Fire From the Sky: Firestorm

by N. C. Reed

  “We do,” Tandi nodded. “We actually have everything we would have had if we were deploying somewhere long term,” he added, letting Clay know what all they had acquired. “On top of that, we tried to think of whatever we might face in the aftermath, and then we went shopping for what we needed to fight it. We've got what we need,” he assured his boss.

  “Get the inventory if you don't already have it, and then we’ll see about stashing gear in different places as needed. If nothing else we can take one of those trailers and camouflage it somewhere out behind the barns, or even up at the cabins. It just has to be somewhere it can't be broken into. Hell, we could bury it, I guess,” he mused. “Might be safer in the long run anyway.”

  “Vicki, take an ATV and go get Kade and Corey up at the cabins. Once you have them with you, make a circuit of the ranch, especially the road approaches, make sure we're clear. The three of you are on security today, at least for now. We need some of the civilians on watch in their areas, but I want real security up and running around the clock from now on. Have the work lists reworked to exclude all of us from any work details not directly related to security. That includes working to harden this place. We've got plans on standby I know, so now is the time to get them up and going. Today is just the start, you can bet.”

  “We knew it was coming,” Jose Juarez pointed out. “Just not when.”

  “When started today,” Clay nodded. “Lets you and I start looking at where we need hard points. Quicker we can get them established the better.” He looked at Tully who was still waiting to be dismissed.

  “Make sure you guys hit the whole perimeter,” he told her. “We need to make sure no one is watching our preparations.”

  “What do we do if we find anyone?” she asked.

  “Depends. If the boys know who they are, and think they're okay, bring them in. If you think they're salvageable, bring them in. Otherwise, kill 'em. We're at war now, it looks like. There's no sense taking chances.”

  “Yes sir,” Tully said simply and departed, calling for Kade and Corey on the radio.

  “Make sure that everything is moving along,” Clay ordered Jose.

  “We not gonna make the rounds?” Jose asked.

  “We will when I get back,” Clay assured him.

  “Where you going?”

  “I gotta go brief the Old Man.”

  –

  “Autry, huh,” Leon sat back in his chair. “Well, shit,” he muttered.

  “What?” Clay asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Well, I might know that turd myself,” Leon admitted. “He's a low-level low-life that liked to try and horn in where he wasn't wanted. I've had to slap him upside the head more 'n once. Well, I had it done,” he amended. “He doesn't take enough slapping that I needed someone like you for that,” he winked and Clay laughed in spite of the situation.

  “Well, he managed himself a cushy job until he come here,” Clay pointed out.

  “That he did,” Leon mused. “Almost makes me wonder why he never got anywhere before the lights went out. Then again, most of the people in his way were gone after a week or two. Me included.” Leon studied his grandson intently for a few seconds.

  “What are you thinking, Leon?” Clay asked with no small amount of trepidation.

  “Nothing, really,” Leon sighed. “I just wish I had thought all this out a little further, that's all.”

  “By which you mean…?”

  “I should have planned to be running this damn county after the lights failed,” Leon admitted. “I should have thought about how many problems there was gonna be and made plans for 'em. I used to do it.”

  “That's a tall order, Old Man,” Clay said softly. “And we had our hands full here,” he reminded his grandfather.

  “Which is probably one reason I didn't do it,” Leon admitted. “Too damn much work. Still, in hindsight I could have dealt with all this a mile or so better.”

  “I've had the same thoughts, but they don't do me any good now,” Clay agreed. “Here's how it is for now, though,” he began to fill Leon in on his plans. His grandfather nodded on occasion as he listened and when Clay finished Leon leaned forward a bit.

  “Sounds like you got that part of it settled good,” he agreed. “What are you planning on doing if they head out here with a whole army?”

  “I'm gonna kill 'em,” was Clay's simple response.

  “All of 'em?” Leon asked with a raised brow. “No matter how many or who they are?”

  “I don't see that it matters who they are or how many,” Clay replied. “Not if they make themselves our enemy. What else you want me to do?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Be a neat trick if we could get an outfit like that on our own side,” Leon's shoulders rose and fell slightly as he settled back in his chair once more. “In whole or in part. Couple cows and a few bushels of grain at harvest time in exchange for say. . .a quarter of their take and not killing all of 'em?”

  “Are you serious?” Clay demanded.

  “Boy, you have got to learn to look at every angle,” Leon sounded exasperated. “I ain't gonna live no whole lot longer, Clayton, and someone is gonna have to start doing some damn thinking around here when I'm gone. Too much to ask of your father, and your brother is no better. Don't even get me started on your sister. That leaves you, boy. Someone has got to be in charge, and there ain't nobody else around here capable of it. Like it or not, you're elected.”

  “I don't like it,” Clay almost growled.

  “I done just said you liking it or not ain't gonna matter,” Leon said flatly. “Now you go on and you do your lay outs and what not, but while you get prepared to kill half the county, how about you try and think of a way you could use that much manpower, alright? Start thinking about what you can do that will keep you from having to kill all of 'em and that will let you get some use out of 'em. I'm not saying you have to, or even that we can, but just. . .think on it. Use this as an exercise if nothing else, where you start thinking of solutions where 'kill 'em' ain't the go-to decision. Hear?”

  “I hear you,” Clay stood. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  –

  “You think I'm too prone to shoot first and not bother with questions?”

  Jose Juarez looked at his boss in mild surprise as the two traveled to look at sites where fortifications could be placed.

  “Ah, what. . .why would you. . .what brought that to mind just now?” Jose finally settled on.

  “I'm just asking,” Clay said, looking at Jose suspiciously. “And the fact that you didn't answer is probably my answer, ain't it?”

  “Well, no,” Jose fidgeted a little, “it's not always your go-to plan. Sometimes you do other things.”

  “Sometimes, or most times?” Clay pressed.

  “Well, that would depend on what you considered 'most times' now wouldn't it?” Jose came back with a question of his own.

  “So 'most times' I just decide to kill everybody then,” Clay raised an eyebrow.

  “I didn't say that,” Jose shook his head. “I mean, not exactly.”

  “Pancho, which is it,” Clay fought the urge to sigh. “The Old Man thinks my only answer to any problem is to kill it, whoever and however many of them there may be.”

  “Well, that. . .that wouldn't be inaccurate, really,” Jose was still trying to be diplomatic. Clay slammed on the brakes and the ATV slid to a halt.

  “Are you sure we ain't related at all?” Clay demanded. “Cause you sound a helluva lot like Leon, dodging like that.”

  “I dunno,” Jose shrugged. “Old Man ever get out to Phoenix?”

  “That was a rhetorical question,” Clay informed him. “Doesn't require an answer.”

  “Oh.”

  Clay started the ATV rolling again.

  “Would you say there was no other option today other than to get rid of that bunch?” he asked finally.

  “Sure,” Jose nodded. “They were shaking us down. We can't let them get away with that cra
p.”

  “Exactly!” Clay's right hand slapped the steering wheel. “That's exactly right. So, what was so wrong about doing that, then?”

  “Uh, I didn't say it was wrong,” Jose pointed out.

  “You agreed with the Old Man that I was too prone to violence as a first response,” Clay accused.

  “Now I don't recall using any such language as that,” Jose objected. “I did agree that you are sometimes prone to using violence as a first resort, but that's a far cry-”

  “So, you admit it, then,” Clay cut him off.

  “No, that ain't what I said,” Jose shook his head. “I just said there are times when there might accidentally be a non-violent sort of way out of a situation that you don't bother to consider. That's all.”

  “Well that sounds like you're telling me I am too prone to violence,” Clay spoke as if his point were made.”

  “Oh, this is gonna be a doozy of a day,” Jose muttered.

  “What's that?”

  “Nothing, Boss. Nothing.”

  –

  “. . .and there,” Mitch Nolan ordered.

  “Got it,” Gordy nodded as he and Zach carried another body from the truck and dropped it.

  “Have some respect,” Mitch ordered and Gordy frowned in puzzlement.

  “For them?” he bordered on incredulous.

  “No,” Mitch scoffed. “For the work you're doing. Don't just dump him so carelessly like that. Make it look like he died fighting valiantly for the cause.”

  “What cause?” Zach asked, looking around him as if said 'cause' would somehow be visible.

  “Cause he didn't want to die!” Mitch finally laughed. After a second Gordy joined him, shaking his head.

  “I don't get it,” Zach hated to admit. “What cause?”

  “Never mind,” Mitch waved him off. “Let’s get the rest of this set and get out of here. How many are left?”

  –

  “. . .and here,” Nate finished his report, pointing to another dot on his own map. “I think we can cover pretty much everything with these. And truth be known we can't cover much more than this, even with everyone geared up and going.”

  “That is true,” Clay agreed, looking at the proposed hard points. Log lined bunkers on each side of the ranch, another between the two, and two more flanking the cabins. One more behind the buildings at the Troy place and another behind the Sanders homes. Along with the tower, the cupolas and the platform on the cabin area water tower, they should form a pretty solid defense. There would be various smaller holes around the area to add to it, but these emplacements would form the bulk, the backbone of their defensive preparations.

  “We're gonna try and mount some motion sensors along the road about a mile or so in each direction,” Tandi added, Leon and Leanne nodding by his side. “Maybe scatter a few more around the ranch in places where someone could try and infiltrate. They're wireless so they should work on the local network assuming we can boost the signal, and we think we can. We can add a camera if we want, but the motion sensors can function as a trip wire, giving a light or even a tone when they're activated. We’ll differentiate them with color or sound so that we can recognize which direction we're getting traffic in without even looking.”

  “You know, we should have already done all this,” Clay rubbed his face in exasperation for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “This was all part of the original plan, as I recall.”

  “We had a lot more going on than we thought we would, Boss,” Mitchell Nolan offered as an explanation. “And if we're honest, once we figured out this wasn't going to be a nuclear war, well, we kinda got a little lazy.”

  “Yeah,” Nate Caudell agreed. “We settled in here for the winter as snug as a bug and acted like it would be like that from then on. Not so much.”

  “No, not so much,” Clay grimaced. He was as guilty as anyone and more so than most. “All right, we can't undo the fact that we haven't already done this, but we can rectify it now.” He paused for a minute before getting back on track.

  “Get with Ronny and start digging the holes,” Clay instructed. “Nate, I want you to keep watch over that and make sure the holes are the right dimensions. If you can make them more comfortable then do it. We may have to spend a lot of time in there.”

  “On it,” Nate gathered his notes and headed to where Ronny Tillman was already prepping his backhoe.

  “Tandi, you get that inventory?”

  “Already had it,” Tandi replied, offering Clay a notebook. Clay took it and began leafing through the pages. After rifling a few pages he stopped and looked up in minor shock.

  “Are you serious?”

  “No resupply, Boss,” Tandi shrugged. “And we had a lot of money. We bought any and everything we could think of that we might ever need because we couldn't get it later.”

  Clay looked back to the notebook and then shook his head.

  “Big John told me you had some gear, but damn,” he shook his head. “Where did you get all this?”

  “Big John knew a guy,” Tandi shrugged. “I just drove, Boss. Bear took care of the deals. Took several trips.”

  “Yeah, you can't really steal a battalion's worth of military hardware in just one night,” Clay responded with a snort. “But it's good that you got it,” he added finally. “Can I keep this to look over?”

  “Sure, or you can take this,” he offered a small tablet. “All of it is on here, too.”

  “I think I'll stick to paper,” Clay shook his head. “I'm going to get Abby to start digging in one of the empty trailers so we can get some of this stuff stored better.”

  “Could just build a larger bunker,” Tandi suggested. “Cut logs and build a larger version of these foxholes we're planning. All the gear is still in the cases so cold, heat, rain or whatever won't affect them.”

  “I had a shipping container,” Greg Holloway said, having walked up on them without being seen. He was slightly disappointed when neither of the other men started at his sudden appearance.

  “Too hard to get, now,” Clay shook his head. “Wish we had thought of it earlier though,” he admitted. “We are on lock down as of now. We go nowhere that we absolutely don't have to go. With those idiots running around out here, it's too likely that we run into more of them. We stay put.”

  “Then use one your trailers,” Greg shrugged. “Just bury it and use it as your bunker. But we can reinforce it by lining the hole with logs like Tandi said. That would strengthen the bunker and help hide the trailer. And the bunker doesn't have to be just the size of the trailer, either. We can make it open to one side. It would make a good shelter for an attack or for severe weather either one.”

  “We've all got storm cellars, but it's still a good idea,” Clay nodded. “We can use this as a test run and then build a good shelter there using the same method.”

  “Let me get Jake and then the two of us will help Abby get started on the hole,” Greg offered.

  “Okay, but get my dad involved as well,” Clay told him. “He knows the lay of the land better than anyone. He can make sure we're not in an area that's prone to flooding or some other problems. And make sure we can get to it and protect it. The entry way needs to be covered and we need to have an emplacement forward of the entry way.”

  “You got it,” Greg promised and started away at a good trot.

  “His limp is hardly noticeable now,” Tandi mentioned. “When he rolled in here, I wasn't too sure of his chances to be honest.”

  “He's tough,” Clay nodded. “Always has been. Okay, you need to assemble basic first aid kits for the emplacements. Make sure they can stop the bleeding on a bullet wound if they have to. Meanwhile Mitch, you and I are going to try and figure what needs to be where and who needs to line up with who.”

  “Got it,” they replied in unison. It was time to go to work.

  CHAPTER TWO

  -

  Very few people on the farm were not accustomed to hard work and long hours. The next
three days were full of both as entrenchments were dug, lined and covered with freshly cut logs and then covered once more with packed earth both to hide them and add an extra layer of protection. No one knew what kind of weapons they could expect in any attack that might come and it was felt it was better to be safer now than sorry later.

  The holes were simple constructs yet smartly done. The basic area, what the soldiers thought of as the actual 'fighting' area, was six feet all around, meaning it was a six-foot square, dug six feet into the ground. Once the logs were in place the actual available area would drop slightly but still give even the tallest person in the group enough room to shoot from and be reasonably comfortable.

  In the rear of the foxholes a sloping path was dug up and out, with the opening always pointing back toward the ranch. These ramps were covered part way, and then small berms of packed earth were erected to either side to allow a covered egress from the fighting position in the event that a withdrawal became necessary.

  Clay and Mitchell Nolan had debated for a full day over what to provide in each position, trying to find a balance between allowing someone caught without their gear to be able to fight, and the necessity of not allowing vital equipment to fall into any enemy's hands. Their final agreement was satisfying to no one but was felt to meet the immediate needs of any surprise attack.

  Each emplacement would have one weather proof container with a combination lock set inside. Each one would contain two AK rifles with five magazines each already loaded and an additional three hundred rounds to allow reloading in an extended battle. Added to that was three hundred rounds for the M-4 rifles to allow a reload for those who carried them and found themselves fighting from those positions in an emergency. The case would also contain two fragmentation grenades and two smoke grenades to help cover any egress, and a basic first aid kit. Finally, each case would contain two gallons of water and four MRE meals. The water would be changed out periodically to ensure that it wasn't stale.