The Fall of America | Book 1 | Premonition of Death

by Benton, W. R.

  We remained in position until well after midnight, then moved directly behind the machine gun position and placed a claymore mine. I made sure all four metal legs were in the soil and the front was toward the enemy, by feeling the embossed text on the front of the mine. I then ran the line off a ways to Tom. Tom was to detonate the claymore when one of the soldiers woke and moved to the forest for his morning pee. I would then capture the lone survivor, just after the claymore exploded, and the women would rush the machine gun to kill anyone yet alive. I hoped things went as planned, but suspected they'd go to hell, and quickly. In combat, few things go as planned.

  Earlier two of the men moved into the Stryker to sleep, most likely, and two remained at the machine gun. But, from what I could see from the moonlight the two at the gun seemed asleep a little later. I was wrong, and in just few minutes one of the men moved off about twenty-five feet and took a leak.

  The night passed slowly as I watched the men. Occasionally one would walk around the vehicle. I could tell they didn't have much experience, because more than once I was tempted to kill them both with a knife. I was sure I could do the job, only we had a plan and I'd stick to it.

  Just as darkness was turning into gray, I heard a two-stroke vehicle coming up the road and figured it was someone passing on the daily orders or carrying messages. Soon, an old beat-up dirt bike rode up and the driver turned his machine off and dismounted. All this time the machine gunner had his weapon on the man. Finally, I heard a voice say, "Point that damned thing in some other direction, will ya!"

  The barrel immediately swiveled off the man, which told me the gunner knew the man or recognized the voice. The other guard said, "Hank, how've ya been?"

  "I'm doin' fine. Where are the other two?"

  The guard pointed to the Stryker.

  "Wake 'em up. The colonel wants ya to return to camp and you're to come with me. Now, get 'em up and movin', because I've a busy day ahead of me."

  "I'll wake 'em, but Ivan will be pissed. We were told to stay here a week and he was in the vodka pretty hard last night."

  "He's been pissed before, so wake 'em."

  The guard chuckled and moved to the vehicle.

  A few minutes later I could hear cursing and the two men came out with the guard exiting last. Both men moved to the woods to pee and I noticed the Russian was standing right in front of the Claymore mine. I remained in position and the American was close enough to worry me. The last thing I wanted was for him to take a leak on my head, but he missed me by inches.

  As I watched my guard zipping up his pants, I heard a loud explosion, followed by screams. I came up off the ground, knocked the man to the ground with the butt of my shotgun, and he lay unmoving. I heard screams and cries for help, then saw Tom running toward the machine gun. I heard one long burst from the gun, of maybe five seconds, heard a couple of shotgun blasts, and then silence.

  I stayed in position, knowing if I moved too early someone might just shoot my ass. As I waited, I removed a roll of duct tape from my pack and taped my prisoners hands behind his back. I quickly taped his feet too.

  "John, all secured! We have one wounded."

  I made my way to the machine gun and saw Tom working on Alisa's legs. Blood was pooling under her and Vickie stood by unmoving. By looking at her eyes, I could tell Vickie was going into shock. The machine gunners head was almost completely gone and the ammo man had been hit in the stomach. Both were beyond caring and the cyclist was twitching and jerking as he screamed.

  The blast from the Claymore really messed the bike rider up, and there was no way he'd survive. I pulled my knife, knelt beside him and cut his throat.

  I stood and then ordered, "Vickie, look in the vehicle and see if they have any blankets. Also check for first aid supplies while you're in there."

  "I'll . . . I . . . I'm going."

  I squatted by Tom as he worked and asked, "Serious?"

  "I think the bone in the left leg is broken and the bleeding won't stop."

  "What about the right leg?"

  "It's a clean in and out injury. I imagine it hurts like hell, but this leg has me worried. I'm going to use a tourniquet and see if that works. I'm using a direct compress now, but it's not even slowing down, so I suspect the femoral artery has been damaged."

  "Vickie, is there a stretcher in there?"

  "Yea, do you want me to bring it out?"

  "Bring it and what you've found." Then, turning to Tom I said, "We need to load her and get moving. I'm sure others heard the explosion."

  "Did you get a prisoner?"

  I nodded and motioned with my thumb, "He's back in the trees. Let me get him, while you take care of Vickie."

  When I neared the prisoner, he looked up at me with huge frightened eyes and they grew larger as I pulled my sheath knife. I hadn't cleaned it since I'd cut the throat on the cyclist, so the blood was fresh on the long blade. I squatted beside him and said, "I'm going to cut the tape at your feet, but you try anything and I'll kill you. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," was his weak reply.

  I cut the tape and then said, "I'm going to help you stand. Once you're on your feet, don't take a single step, or I'll blow you in half with my shotgun."

  He nodded, so I helped him to his feet.

  "Now, move toward the gun and do the job slowly."

  As we walked by the dead Russian, I noticed him staring at the body, or what was left of the man. The Claymore had blown him in half and only the upper half was in the grass. I wasn't surprised; after all, the mine threw 700 steel balls that are about one-eighth of an inch in diameter, and that would ruin anyone's day. As we neared the machine gun, my prisoner took in the damage done. Both of the dead suffered from the Claymore, but it was the shotgun blasts that killed them. I noticed the prisoner looked at the dead cyclist a long time, and he understood where the blood on my knife came from. I wasn't sure how the gunner lived long enough to fire at all, but he had, and knew Tom would tell me more later.

  "Stop," I ordered and my prisoner stood still. I saw Alisa was on the stretcher and the tourniquet seemed to be working.

  Tom stood and said, "The bleeding has stopped, but we need to get her to medical help as quickly as we can. If the tourniquet stays on too long, she'll lose the leg."

  I gave an ill-felt smile and said, "Load her in the Stryker and we'll drive to Top, or as far as we can get with the fuel in this thing." Turning to the prisoner, I asked, "How much fuel in the vehicle?"

  "I guess you'll need to see for yourself, won't ya?"

  I swung my shotgun hard and felt the barrel take him along side of his head. He fell to the ground unmoving. I handed my weapon to Tom and then pulled the prisoner inside the Stryker and taped his legs together. I considered taping his mouth too, but changed my mind for no real reason. I searched him thoroughly and discovered a small .38-caliber pistol, a sheath knife, two grenades in his coat pocket, and a pig-sticker on a cord around his neck. I took these and placed them in my coat pockets.

  I saw he was a youngster of maybe 25, close to six feet tall, and like most of us he was thinner than he should have been. He wore his blond hair cropped close to his scalp and his face was cleanly shaven, showing a scar that ran from his left ear to his lips. He also wore glasses, which I removed and placed in my pack. I started to walk away, but as an afterthought, I squatted and removed his boots. I then threw them into the woods. He may run away, but by God he'll run slowly barefoot, I thought.

  Vicki and Tom entered with the litter and placed her on the left side against the wall. Tom pulled the safety straps over the litter and then connected them. As soon as he'd tightened them I asked, "Is the machine gun in good shape?"

  "Yep, and there is a box of ammo with the gun and some more against the other wall here."

  "I'm going to get it, and on the way back you can ride shotgun for me."

  Tom chuckled and replied, "I hope you do better this trip than you did the last. If I remember correctly you got us blown up!"
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  "We weren't blown up, but it was pretty close," I replied and then made my way to the gun. A mounting bracket was in place on top of the Stryker, so when I returned it was a simple process to install the gun, wipe the fresh blood off, and load a new belt of ammo.

  I climbed down from the gun, turned to Vickie and said, "If the prisoner so much as passes gas, kill 'em. Tom will be keeping watch from above, while I drive, so it's up to you to keep us safe."

  Vickie pulled her pistol and said, "You drive, and let me take care of our boy."

  A few minutes later I cranked the engine, noticed an almost full tank of fuel, and off we went. While I knew the top speed advertised for the vehicle was 62MPH, I wanted to move much slower than that, so I kept it around 20MPH. If I keep the speed down, I'll get more miles per gallon of fuel and not likely drive into an ambush either. I don't need to be racing down a road I don't know or have any idea who I'll run into, I thought as I enjoyed the ride.

  Tom was suddenly behind me and said, "Stay on this dirt road for close to 20 miles, then turn off on a dirt road to the right. The map says it's county road 380. We go down that a couple of miles and come to a creek. The cave should be up on the left."

  "Got it," I replied.

  "I'm moving back to the gun."

  The morning was clear with no clouds to be seen and the road was in fair shape, with few ruts or potholes. I knew no one had worked on it for years, but it might mean the difference between Alisa living and dying. As I drove, I constantly scanned the area through my viewing ports, which were fairly limited in my opinion. Can't see much using these damned ports, I thought.

  Mile after mile was covered quickly and an hour later, as I slowed down to turn on county road 380, I heard a loud explosion, and then Tom opened up with the machine gun. My man was good, firing short bursts to avoid burning the barrel. Dust and debris flew by my viewing ports, and I heard a few loud pings as small arms fire struck the vehicle. I looked out of the ports, but saw no one.

  The bastards missed, this time, I thought and goosed the vehicle to increase our speed. I knew if anyone ambushing us had anything heavier than small arms, we were dead meat.

  Two more explosions were heard, our machine gun kept a steady and well spaced beat, so I made a split-second decision.

  CHAPTER 13

  I slowed down to almost a crawl, turned to the left and entered the woods. Once in the forest, I kept my speed low, to avoid trees and boulders, but also so I could watch for the bad guys. Almost instantly our gun on top went quiet.

  I'd just dodged a huge pine tree when I heard Tom say, "Those boys back there weren't expecting a Stryker to come down on 'em. I think we surprised the living shit right out of most of them. I don't see any damage to the vehicle and everyone inside is safe."

  "Do you think Top is safe? If not, then this trip might be a waste of time."

  Tom laughed and then replied, "Didn't you see the vehicles hidden in the trees back there? Hell, I'll bet over two hundred men shot at us, but with your piss-poor driving and weaving, we only took a few rounds. I think it was the convoy we spotted earlier."

  "That means one of two things. One, they've attempted to enter the cave and weren't able to do the job or two, they've not even tried yet." At this point we hit a bad rut or narrow ditch, because I bounced all over the place and Tom cursed.

  "I think it'd be smart if we kept moving and approached the cave from the opposite side. They may have placed some ambushes along the road, but right now I need to get back to the gun."

  "Roger that, so I'll arrive at the cave on the west side and all should go well," I said, but thought, I hope they don't have a bunch of men near the cave or we're dead meat.

  Tom reappeared, leaned over my shoulder and said, "Don't get too close to the cave, because Top might just shoot our asses. Stop short, maybe a 100 yards and we'll walk the rest of the way."

  "I'd not given that much thought, except with Alisa hurt like she is, let me stop the Stryker and then one of us can move to the cave with the prisoner. We have no idea if someone is watching the place or what."

  "I'll stay with Alisa, but hurry, because I don't like having the tourniquet on that leg very long."

  "Get back to the gun, we'll be where I intend to stop in a few minutes. Once I'm out with my boy, keep me covered as I head to the cave."

  "Roger that, but relax, because I don't think they've found the cave yet. If they had, they'd be gathered up closer to the place."

  He moved from my side and I drove just a little faster. I knew if the blood flow to her leg was stopped for too long, the leg would be lost. That thought scared me more than just a little, for two reasons. I wasn't sure any of us knew how to properly remove a leg or had the necessary surgical equipment, and I'd yet to see anyone alive since the fall with a missing limb.

  Ten minutes later, I stopped on the outside edge of a grove of tall and ancient oaks. When I moved from the drivers seat to the interior of the vehicle, I saw our prisoner glare at me, but he wisely kept his mouth closed.

  Turning to Vickie, I said, "I'm taking the prisoner and moving for the cave. I want you to unass this thing and move over into the trees. Stay close to here, but help cover me as I take our boy to meet Top."

  I squatted by the prisoner and pulled a rope from my pack. Tying a slipknot in the end, I placed it over his head. I then cut the tape to his legs and helped him stand. I finally let the rear ramp down and warned, "Walk in front of me and go where I tell you to go. You zig when you should zag, and I'll blow you apart with this .44 magnum I have. Do you understand me?"

  "Ya, I hear ya."

  "Start walking straight for about a hundred yards. I'll tell you when to turn."

  We were within twenty yards of the cave entrance when I heard an order, "Stop, that's close enough!"

  We stopped.

  "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

  "My name's John, and this bastard is the prisoner Top requested I get for him."

  "Stay, the both of you, until I can get to your position."

  As I waited, I watched my prisoner opening and closing his hands, which to me meant he was growing afraid and that was good. If Top had an intelligence branch, they'd soon know all this man knew, so if he had half a brain he'd spill the beans right off.

  "Okay, I'm behind you. Move to the closed door and on the right, up high, you'll see a red button. I want you to push that button and then step back."

  As we moved I thought, I should have blindfolded our prisoner, but other than our walk to the cave, he didn't see much. It's unlikely, if he escapes, he'll even know which direction to run.

  At the entrance I pushed the button and stepped back.

  The door moved and began to open. I heard the guard at my back command, "Enter and do the job slowly."

  We entered and Top looked up from where he sat on a wooden box. He grinned and said, "Hank, he's okay and one of us. Go finish your guard, but you did the right thing."

  Dolly growled at the man until I said, "Dolly, hush."

  "Howdy, Top, I brought you the prisoner you wanted."

  "Good God, son, you ain't the only one left are you?"

  "No, the others are near a Stryker we borrowed for a while. One of the women has a serious leg injury."

  "Jones, take the prisoner and form a detail of three others. Once you're ready to go, take the man to Colonel Parker and ask him to send me a full report."

  "Brown, Light, and Carrier, you come with me."

  I turned my prisoner over to Thompson and then asked, "Can you loan me a few men to return to the Stryker? I'd like to get our wounded in here as soon as possible. There was a bleeding problem and Tom had to use a tourniquet."

  "Smith, you and James come with me. We won't need any packs, just web gear and rifles."

  I turned to Dolly and commanded, "Dolly, go to Sandra." I smiled as she made her way to my wife.

  Minutes later we arrived at the vehicle with Tom still guarding with the machine gun. Vickie w
as in a prone position near a huge oak. Alisa looked pale and her breathing was shallow and weak.

  Top immediately took charge, "Take everything of value from his vehicle, then rig it with a booby-trap. Pull the radios, cushions, and I mean anything we might need. James, I want this rigged so it explodes as soon as it starts. Smith, grab the far end of the stretcher and I'll get this end. We need to get this young woman back to the medics. Let's move, people!"

  *****

  Hours later, as Sandra and two other medical types worked on Alisa, I sat against an empty crate and ate my first MRE meal of the day. Tom was beside me, eating as well, but he had little appetite.

  "You need to eat," I said.

  He shook his head and said, "I'm more tired than hungry right now. After being up all night before I blew the Claymore, it's taking a toll on my ass."

  "Well, at least eat the entree and then get some sleep. If the bad guys blow the door off this place, you might not get to eat again for a long time."

  "I've thought of that, but if I don't get some sleep, I'll fall on my ass if we have to escape and evade from this joint anyway." He placed his meal in the dirt beside him.

  "Get some rest."

  As he moved to the sleeping area, I saw Sandra approaching me as she wiped blood from her fingers with a towel. Hospital gloves were now a thing of the past and no one used them, because no one had them.

  She stood in front of me and said, "If I remember correctly, your blood type is 0 negative, right?"

  "Yep and it's fairly rare compared to the other blood types. Why?"

  "I need some blood from you, because if we don't get some fresh blood into Alisa she'll be dead by morning."