by A. American
I held my hand up. “No, no, we’re not going to burden you folks. We have our own food. You folks go ahead, and we’ll eat what we brought.”
Danny had gone to the boat earlier and filled a pack with MREs with this very situation in mind. He’d also made sure the boat was secure. As it turned out, the community had assigned someone to watch it, so it wasn’t an issue. Danny slid the pack off his shoulder and opened it. Taking an MRE, I said, “See. We’re good. You folks go ahead. We’ll go take a seat.”
Sarge grabbed a meal as well and looked at Mom and Dad. “You folks want one? We’ve got plenty.”
“Why not,” Dad said. “This’ll be interesting.”
As we walked to a table, several people asked, “Where did you get those?” We were a little elusive about how we came to have them. Simply saying they were found. The four of us helped Mom sort out what to do with the package and soon we all had something heating as we nibbled on some of the other contents.
“There’s a lot here,” Mom said.
“Better than C-rats,” Dad added.
“Anything’s better than those damn cans!” Sarge nearly shouted.
“You guys could have eaten what was fixed,” Mom said.
“I know. But it didn’t look like they had a lot there. And three of us bellying up to the buffet wouldn’t look good in my opinion. Every bite we take is one less that someone here can have.”
Mom smeared cheese spread onto a cracker and looked at Danny, “I’m so sorry about Bobbie. I was looking forward to seeing her.”
“Thanks. There was nothing we could do. It happened pretty fast.”
Mom picked at her cracker. “I’m very sorry.”
As we were eating, an old man at the table beside us turned and asked, “How did you get gas for that boat?”
“We did something with the government,” Sarge said. “They gave it to us.”
“What’s the government doing?” The man asked. “I haven’t heard anything out of them.”
Hearing that made me realize I hadn’t listened to the radio in a long time and knew nothing of what may be going on. But with the old man’s contacts, I’m sure if there were something I needed to know about, I would.
We spent the rest of the evening telling the group some of the things that had happened, as we know them. We made a point to not engage in speculation with any of the crazy theories some had. These people have been in a total vacuum since The Day. And here we were, from the outside with tales they couldn’t imagine.
“What do you mean the Russians invaded?” A woman asked.
“They didn’t invade, at least according to them,” Sarge replied. “They claimed they were here to help. Purely humanitarian.”
“What are we going to do about them?”
“They’ve already been dealt with,” I replied.
As surprised as the people were hearing about the Russians, they were shocked when they were told that we nuked a Chinese fleet and they retaliated against Tampa.
“Did we strike them back?” A man asked.
“No,” Sarge replied, shaking his head. “It was decided it was best not to. No sense in turning it into a full exchange; we have enough trouble.”
“I agree with that,” a woman replied as she took a bite of fish.
Another man walked up and surveyed our group. “What I want to know is, what the hell is the government doing? We haven’t seen a soul from the government since all this started. What the hell are those people doing?”
“All we know is, the Department of Defense is in charge now. The President invited the foreigners in and the DOD kicked them out,” Sarge replied.
“So, where’s the President?”
“In a hole underground,” I replied.
“Not anymore,” Sarge replied, surprising me.
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah. I got word right before we left. They got him out last week. He’s in custody now.”
“That’s not right! With everything that’s going on already and now there’s a coup?”
“It was for the best,” Sarge replied.
“For the best? It’s as wrong as it could be!” The woman shouted back. “We shouldn’t be living in a police state!”
This made me laugh out loud. “A Police State? You’ve already said you haven’t seen a soul since things changed. If you think about it, what does it matter who is in charge?”
“So, what?” The woman asked. “We just wait here to be hauled off to camps then?”
“Ma’am, why would anyone want to haul you off to a camp?” Danny asked.
“What else does a Police State do?” She replied.
“We haven’t seen one lately,” I replied. “We did take one down months ago and freed all the people.”
The woman looked incredulous. “I don’t believe that.”
A man came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Come on, Maureen. I think you’re worked up enough now. Let’s go home.”
The woman leveled a finger at me. “I don’t believe you. And what’s with that badge? You part of this coup?”
“No ma’am. I try to provide the people of my community with some level of law enforcement. My days are spent dealing with stolen chickens and theft in general. It’s not fun and I didn’t want the damn job.”
Sarge reached out and slapped me on the back. “But you’re doing a hell of a job!”
Thankfully, the man managed to pull Maureen away as she was about to spout off again. My head was starting to hurt, and I told Dad I was going outside. Mom started chatting Danny and Sarge up as Dad and I walked outside. We wandered down to the river and stood at the edge of the dark water. I reached into my pocket and took out the can of Cope. It was now less than half of a can I noticed as I lifted the top.
I turned on my flashlight and held it out. Dad looked at it in utter disbelief. As he took a pinch, he asked, “Where in the hell did you get that?”
“It came from Eglin. We have a couple of first rate scrounges in our merry band.”
He held the can back out and I took a pinch for myself. “Let me see that light,” Dad said. I handed it over.
He clicked it on and shined it at the far bank of the small cove of the marina. He laughed and clicked it off. Then back on. “I haven’t seen an artificial light in, well, I can’t remember.”
“That’s why I want you guys to come with me. Life is much better back at home, I promise.”
Dad spit into the water, the slight splash the only indication he did. “How in the world do you have power?”
“You remember that little solar setup I had?” Dad nodded, and I continued. “Well, it’s been a lifesaver. But it shouldn’t matter soon.”
“Why not?”
“We’re working to restore power. That little gas turbine at the orange juice plant is up and running. It took us some time and the help of a bunch of Army engineers, but it’s functioning now and we’re clearing lines and moving it out our way. We restored Eustis right before the attack. I mean, we had the power there, but hadn’t turned in on yet. But everything was damaged so bad, we had to abandon that idea.”
“Hard to believe. When this shit started, I figured it was the end. But if you guys can manage to restore power in your little town. Maybe there’s a chance.”
“There’s always a chance. Unless you’re dead; and we ain’t dead yet. So, we keep going, trying. What else is there to do?”
We stayed at Mom and Dad’s that night. Being a nice guy, I let the old man have the spare bedroom and I took the couch. We used a manual pump to inflate an air mattress for Danny and laid it out on the dining room floor. The house was hot and humid. The air hung thick like old drapes and had a presence of its own. Then there was the silence. It was quiet as a tomb. It made me really miss home where there was a fan to at least move the air and more importantly, provide some white noise. Tonight, all I had was the ringing in my ears.
The still silence wouldn’t last long though. Someti
me around midnight, we heard a gunshot. Bolting upright, I had to wonder if I really heard it, or if it was just my imagination. The answer came quickly in form of fusillade of gunfire. I turned on my light, keeping it cupped in my hand to prevent it from lighting up too much, and moved towards the door. Dad, Sarge and Danny were all there. Mom was in the hallway, a small Smith and Wesson pistol in her hand.
“We’re being raided again,” Dad said.
“You’ve got help this time,” Sarge replied as he picked up the Minimi.
I grabbed my pack and took out the PVS-14. Unstrapping the helmet secured to the pack, I snapped the device into its mount. “Yes, you do,” I replied as I picked up the AK and messenger-style bag with spare magazines and VOGs. I handed my AR to Dad along with several magazines.
“Where are they coming from?” Danny asked as he adjusted his night vision.
“Sounds like the shooting is up front. But I doubt the main assault will come from there. This is a diversion,” Dad replied.
Mom and Dad’s house was in the center of the small community. We walked outside and could hear gunfire towards the gate that led out of the neighborhood. Even with the night vision, we saw nothing from our location so deep in the houses.
“With the weapons you guys have, I think we should hang out here and see where the main attack comes from. Then go there,” Dad said.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Sarge replied. “Then go there and kill every fucking one of them.”
It didn’t take long to figure out this was the main attack. The raiders had an old truck they’d armored in a haphazard fashion with whatever plates of steel they could find. As the sound of the shooting near the gate grew, we ran towards it. We encountered several of the residents moving in the same direction. Before long, we were a sizeable force responding to the attack. When we got to a point we could see the gate and the defenders doing their best to hold back the assault, we split up into groups.
Sarge and Danny ran to take up positions opposite the gate where the community had built fortifications of sorts. Dad and I, along with several others, moved to a flanking position to the left of the gate. There was a lot of gunfire coming in.
“Must be a damn pile of them,” Dad said as bullets cracked in the air over our heads.
“Let’s see if we can even the odds,” I said as I snapped a grenade into the launcher. It seated with a click and I held the weapon at an angle and pulled the launcher’s trigger. It went off with a shtock sound and moments later detonated outside the gate.
As soon as the grenade exploded, the old man opened up with the Minimi. He fired in long bursts, the tracers racing out and slapping into the truck, ricocheting and arching up into the night sky like cheap fireworks that never detonated. All incoming fire ceased. I took off at a trot in the direction of the fortifications. They were opposite the gate and offered a view down the road.
Falling in beside Sarge, I had to stick a finger in my right ear. That damn Minimi was loud! I looked over the top of the sandbags to see the truck backing down the road away from the gate. The raiders were attempting to take cover, keeping the retreating truck between them and us. Snapping another grenade into the launcher, I propped the AK on top of the bags and held it at a very slight angle, shtock!
The grenade impacted on the hood of the truck and detonated; these fireworks worked! But the impact wasn’t like in the movies; most things never are. There was no enormous blinding flash or massive fireball. The raiders had armored the front of the truck and the windshield, but not the hood. The detonation ripped into the hood and blew the steel plate over the windshield off. The blast started a fire in the engine compartment, which quickly grew as a result of a ruptured fuel line. All the windows were blown out as well.
I watched the truck. Sarge made short work of anyone that tried to run from it, but I never saw the driver exit. The shooting soon died down and it was quiet, except for the fire consuming the truck, which was now fully engulfed. We came out from behind the barricade and walked towards the gate in the light of the dancing flames but didn’t go through it. People from the community began to gather at the gate and all of them wanted to know what the hell just happened. The crowd stood in silence as the truck burned. The sound of glass breaking and things popping.
A couple of people that saw me fire the grenades came over and asked how I did it. I showed them the AK with the launcher on it and more than one commented, they didn’t expect that! That’ll teach ‘em!
“I don’t think they’ll be back,” Sarge said.
“I think you’re right,” Dad said. “This was way more than they expected, considering what happened the last two times.”
An older man sidled up to me and asked, “Can I have that? Can you leave that with us?”
I looked at the rifle, then at Sarge. He shrugged, and I asked the man, “You know how to use this?”
“I spent three years in Vietnam in the Corps.”
I handed him the rifle and he expertly removed the magazine and cleared the weapon. He replaced the round from the chamber into the mag and reinserted it into the weapon, charged it and put it on safe. I figured, what the hell, we’ve got plenty of them.
“Looks like he knows what he’s doing with it,” Sarge laughed.
I unslung the bag and handed it over. “There are mags in here and a bunch of grenades. You know how it works?”
“They didn’t have those back then.”
I demonstrated how to load the launcher and fire it. It’s a simple process and he understood it immediately. “That’s easy enough,” he replied when I finished.
“I hope you don’t need it. But if you do, you’ll have it.”
“Damn straight,” he replied.
Several men, including the one I had just given the AK to, said they would stay up for the rest of the night in case the raiders came back. With more than enough volunteers, we decided to go back to Dad’s and get another hour or two of sleep.
Dad pointed at the burning truck and said, “You may want to stay away from that truck. If there’s any ammo or anything in it, it’s going to cook off and possibly explode.”
“We’re staying behind the sandbags,” one of the men said.
Before we left, Sarge looked at the men staying and said, “Don’t go out that gate tonight. We’ll go out there tomorrow and clear the area. Safer in the light of day.” The men were all eager to stay put; there was no way in hell they were going out there in the dark. With that settled, we headed back to the house.
As we walked, Dad asked, “What is that thing, Linus?”
Sarge looked at the short machine gun slung under his shoulder. “It’s a Minimi. The Army calls it an M249. This is a paratrooper version, so it’s shorter and lighter.”
“What’s it shoot?”
“The 5.56. It’s a light weapon.”
“It shoots like a damn firehose,” Dad replied.
“That’s why I like it. Better than an M4. Carries more ammo and fires at a higher rate.”
With a nod, Dad said, “I like it too. Looks lighter and easier to shoot than the M-60 that I carried.”
We made it back to the house and Dad told us to wait a sec. He went to the door and knocked out an odd pattern. The door opened, and Mom peeked out. She’d sat in a chair looking at the door since we left. We came inside and gave her the details of what happened.
“That’s why I’m afraid to leave. These are our friends,” Mom said.
“I gave them a weapon that will more than equalize the situation for them,” I said.
Dad laughed. “Yeah you did. Blew that truck all to hell.”
Mom fidgeted for a moment, then said, “I don’t think I can go back to sleep.”
“You’re safe now,” Sarge said. “They were running for the hills, and I think we at least took out several of them. No way those who escaped will be back. Ever.”
“Come on,” Dad said as he took Mom’s hand. “I’m tired. Let’s try and get a little sleep. I have
an idea that tomorrow will be a long day.”
Reluctantly, she followed him and we all returned to where we were before the shooting started. Even with the heat, humidity and adrenalin, I fell asleep quickly. Stirrings in the house woke me before dawn. I sat up to see Dad and Sarge in the kitchen.
“You want some?” Sarge asked.
“Where in the hell did you find real coffee?” Dad asked.
“We’ve made a couple of trips to Eglin. There’s aid coming in from Europe and a couple other places. Canada is doing a lot. Mainly to stop the refugees at the border from trying to go north.”
As I walked into the kitchen, Dad took a coffee cup down from the cupboard. Blowing the dust out of it, he held it out, “I haven’t seen coffee in months.”
As Sarge filled the cup from his thermos, I said, “Dad, I thought you drank a lot of coffee,” then pointed at Sarge, “Then I met him.”
“One of these days, you’ll grow up, your nuts’ll drop and you’ll learn to appreciate coffee,” Sarge replied.
“He’s just never spent time in a place where the only thing that kept you going was coffee. We didn’t just drink it, we lived on it,” Dad replied.
“Maybe not,” I replied as I twisted the top of my jug of tea. “But I live in Florida where it’s a million degrees in the summer. And I know that a cool drink will always beat a scalding cup of coffee any day.”
“You don’t know nothin’ about nothin’,” Sarge replied.
After I filled my glass, sadly there wasn’t any ice. I asked, “You want to go down to the gate and take a look at what’s left out there?”
“Yeah, let’s get out there and see what it looks like,” Sarge said.
Danny came out of the dining room, rubbing his face. Sarge looked at him, saying, “Well, if you can’t get here on time, get here when you can.”
I offered him the bottle of tea and he took a long drink. Looking at the bottle, he said, “Still cold.”
“Gotta love Yeti bottles,” I replied.
“You two done making out?” Sarge asked. “We got work to do.”
I shook my head and collected my gear as Mom came out. Opening my pack, I took out an MRE and handed it to her. “Here, this is a breakfast. Not the best, but it’ll fill a hollow spot.”