Surviving in America: Under Siege 2nd Edition

by Paul Andrulis

  “You are right son. We need to get him buried,” the Sergeant replied

  “Maybe you two haven't noticed, but it hasn't kept at all,” Sue groaned.

  Joe, Dave, and the Sergeant wrapped their shirts around their faces and then removed John's body from the cellar, while two privates dug the grave using the pick and the small shovel. They could only wrap John in the tarp, but it had to do. After filling the hole with dirt, Joe said a few words for a memorial service. No more tears came, Joe was dried out and dried up.

  He looked different now.

  Joe’s face was more haggard then before, yet his eyes were both purposeful and determined. Joe somehow had acquired a harder look to both his face and body stance. He had found new purpose. It was time to start planning. Time to quit reacting to events, and start acting to create events. Time to let go, and move on.

  A man without a sense of purpose in life is dead while he yet walks, and Joe felt life ebbing slowly back into him. Most of his farm was still intact, and he had all sorts of junk stored in his outbuildings. He knew that he would be able to provide much needed supplies for these people who were now destitute.

  He also understood that John's farm was probably still wholly intact, and that the old man would have wanted them to use whatever they needed. John had always been that sort of a man. Joe knew they all needed to figure out a plan. But first, he knew they would need a means to survive.

  You can neither fight nor resist if you cannot first survive to do so.

  Survival at least, was something he knew well. Joe was an expert.

  11. (From The Fire)

  Joe carefully led everyone back to John's old farmhouse, and they were all thankful that John had a backup generator big enough to run the well pump. Thankful, as this meant everyone managed a quick shower, a chance to smell clean though each still couldn’t feel clean after being cooped up in the cellar for days with a dead corpse.

  The old man’s farm ran off of propane for cooking, which gave them at least a temporary place to prepare meals and clean up afterwards. For heat, John had years back installed a large cast iron wood burning stove in the basement, and a fireplace in the combination living/dining room.

  Everyone else was happy about the find of an intact and fairly functioning farmhouse, but Joe and the Sergeant. Joe felt guilty, but the Sergeant was just plain suspicious. To him, the situation was too easy and it smelled like some sort of a trap.

  “I don't trust this situation any farther than I can throw it. Why, pray tell, did they leave this farm intact?” the battle hardened Sergeant whispered to Joe.

  “No matter what we don't dare light a fire to heat the place. The smoke from the chimney would be an easy beacon that someone was missed.”

  “What we figured… By we, I mean John and I... Anyway, we figured that it had to do with a list of people speaking out about the Government. John hated computers so had little chance to be outspoken in any manner which would get him noticed,” Joe whispered back.

  “Not that he kept silent, mind you. He just preferred to speak his mind to those he knew instead of in public.”

  “Could be..... but I still don't like it,” was the Sergeant’s growled reply.

  “This has the smell more of depopulation than any terrorist witch hunt.”

  It was turning into a cool and rainy day, and they heard the rustle and bump of wood as it was placed in the fireplace. Both men bolted into the living room, the same thought going through each mind simultaneously.

  “Do not light that fire!” the Sergeant roared at Sue who was busy preparing the fireplace.

  Sue looked at the Sergeant and everyone could see sparks starting to ignite behind her green eyes. As she stood up from where she had been kneeling, she squared her shoulders and opened her mouth to scathe the Sergeant with some choice acidic words for his rude interruption of her labors.

  Before she could get a word out, Joe caught her focus and tried to calm her down. He knew her temper. She was famous around these parts for it. She was a green eyed and sassy redhead who was proud of her Irish origins, and the famed Irish temper that went with it.

  “Sue.... Please listen... Don't get angry. Please? We have a very good reason,” Joe cajoled.

  “Just what reason could you possibly put forth to justify the way he yelled at me?” Sue replied angrily, each spoken word precisely clipped and dipped in acid.

  “A couple of choppers flattening this place while we are still in it, to name just one,” the Sergeant grumbled.

  “Sue, you have to understand the where there is fire, there is smoke. Where there is smoke, others can see it from a long ways away. It would be a smoke signal to everyone around that someone is living here. It would be a good idea if we didn't use any lights at night either, for the same reason,” Joe said, trying to reason with her and hoping to calm her down.

  Sue walked over to the Sergeant and placed her nose right in front of his, even though she was forced to look up and stand on her tippy toes to accomplish the act. He was easily six feet tall, compared to her diminutive five foot five.

  “If you ever treat me like one of your military Privates again... Sergeant... I will remove yours. Am I clear?” Sue growled with a voice like well-oiled steel.

  “Crystal,” the Sergeant barked, snapping to attention and eying Sue with an odd combination of both humor and respect.

  “Please pardon me now ma'am, as I must retire into the other room.”

  When the door had closed to the bathroom, they could all hear the Sergeant bust out laughing. It was a sound more reminiscent of a hyena than anything else. A dangerous glint entered Sue's eyes, and Dave crossed the room in an intercept course.

  He was still trying to calm her down just as the Sergeant returned. The Sergeant walked straight up to Sue and saluted.

  “Fair enough. By the way, that was a new one on me. I thought I had heard them all,” the Sergeant chortled.

  A slight smile of satisfaction warped Sue's determined scowl. The combination of expressions made her temporarily resemble a gargoyle statue.

  Dave's boys both looked pole-axed, their jaws seemingly scraping the floor after the exchange of words they had just witnessed. Jonas leaned over and whispered in Kyle's ear.

  “I thought mom was going to kill him!”

  “Did you see the look on dad's face?” Kyle whispered back.

  “He looked like he swallowed something nasty. I couldn't tell if he was going to get pissed off or laugh!”

  Both boys chuckled at that.

  The night passed without further incident between the two, and for everyone involved was actually pleasant… after the mild melodrama subsided. What confused everyone concerned was that afterwards both Sue and the Sergeant acted as if they had known each other for a long time; they acted like life-long friends.

  Dave looked as perplexed as ever. He had been fully expecting his wife to wait for the Sergeant with a smile and a frying pan behind her back. He knew her temper all too well, having suffered the brunt of it many times himself.

  “Weird, odd, strange... They are both nuttier than a fruitcake,” Dave said to himself while staring at the two talking to each other politely.

  “Not so confusing Dave. I think it is a case of hate, like, and respect,” Joe said from behind Dave, startling the man out of his reverie and making him jump.

  “Don't do that!” Dave gasped.

  “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  Joe chuckled.

  “Sorry. I was just talking about what has you looking somewhat like a guppy on the shore gasping for air,” Joe replied.

  “They each knew they had met their match, and had to choose between hate and like, of each other I mean. They chose the middle ground of respect.”

  Joe pulled back the carpeting covering the window into the dark night, and noticed a bright patch on the yard. Without a word he dashed upstairs, ascended the stairs two steps at a time running like a madman. He burst into the boy's room on the
second story and hit the light switch plunging the room into darkness, with only a glimmer from downstairs providing any light. He could see stars through the wide open window, and the room was a little chilly from the breezy night air.

  Just then he heard a very faint yet familiar sound. Far off in the distance, he could hear a barely audible 'thwap – thwap - thwap', fading in and out of hearing.

  “No. No. No. No,” Joe mumbled.

  The words kept repeating out of his mouth in a steady stream as he slammed the door on the empty and now darkened room and bounded downstairs even faster than he had arrived with the two boys leading the way and running even faster.

  12. (Time For School)

  Joe burst into the living room in an panicked rush. Everyone present stared at him as if he had gone mad. Panting and wheezing from the effort, he could barely speak.

  “The boys left the upstairs light on. Their room doesn't even have any curtains.”

  The Sergeant turned first white, and then beet red, a look of utter disgust settling upon his countenance. Fear crept into Sue's eyes and Dave looked sternly at the two boys. The only ones in the room not catching the significance of the mistake was the boys; two boys who just looked utterly confused. Everyone but the boys knew what it meant.

  The light boldly shining in a room without curtains was a rectangular beacon of light. A neon sign advertising their location to anyone looking for miles. It was a beacon framed against a backdrop of utter darkness and nearly impossible to miss from the air. A sign saying “come kill us please”.

  “That isn't the worst of it. I heard choppers. Far off, and I don't know if they saw it or not. Their room faces the belt, so I don’t have a clue how much light made it through the trees,” Joe stated.

  “Depends on angle, obstruction, and elevation then,” the Sergeant replied.

  He was referring to the angle of flight relative to the farmhouse, whether the trees obstructed the light, and the elevation of the chopper. All of these factors would play their part concerning whether they had been spotted the people inside the helicopter.

  Unobstructed lights at night are easily seen from a distance, and especially from an elevated position. Even small indistinct lights like the glowing coal on the end of a cigarette can be seen over surprising distances. The larger and brighter the light, the farther it can be easily spotted. Many a soldier has paid the price for lighting up, or taking a puff at the wrong time in the wrong place sending out this undesired advertisement of their location. They paid for the mistake with a bullet to the face, as snipers usually aimed for the light when it would suddenly brighten.

  Sue grabbed Dave's arm tightly, and the boys looked scared.

  “I'm sorry,” Kyle said softly

  “I had to find covers, and I forgot to shut off the light. I mean I just forgot. You know?”

  “People make mistakes son, and I am not trying to be mean, but some mistakes are worse than others. This type may get us all killed. Don't do it again, and think before you act. Ok?” Joe said, looking hard at Kyle, staring directly in his eyes.

  “Ok,” Kyle whispered, a tear forming in his eye and slowly sliding down his cheek.

  “Nicolson! Hitch! Recon and keep frosty. Go out the back and use the shelter belt for cover,” the Sergeant barked at two of the privates.

  A thought suddenly struck Joe.

  All this time they had been around the soldiers sharing all the excitement and suffering and not once had anyone bothered to ask or give names on either side. Not once! Had it really been only three days? This simple omission made Joe uncomfortable.

  These were people they had shared hard times with, and were somewhat dependent upon, not just, “Hey Sergeant” or “Hey you”.

  “Sergeant, I have realized that somewhere I flushed my manners down the toilet. I am Joseph Anderson, and this is the Littleton family, first names you already know,” he said, sticking out his hand.

  “Master Sergeant Josiah Zebadiah Anderson,” the Sergeant said with a small smirk.

  “Since we don't need two ‘Joe Andersons’ walking around, just call me either Zeb or Sergeant.”

  Not really sure how to proceed at this turn of events, Joe recovered fast. He just smiled.

  “Zeb it is then. You want to know something really strange?”

  “Sure, Go for it,” the Sergeant replied.

  “My middle names Zebulon,” Joe retorted, causing the Sergeant to look utterly shocked.

  “Either you are lying, or that's too much coincidence. Just call me Sergeant, Ok?” the Sergeant grimaced.

  Anderson is a very common name, and so is both Zeb and Joe, but the Sergeant found having two people share all three in the same order at the same time was somewhat creepy, even if the people weren't related. Shaking his head a little, the Sergeant pointed at his men in order, introducing them.

  “First let me introduce Corporal Haskins. Next are Privates Waite, Daniels, and Cross,” the Sergeant enumerated.

  “Outside are Privates Nicolson and Hitch.”

  “First names?” Sue asked enquiringly.

  “They are still in the military, and I don't want them to forget that, so use their rank,” the Sergeant said using his trained and well worn 'Master Sergeant' voice, the deep lines in his rugged face accentuating his words.

  Nicolson returned at the end of the introductions and reported.

  “Lots of traffic from all directions Sergeant. I estimate about ten separate birds, but we can't tell if any are headed for us. Maybe we got lucky.”

  “Corporal! Set up a roster for watch duty,” the Sergeant ordered.

  “Consider it done Sergeant. Should I include civilians on the list?”

  Thoughtfully the Sergeant looked over the group.

  “Just include Dave and possibly Joe right now. Dave's ex-mil and Joe is observant for a civilian and has shown common sense. Everyone else needs some training before they could find their collective butts with both hands.”

  With this last statement, the Sergeant stared both directly and challengingly at Sue. She realized he was right. She had tried to light the fire, and they had turned on the light. Without even a thought they had endangered the whole group. Acting without thinking, or not knowing was dangerous, and they might well miss something important, or worse do something stupid. In a survival situation, ignorance kills.

  Early on in their marriage, Sue had seen a trait in Dave which was somewhat unique. Adversity would hit, and he could seemingly up-shift or down-shift mentally and physically to suit the need. He always calculated his own abilities as he went. These traits were so handy Sue incorporated them into herself, forcing herself to learn to be both flexible and adaptable. She already knew her own limitations both physically and mentally, and in accepting these hindrances and pushing these limits to the best of her ability, she was actually more capable now than most people.

  Sue realized her previous error and accepted her mistake. Learning from the mistake, she saw the need to learn more. She was not in the least angry with the Sergeant or aggressive towards his decision, but actually agreed with his assessment and became determined to discover exactly what knowledge she lacked. There developed a desire to make sure that both herself and her own children would not make the same mistakes twice.

  At Sue's reaction to the direct challenge made by the Sergeant, Dave demonstrated emphatically that he truly had no clue. He shook his head and looked up towards the ceiling, a bewildered look pasted like wall-paper across his face.

  “Every day is a learning experience I guess,” he thought to himself.

  Zeb eyed the group after dismissing his soldiers and sent Nicolson back out with Hitch. He weighed each person calculatedly in his mind, and was sadly disappointed at the conclusions. This group needed a ton of work. He needed to start with a group assessment.

  “Since there is no present evidence of danger and before we go off half-cocked, I need to know what each of you rugged individualists actually knows. I need to know
what valuable skills we have available,” the Sergeant stated to the open air, just loud enough to be clearly heard by everyone inside the house.

  “What do you think is a valuable skill?” Sue asked innocently.

  “Who knows, just tell me what you can do. Heck even typing and gardening have their place,” Zeb replied without breaking stride.

  He already knew the shortcomings of the soldiers, as he knew exactly how and what they had been trained to do.

  “You go first Joe,” he stated with one gray eyebrow cocked thoughtfully.

  “Well, I can truthfully say that if you dropped me out in the middle of no-where with nothing, I would not go hungry, thirsty, naked, or exposed. I have also learned quite a bit from numerous hobbies I have had through the years,” Joe replied.