The Glooming (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 1)

by John Triptych

  “Too bad about what?” Mark said to him before he started chuckling again. “Oh, so you wanted to screw her too, didn’t you? You horny armadillo. I thought all that prison sex must have made you queer or something.”

  “I never had any kind of sex when I was inside,” Buck hissed. “Screw you.”

  Lance walked over and sat on an old armchair facing them as he placed two fully-loaded assault rifle magazines into the ammo pouch on his tactical vest. “Calm down, boys. I think we may need some target practice just to cool both your heads off. Let’s think about this for a minute. What kind of live targets can we practice on?”

  “Let’s go drive around in your pickup and find us some niggers to shoot,” Buck said.

  “I know a few buddies of mine that’s been doing that since yesterday,” Lance said. “I don’t know if there’s any blacks still in Odessa. From what I heard, a lot of them started moving up north when a lot of the cops started quitting.”

  Buck thought about it for a minute before he answered. “Let’s go shoot some wetbacks then. A couple of them beaners came at me with a shank while I was in the joint. I got a long scar on my belly and I need some payback.”

  “Whoa, I think he’s onto something here,” Mark said. “Remember the news last night? I dunno if you watched this in your house, Lance, but last night the reporters said that several million Mexican refugees were now in El Paso and the Border Patrol and the National Guard couldn’t even stop them.”

  Lance nodded. “Yeah, it was something like ten million I think. Too many wetbacks for the authorities to shoot and that traitor president of ours probably let them in anyway.”

  “The news weren’t sure of what’s driving them up north,” Buck said. “I didn’t understand what that anchorman was sayin’.”

  “I was on the internet in my house just before it got slow two days ago,” Lance said. “Some reports said it was packs of chupacabras that was killing ‘em down there, but then I saw some of those videos they posted from the survivors who made it here, and those things looked more like vampires or zombies.”

  “What’s a chupacabra?” Buck said.

  “Some sort of monster dog or bear or something like that,” Mark said. “Stupid Mexicans and their dumbass religious crap.”

  “Whatever is causing it shouldn’t be our problem. It’s theirs and they should be dealing with it,” Lance said. “Those goddamned Mexicans have flooded into our border states. Before it was just a few hundred thousand and now its millions of them brown-skinned scumbags, we gotta do something.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Mark said before turning his head to look at Buck. “You cool with shooting a few hundred wetbacks today?”

  Buck grinned. His yellow teeth were crooked and it made him look like cartoon character so he didn’t smile much except for special occasions. “I got no problem with it.”

  Lance got up and took out his mobile phone as he went to the kitchen. “Hang on, since I can still get a cell signal, lemme call up a friend of mine. He personally knows Obediah Smith.”

  “Obediah Smith? The chairman for AFAF?” Mark said.

  Lance waved at them from the kitchen as he started talking to someone on his hand phone. “Yeah, that’s him. Hold on….”

  Buck leaned over to Mark. “What’s AFAF?”

  “America for Americans Foundation,” Mark said. “They are one of the biggest anti-immigration groups in the country. Obediah Smith’s their chairman and a local boy from Houston. He’s been on TV a lot of times and a regular commentator on XOX News.”

  “I think I might have seen him once or twice when I was in the hole,” Buck said.

  “Obediah’s a good man. If he ran for president, I would vote for him in a heartbeat. The only good times this country had was when a Texan was president,” Mark said.

  “Okay,” Lance said as he walked back over to them with a smile. “I just talked to one of his assistants. There’s huge numbers of Mexicans trying to cross the border and ICE is pretty shorthanded. Since we’re in Odessa, they could use some volunteers over at Fort Hancock, that’s only a few hours away. They said there’s already a small group of citizens over there defending the place and they need more. Obediah is also on his way over there so we can meet him in person.”

  Mark grinned. “That’s mighty fine! How much ammo do we bring?”

  “My friend said that Obediah will be bringing in a truckload of ammo, but let’s bring at least ten full mags each,” Lance said. “That way we still have a reserve in case their supplies run out.”

  “That’s gonna be at least three hundred rounds for each of us,” Mark said as he got up and headed to the boxes by the kitchen.

  Buck was now grinning ear to ear as he also stood up from the couch to join Mark in loading his guns, this was the best day of his life since he got out of prison a few weeks ago. While most of the news reports were saying that the world was turning into Hell, he never felt better.

  The drive south towards Fort Hancock took almost three hours. Traffic was pretty light since most people were trying to flee northwards instead of going down to the southern border. Mark drove the pickup truck while Lance was in the front seat. Buck was riding shotgun in the back along with a few boxes of extra ammunition for their rifles. He was so excited, he started firing a few shots at a group of Mexicans that were trying to thumb a ride north on the other side of the road. Mark kept the gas on the pedal as Lance opened the truck’s rear window and told him in no uncertain terms to stop shooting until they got to the border. Buck complied and sat back down on the rear bed of the pickup, as he was scared of Lance and he hoped they wouldn’t leave him behind. Anyway, he didn’t think he hit any of those Mexicans since the truck was at a high speed and he saw them diving to the ground as soon as he pointed the AR-15 at them. Buck was still somewhat keyed up as he took some ammunition out of one of the boxes and reloaded his spent magazine. The sun was out and it looked to be a beautiful, hot afternoon.

  As the truck drove into the town’s gas station just under a mile from the border, they noticed a few other cars there with other people readying their own guns. Fort Hancock was really nothing more than a crossroads with a few dilapidated buildings nearby, the rest of the place was desert scrub and farmland. Buck immediately jumped off the back of the pickup and stretched his back. Lance got out of the front seat and saw someone he recognized, an old man wearing a Stetson and carrying an old Remington bolt-action hunting rifle that had a brand new scope attached to it.

  Lance put his wraparound sunglasses on the top of his baseball cap then he walked up to the old man and shook his hand. “Hey, Lamar, how you doin’?”

  “Lance, it’s been a long time since I saw you, I’m doing well, sir,” the old man said. He had a white moustache and wore a brown leather vest on his chest. “You here to help defend our nation’s borders too?”

  “Yes, we are,” Lance said as Mark and Buck joined them. “My cousin Mark, and our friend Buck.”

  Lamar shook both their hands. “Welcome to our makeshift citizen’s border patrol, gentlemen.”

  Mark adjusted his tan baseball cap. “How long have you guys been here?”

  “Oh, we just got here ourselves,” Lamar said. “We’re all just waiting for Obediah Smith, he should be coming any minute now.”

  Mark tapped Buck’s shoulder and started walking to the station desk. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna buy some gas for the ride home. Come on, Buck.”

  As the other two men walked away Lance put his hands on his hips. “So what’s the situation out here then?”

  “Well, sir, the locals have been asking the government for help for the past week now,” Lamar said as he looked down on the sun-bleached pavement. “They’ve been saying that more and more Mexicans have been crossing the border right here. A month ago, it was just a trickle and now it’s a goddamned flood of ‘em just wading across the Rio Grande. You know that in this juncture the river is nothing more than a stream, so even their kids w
on’t have a problem crossing it since most of ‘em don’t even know how to swim anyway.”

  Lance just nodded. He didn’t know how to swim either, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud.

  Lamar slung his rifle over his shoulder. “So the citizens of this town keep asking for help and what does the gubmint do? Nothin.’ It’s an absolute disgrace to our forefathers, the ones who built this country with their bare hands. Yessiree, it’s a disgrace. So the townsfolk, many of ‘em already left, but the few that are still around are gonna make sure this piece of land remains a part of America. I got a call from Obediah just yesterday so me and my wife been getting’ over here as fast as we can.”

  Right after the old man said that, the sound of firecrackers could be heard in the distance. It wasn’t too close, but it didn’t feel too far either. Everyone knew that the shooting only meant that the Mexicans were trying to cross in force again.

  Lance looked around. “Is the sheriff still here?”

  “Yessir, he and his deputies are just to the right of us, over there,” the old man said as he pointed his finger towards the southwest boundaries of the town. “He’s coordinating the defense on the southern edge of the town. Some of our boys here are gonna join ‘em.”

  Just as the old man finished his sentence, a small convoy of cars pulled up into the gas station’s driveway. The lead car was a white Ford SUV and a heavyset man with a silvery beard got out of the front seat. Everyone immediately recognized him as Obediah Smith, the famous anti-immigration advocate. A few people went forward and shook his hands, but he immediately waved them back as he took out a bullhorn from the backseat of the vehicle.

  “Everyone, good afternoon to y’all,” Obediah said as he amplified his voice using the bullhorn. “I’m sorry about the lack of decorum right now, but we need to get into position right away. I got a call on my mobile phone from the sheriff of this town on my way here, and he needs volunteers to man the front lines immediately. We’re gonna need about ten volunteers over to where he is, which is down there,” Obediah pointed towards the southwest, just like Lamar did. “The rest of you boys could follow me in my car. We need to position ourselves on the northern edge of town. The ones headin’ over to the sheriff’s side needn’t worry about ammo since he’s got a supply with him, and the ones going with me will be given a few hundred rounds each, depending on what type of weapon you got. Does anyone have any questions before we get going?”

  One man with an AK-47 raised his hand. “How long do you expect us to be here, sir?”

  Obediah smiled. “You can stay as long as you want. I’m gonna be here for a few days at least to assess the situation. The sheriff has told me there are some houses nearby with beds that some of the citizens will allow you boys to sleep in, but I’m sure some of you brought sleeping bags so camping isn’t a problem. My lovely wife Sara has brought along enough chili to feed a hundred people for tonight’s dinner, and I’ve made arrangements with the local eateries here so the volunteers that wish to stay can have some free meals. I hope most of you boys would be willing to stay for a few days, at least.”

  Some in the crowd murmured while others cheered. Mark frowned and looked at Lance as he forgot to think about bringing any sleeping bags, or a tent. Buck cheered along with the others since the thought of free food and several days of live target practice just about sounded like the best thing he ever heard.

  Another man raised his hand. He looked to be middle-aged and was evidently from out of state from the looks of his clothes. “Mr. Smith, will there be any possible liabilities if we … you know, end up shooting and maybe killing somebody?”

  Obediah nodded as if he was expecting that question to come up. “I’ve talked with my people in Homeland Security and I can tell you the Border Patrol is stretched thin, most of their agents have quit. The section chief hinted to me that we can pretty much do anything we want as long as no American citizen gets hurt. So you boys can shoot, but make sure that the person you shoot at ain’t an American citizen is all. If any of you boys get hurt, then I’m sorry, but I can’t help you other than to give you a few bandages that I brought along.” A couple of chuckles erupted from the crowd. “Now I’m gonna remind y’all again, if you end up hurtin’ an American citizen, you’re on your own, but if it’s anybody else, then I would say you don’t have to worry ‘bout anything, ya hear?”

  Loud cheering erupted from the crowd as Obediah waved at them and started to shake hands with the more insistent ones before getting back in his car.

  Mark turned to Lance. “Which group are we a part of?”

  Lance smiled. “Let’s go with Obediah’s group. Get back in the truck now and let’s go.”

  It was late afternoon by the time they got into position. Mark had wanted to park the car on the side of the highway, but Lance convinced him to drive over the barren field and leave the pickup right at the edge of the gully facing the Rio Grande, so that they wouldn’t have to walk far if they needed more ammunition or a ride back. While the sun still shined on their side of the border, Buck could see a massive storm front to the south, the entire sky was practically opaque, with grey clouds like a giant wall of haze that had blotted out the southern horizon. The three of them could see sheets of yellow lightning strike down several miles away.

  “Good lord, I’ve never seen anything like it,” Lance said. From their position, they would cover around several hundred yards of open ground around the river. A few hundred yards to their right was Obediah’s main camp.

  Mark walked over to a small boulder and sat down on it as he pulled out a pair of binoculars and began to scan the border. “I can see about two dozen wetbacks heading towards the river. They ought to be here in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay,” Lance said as he crouched down behind a dried out shrub. “Everybody get into position, a few yards apart.”

  Buck nodded as he walked to the right of them for a few yards and dutifully sat down. Almost immediately, he stood up again as he had just sat down on a small cactus. Cussing, he kicked at the plant as he pulled at the back of his jeans to get the spikes out of his buttocks. This time he carefully chose a spot that was just bare sand and knelt down on it until he too was behind a desert shrub. The other two were busy sighting their rifles so they didn’t notice what had happened.

  Mark kept looking through the binoculars. “They’re almost to the riverbank. Do we fire a warning shot?”

  “I’ll do it,” Lance said as he flipped off the safety to his AR-15 while sighting with the red dot optical scope. He fired a few rounds near a Mexican leading a woman wearing a dusty old dress down the bank. The Mexican looked around at first as if he was confused, but then started to pull the woman to the water of the Rio Grande.

  “Stupid wetback didn’t get the message,” Mark said as he started to sight his rifle.

  “Open fire once they get to the other side,” Lance said tersely.

  Buck forgot about the pain in his buttocks and started to chuckle as he tried to get a bead on them using his red dot sight. The Mexican couple looked like middle-aged farmers with their brown and wrinkly skin, but they looked determined to make it as both waded in the water for a bit until the man finally grabbed onto a small rock on the other side of the river and began to pull the woman to him. Mark and Lance both fired almost at the same time. The man took a few rounds in his chest and he fell back into the swirling water. Buck could see the woman was terrified as she tried to grab at the man’s hand so he fired at her, but he kept missing as his shots started making small puffs of smoke along the sandy bank or just harmlessly hit the water; on his last shot he finally hit her square in the forehead and she too fell into river.

  Buck whooped. “I got her! I got that brown bitch right in the head! Yeehaw!”

  “Yeah, but only after you emptied your mag, dingleberry.” Mark chuckled. “You’re gonna be outta ammo before we even get started, boy.”

  “Shut the hell up,” Buck said as he dropped the magazine and sl
apped in a fresh one before he whacked the bolt release. “That was my first time shootin’ this here rifle.”

  “Alright, knock it off you two,” Lance said as he stayed in position. “Buck, just work on your aim, center the target on your optic sight before firing again.”

  “Here come more of ‘em,” Mark said. “Looks like a whole train load this time, boys.”

  Buck began to sight his scope again. Mark wasn’t kidding. This time there looked to be about close to thirty Mexicans making their way towards the riverbank on their right. They evidently didn’t see what had happened to the couple just a few minutes ago, the bend in the river obscuring their vantage point. Most of this group were young men though there were a few women and two small children being carried along. Buck was tired of waiting so he just started firing as soon as they started making their way down to the riverbank on the other side. Buck fired the full load on his magazine and hit about three men. The rest of the crowd stood in shock for a minute and then began to panic and scatter in all directions.

  Mark snorted. “Buck you idiot, why didn’t you wait until they were on the other side?”

  Buck reloaded, sighted a woman who was just standing there screaming, and finally hit her in the chest on his third try. “Who cares, they’re just a bunch of wetbacks anyway.”

  “He’s right, nobody is gonna care either way now,” Lance said as he too started to fire. “Open fire once any target is in sight.”

  All three men started to fire on anyone they saw on the other side of the border now. Lance was able to gun down three men while Mark got one man and a woman who stopped running momentarily as she tried to pick up a small child. Buck shot the little girl in the stomach on his second try as she stood there crying over the woman that Mark got. As they kept shooting, the three of them didn’t realize that the setting sun on their side of the border had finally been obscured by a massive cloud front sweeping in from the north.

  “Jesus, Buck, that was a goddamned kid you shot!” Mark said.