, and some discarded bandages. The blood had mostly washed away, leaving puddles of pink on the ground and pink stains on the bandages. However, by looking at the size of the pink bandage stains, some of the men had been hit hard. He knew from experience some men died, but it was hard to tell how many.

  He pulled a stick from the water and began to move it from side-to-side in his muddy tracks as he moved back toward the house. The scratching of the mud alone would draw attention, but he hoped the falling rain would soon wash away all sign of his passing.

  Margie was guarding at the front window when he returned and gave him a questioning look when he entered.

  Removing his poncho, he said, “Our booby-trap exploded at some point today, but with the thunder we've had, we didn't hear the explosion. I have no way of knowing how many men were hurt, but I suspect a squad or two were taken out by choppers.”

  “I thought one mine couldn't do that kind of damage to a group of men.”

  “I had one Claymore mine using a tripwire and the second mine was an anti-personnel mine, pressure detonated. I rigged them so if the second mine exploded, the Claymore would also. I thought they'd find the tripwire easily, mark it, and then step over the wire. I planted the anti-personnel mine about a foot behind the wire.”

  “Nasty, huh?”

  “Most of the blood had washed away, but they left some body parts behind. How's our new troop?”

  “Sue is sleeping well, but she should be after I gave her the morphine. I think we can leave in the morning.”

  “We need a guard at this window all the time we're here. None of us should go outside either, in case they have choppers out looking for us. That means if you have to use the toilet, find an empty room to do your business. Tonight, we'll eat an early supper and then put the fire out. It's very possible they'll have infrared aircraft flying around looking for us. Gunships and helicopters both carry the technology, but we want to avoid discovery if possible, so stay inside. NVG's I'm not too worried about, because we'll be indoors.”

  “Comforting thought, huh?”

  John gave a low chuckle and replied, “Unless they spot this place and put men on the ground to look it over, we're safe enough. From what I saw when I neared, there are plenty of tree limbs, moss and other vegetation on the roof of this house. The roof almost looks like a brush pile.”

  “How good is the infrared equipment the Russians have? Do you think it could pick up our body heat inside this place?”

  “Honestly?” John asked and then said, “I have no idea. I know just before the fall, the United States had some awesome stuff, but I couldn't tell you about the Russians. If they're like most military units, some of their gear will be new and some old.”

  “What now?”

  “I'll eat and get a bit more sleep.”

  “I've got the window, so relax and rest.”

  Morning arrived with Sue still in pain, but not the deep pain she'd had the day before. Overnight she'd had a fever, but it broke about an hour after dawn. She was awake now, eating a breakfast of biscuits with chocolate and hazelnut paste smeared on top. A canteen cup of hot instant coffee was sitting beside her legs. The whole meal was part of a Russian ration.

  John asked, “No dizziness or faint feelings when you used the toilet this morning?”

  “No, nothing. Only I hardly call peeing on the floor of an old bedroom a toilet.” She gave a big smile.

  Margie said, “It passes for one here. We're walking out today, so if you start to feel faint or dizzy, let one of us know.”

  John said, “We leave in a few minutes. The rain stopped early last evening, but we'll have some mud to deal with during the whole walk. Once out of the swamp, we'll travel overland as quickly as we can, and avoid all trails. It's still cloudy, so I expect more rain at some point today, which is good, because it will wash our tracks away.”

  Ten minutes later they were moving down a muddy path toward the west. John didn't want to use the same trail to leave that they'd used to enter the swamp, in case it was mined or an ambush was waiting for them. He remembered an old sergeant who once said, “Never enter and leave by the same route, because your enemies may wait and ambush you. Always leave by a different path.”

  Nothing was seen and little was heard, except for the occasional low splash as something entered the water from a log or from the trail. The sky remained overcast, and Margie prayed they'd not have to sleep in the swamp overnight. Just the thought of snakes and alligators filled her with anxiousness.

  It was shortly after noon, when John called for a short ten minute break and they'd just left the swamp. Sue was holding up well and hadn't complained of pain, but he suspected she was hurting. Margie must have thought the same, because she removed two over the counter pain relievers and said, “Wash these down with some water. Once we get back to our base, we have something a little stronger for you.”

  “If you want to eat, do the job now, because we'll leave in ten minutes.”

  Walking to an oak tree with Sue following, Margie removed her pack and sat in the damp grass. Sue, due to pain, sat closer to the tree and leaned back against the rough gray bark.

  John ate a can of pork, washing it down with a tonic drink, and then for dessert, jam on a biscuit. He then fed Dolly beef stew and a biscuit. Once she'd finished eating, he glanced at his watch, and said, “Saddle up, we need to be moving.”

  For hours they kept a fast walk and the miles disappeared behind them. Finally, nearing a blacktopped road, John said, “We cross one at a time, on a run. Once near the edge of the roadway, jump as far into the grass as you can. That way we'll leave no tracks in the mud beside the roadway. I'll come last, so I can cover the sign we'll leave passing through.”

  Margie was just about to make a mad dash across the road when Sue said, “Stop, because I hear something.”

  “I hear it too, now, but I didn't a second ago. Here,” he handed her Dolly's leash and added, “take her, and she'll jump at the same time you do. She'll offer you a bit more protection once you're on the other side. Now wait and let's see what's causing the noise.”

  A lone motorcycle rode over a slight hill in the road moving south at a good speed. Then a few seconds later a convoy approached. They counted ten trucks and still they waited, to see if another motorcycle was riding drag. After almost ten minutes, John said, “Go.”

  Margie ran across the road and at the end, leaped high into the air, landing beyond some brush, with Dolly at her side.

  Looking at Sue, John asked, “Ready?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Go!”

  Her run was almost an exact copy of Margie's and she landed on the other side of the brush as well.

  John had just broken cover and was almost to the middle of the road when a motorcycle, moving south at a high rate of speed suddenly appeared over the hill. The encounter spooked both men, but John recovered first and fired three rounds at the bike. The motorcycle fell to its side and slid down the road with the rider's left leg trapped under it. It came to rest about twenty feet from John, who approached, shot the rider the head, and then took most of the man's gear. He then slipped an ace of spades card into the dead man's mouth.

  Then he made tracks in the mud from the side of the road toward the bushes on the side he'd just left, hoping to confuse any Russians. Hopefully they'd head the wrong direction, the way they'd come. He realized it'd not fool a good tracker, not for long anyway, but might buy him a few minutes of precious time.

  Going back to the dead rider, he picked up the man's pistol, a Makarov PMM, and PP-19, “Bison” sub-machine gun, with th
e magazine pouch, and oil can. Then, he placed the pistol in his trouser cargo pocket and the four spare magazines in his shirt pocket. It was then he noticed a dispatch pouch, so he picked it up and threw the sling around his shoulder. He placed his AK-47 strap around his neck and carried the Bison as he joined the others.

  Once with the others, he handed his AK-47, along with spare magazines to Sue as he said, “You take this. Are you familiar with using it?”

  “It's what I carried before, but lost it during the ambush, or else my cell took it with them. I remember having it before I blacked out.”

  “Follow me and we'll take the long road back home.”

  An hour before dark, they neared the cellar and John called out. Tom stuck his head from the doorway and replied, “Come on in! We thought you'd been captured.”

  “No, but it was close for a bit there.” John said as he left the trees and made for the cellar. Seeing no guard he asked, “Surely you have a guard posted?”

  “Kate's watching and you can be sure she had you in the cross-hairs of her 30.06 for a few seconds. She has a new sniper rifle, a VSS Vintorez, with a case of 9X39 mm SP-5 cartridges, but hasn't sighted it in yet. The information we have is it will penetrate body armor. She was given five, ten round, magazines to go with the rifle and even a NSPUM-3 night vision sight. I've been carrying the night vision sight to scan the area with after dark.”

  “Did Santa Claus come to visit?”

  “Nope; Willy blew up a convoy and they discovered a shitload of these sniper rifles, along with ammo and sights. A group passing through this area gave the rifle, ammo and gear to her. Apparently, Willy sends out groups in general directions hoping they make contact with folks like us.”

  Margie approached, handed her burlap bag of food to Tom and said, “Have someone put us a decent meal together, because I'm worn out.”

  He grinned and said, “Come on in, and John, I know a woman's who has been worried sick about you.”

  Later, over a meal of fresh beef stew, the first in years for many of them, John gave an update and then had Margie tell her tale of the town of Edwards. When the prison camps were explained and the poster announcing the executions shown, Tom shook his head.