The fence would work to a point, but it wasn’t foolproof.
The team had brought back six Strykers, fully armed and fully loaded with fuel. The farm wasn’t so large as the vehicles could be hidden very well. Danny, Jamal and Nick built earthen berms so the vehicles could shoot from improved positions.
The kids found ways to camouflage the bunkers and Randy and Kellie gave awards to the best job. Since they had so few people at the farm, two of the armored vehicles were held in reserve near the motorhomes while three others were stationed nearer to the perimeter in the rear, more open area of the farm to give them a larger field of fire. They’d also been positioned so they could with minimal movement protect the shelter entrance.
The sixth Stryker was hidden behind Buff’s bunker and would be used to defend the southwest side of the farm. In a fight around the front of the farm, the big vehicle would be limited in its movements because of the limited space.
Kayla, who immediately fell in love with the Apache, got the 30 mm cannon armed and tested. She didn’t know enough about the Hellfire missiles, but figured they wouldn’t need them against the kind of force Cleve said they could reasonably expect. She was also concerned about contamination of the AVGAS, but when she started the attack helicopter, it ran up to speed without a cough.
She flew it to a spot cleared out near the farm, but because there was no place to hide it inside the fence, it was hidden outside the fenced in area and a trench was dug so she could get to the machine and take off and be in the air in less than six minutes from first call and three minutes if she was sitting in it.
Buff had found both regular and armor piercing rounds by the ton and it took three trips to fill the ammo dump they’d built on the farm. They got all the ammo they wanted.
Eddie and Randy, with help from the military men, took great joy in blowing up the ammo bunker at the depot. Everyone outside on the farm heard the echo of the explosion.
Each bunker now had a weapon that could crack an engine block, but the problem Jerry was finding was not enough people to shoot the heavy weapons. They would make do, he told them. They had what they had and no amount of wishing would change that.
Juan, Josh and Josh’s daughter found a pallet of green plastic bags and filled them to use as sand bags around the top hatch of the shelter. Jerry said this was where he’d be and no one wanted the man who had brought them so far, to be hurt.
Kellie and LT practiced escaping from the shelter with the baby, younger kids and Cindy, through the new passage from the cellar of the shelter. They couldn’t work a tunnel, but they had enough wood and equipment to dig and camouflage a trench that went from the cellar of the shelter to behind the motorhomes and beyond the fence to a trio of SUVs that were fueled, packed with food and water and well hidden. If things went bad, those who could escape were to head to Indiana and Ft. Benjamin Harrison and ask for sanctuary.
The option to run was raised for the farm to avoid confrontation with Cheryl. It was voted down by everyone who had a vote. Jerry had not meant to create a thriving community where people cared about one another. There was food and water, shelter and friendship. It was hard work, but it was worth it and no one wanted to give up without trying. Everyone knew the risks, but they believed in Jerry and the rest to protect them.
This place had become their new home and they’d not be pushed off it by some vengeful crazy woman.
That evening, when the sun had set and all work had been completed as it could that day, the “command group” met in the shelter’s kitchen. There was one person in the control bunker, monitoring the perimeter and one person in a “crow’s nest” Nick had welded to one of the wind mills. The crow’s nest allowed a 360-degree view of the surrounding area and someone was in it all the time now with binoculars or one of the night vision scopes.
Jerry laid it out for them. He had spoken with Cleve and Buff extensively over the previous few days. He wanted as little bloodshed as possible and the safety of everyone was of paramount importance.
Cleve said an attack would most likely happen in the early morning hours if they had night vision gear. The farm now had the same type of equipment at every bunker. If it didn’t come at night, then it would probably be in the early morning.
As far as Cheryl knew, they weren’t expecting an attack and her surprise would be a farm armed to the teeth and ready to defend itself.
“We don’t know who she’s bringing or what they have been told. We don’t want to kill innocent men and women who are just following orders to shut down what they think is a violent and lawless encampment,” He said as they finished up for the night.
“If we can find some way to communicate our peaceful intentions we will, but if they come in here guns blazing, our first priority is defending ourselves and the people here.”
Everyone nodded. They’d all talked about what they would do if attacked and all knew what their individual missions were. They also knew how they fit into the big picture Jerry had laid out for them.
Jerry sent them all off to bed. He didn’t know for sure, but felt with Keith’s warning there was an attack coming soon and he wanted everyone rested as best they could. As they all left the shelter, Jerry noticed Eddie take Monica’s hand. He was happy for them and hoped the next few days went in such a way they could have a happy life.
Kellie watched as Hannah headed back to her mom’s motorhome. She had her tablet with her and was reading something on it as she walked with the adults. For a nine-year-old, she was acting very adult and Kellie loved the little girl.
Jerry and Kellie watched until all were safely in their homes. Kellie took Jerry’s hand and leaned her head on his shoulder as he looked skyward. He saw the ISS as it passed into the shadow of earth and thought of the Russian commander who died alone in space.
“I was never afraid to die alone,” Jerry said. “What scared me was dying and no one caring. He,” he pointing to the sky and referring to Col. Rustov, “died after doing everything he could to save his friends. At the time, I thought it was the bravest thing I’d ever heard of. Those guys and girls who just left showed me that bravery comes from all sorts of people.”
The two walked back into the shelter, closing but not locking the door. If there were an emergency, everyone knew the escape route for the children went right through the shelter.
Kellie left her surveillance equipment powered on in expectation of the attack.
Jerry already had a loaded sniper rifle, an M60 machine gun with 150 rounds and two radios ready at his position at the top of the shelter. Kellie had Mini-Beryl 96 close assault rifle loaded and sitting next to her desk. The shelter was possibly the most secure area of the farm, but no one was taking chances.
They turned the lights off and went to bed. Both were tired from the long days of preparation, but knew they’d have to at least try to get some sleep. Jerry loved their bedroom as much as Kellie did. It was simple and austere but still had warmth about it.
Molly got on the bed first and Kellie shoved the little dog to the side. Tonight she would lie beside Jerry and the dog be damned. He turned off the light on his nightstand and pulled the blankets over him.
“I love you,” she whispered and kissed his neck. “I love you, too, Kellie.” He stroked her hair, hoping this was not the last night he’d be able to.
* * *
Cheryl’s platoon made good time. After a day of driving at 30 miles per hour, she allowed everyone six hours of sleep. She wanted them rested for the next day. The men had brought tents for the overnight. No one wanted to try to clear any buildings in the dark. They found a level area far between any towns and with a good view all around for the sentries Cheryl ordered to stand guard in one-hour shifts through the night.
Her senior NCO and driver, SSgt. Leo Byers, woke her up just before 0500 and gave her 10 minutes of privacy before waking everyone else up. By 0530 the seven-vehicle convoy was back on the road.
She had one of the vigilantes who had attacked the
farm in her truck and she questioned him extensively. She learned the farm hadn’t improved their defensive posture much since her escape. She believed they were still living in the hope everyone would leave them alone to live in peace and contentment. She did learn about where the farm had its defenses set up from the man when he and his band of thugs had attacked.
She remembered the layout the farm well from when she followed Randy around in those damned leg irons and was sure the simple farmer and his people would have the same defenses that had worked for them before.
Sure, they might have improved them with barricades and maybe some camouflage, but she had the heavy machine guns and M-134 mini Gatling gun which would tear through their wooden barriers they set up.
The more Cheryl thought it over, the more confident she became with her plan. There’d be refinements and she’d have to improvise, but she could do that. The trick was to make sure the soldiers with her didn’t realize her real plan wasn’t the one they thought they were on.
Cheryl wanted the farm and complete control of it. She wanted Farmer Jerry dead and if things worked out, the fat girl who shot and killed her brother’s friend put in the leg irons for a while. After a few weeks of starving her, she’d turn her over to some vigilante group who knew what to do with young women.
With herself in charge of the farm, she could set up real defenses and build a real army, not like that joke Lt. Col. Smith had set up, but a real army of men and women. She’d be in charge and only her most trusted people would be her lieutenants and they’d remain loyal because she knew how to take care of soldiers. The president had declared martial law, which gave her the authority to be the law.
They arrived just north of Birmingham an hour before first light following their breaking of camp. They were able to refuel from a tanker truck they’d discovered at a truck stop that had been destroyed and burned. The tanker still had enough diesel to re-fuel all her HUMVEEs.
It was Cheryl’s idea they pull the front of a building down using the winch on the front of one of their HUMVEEs. When they did, four zombies came rushing out. They were easily cut down by the four M-2s on the trucks covering the HUMVEE doing the winching. The .50 caliber machine gun could cut a car in half and made short work of the super strong mutant humans.
Inside the building, which had taken damage from the front facade being pulled off as well as the machine guns, the men found some canned goods and beer so they didn’t have to eat just MREs. The easy kills lifted the spirits of the men and Cheryl allowed them to celebrate with the beer they found. She didn’t let the men get drunk, but because beer was severely rationed on the base if she’d tried to keep them from drinking some of it now, she might have had a mutiny on her hands.
Their morale was as high as she could make it. She allowed them enough beer to feel good and then had the men store several cases for later enjoyment. They were excited about the mission and excited that by this afternoon they might be sitting around drinking beer with dozens of women grateful at being freed from capture.
With the trucks fueled and the men feeling better than they had in months, she laid out her plan of attack. On the ground she drew a rough map of the farm, just like the one the vigilante had drawn for her on a sheet of paper.
While she talked like a military professional with experience in setting up attacks on fortified positions, most of what she was really doing was feeding them bullshit. She’d chosen her men carefully, leaving out any NCO that might see through her lack of knowledge and experience.
Her driver, and the senior NCO of the men she had with her, had been a PFC in the regular Army before the Great Death, but he did have some training, a year and a half of active duty, and was promoted by the commander and Capt. DenHarTog.
Cheryl had served in the Army for less than four years and was given a dishonorable discharge at the end, but she’d edited that out of the story she told Lt. Col. Smith. She spun lies as easy as spiders spun webs.
The men she brought with her on this mission believed she was outlining plans on an invasion that rivaled the brilliance of Normandy with her use of military terms. “The first element will move into position here,” she said, drawing the driveway of the farm and locations for the barn and garage.
“There will be improved positions here, here, and here,” she said placing pieces of broken stick the ground. “These positions will be neutralized by HUMVEEs Number 1 and Number 2 of the first element. They will work as primary and wingman. HUMVEEs Number 3 and Number 4 of the first element will destroy a barn and garage and provide covering fire for the first element.” She tapped the locations of two squares she’d drawn. “They are also tasked with destroying any vehicles, but not farming vehicles. We want to stop anyone from escaping, but not the ability to keep working the farm.”
“HUMVEEs Number 5 and Number 6 are identified as the second element. They will enter the enemy base from here after the defenders have focused on the attention on the front of the farm.” She pointed to where the back gate was on the farm.
“By the time the second element enters the farm, there should be little if any resistance. They’ll be there mostly to close off any retreat by the farmers through the rear entrance to block any escape. Number 5 will stay by the gate while Number 6 captures the motorhome they have parked here.
“My HUMVEE will follow them in after they have put down any resistance. We’ll attack the fortified shelter which is at the base of a rather tall hill, here.” She made another tap on the ground. “We’ll shoot out the door to the shelter and rescue the women inside, who are being held in the basement. We’ll herd them into the motorhome and drive them out of there. Once we have them secured, every man who moves on that farm gets neutralized with extreme prejudice.
“No man lives after we get the women secured, even if they try to surrender. They’ve already shown what type of people they are and we don’t need prisoners.”
Her real reason was she didn’t want any of the men on the farm correcting her story. The lie about women being in the cellar of the shelter was to keep the men interested in the mission.
The real reason she assigned her HUMVEE to attack the shelter was to make sure no one was left alive after the attack. She was sure there were only a few women on the farm and they would be fighting side by side with the men. They would die as well, but by the time the soldiers on the mission discovered this, the farm would be hers. Once the farm was hers, she could control the men and get them some women.
She knew how to control men.
The lies she she’d told the commander of the Smith Compound and the ones she was telling now would all crumble around her if anyone on the farm survived the day. She would make sure no one did.
Cheryl remembered the children being there and she doubted any of the soldiers would shoot kids. She’d allow them to live if they were able to survive. It had been almost six months since she’d been on that farm and for a kid, six months was almost a lifetime. She doubted any child would remember her from the brief time she’d been in the shelter.
“The farmers are armed with high-powered hunting rifles, but our HUMVEES give us a force multiplier, so I expect everyone here to be able to survive.
“They have cameras set up all around the farm, so watch for them and shoot them if you get a chance. They are located in these trees, on the barn, at the top of this hill and along this area,” she said, pointing to the map on the ground again.
“We’ll be taking back to camp as many as 50 women maybe more, who will be grateful for what you men are doing today. I think your lives will improve markedly,” she told them. They’d all had just enough beer to have their inhibitions lowered and they cheered her and her bold plan. She’d whipped them into a fighting frenzy and dangled women in front of sex-starved men. It was the ultimate motivational force for these men.
Any decent NCO would have seen the flaws in the captain’s plans. She was going in nearly blind and with no reserve force. She didn’t think Jerry and his fr
iends could have set up any type of decent defense or give serious resistance against seven heavily-armed HUMVEEs. She hadn’t even requested a reconnaissance of the farm for improvements to their defense. She had one thing in mind and that was to finish wiping those people off the face of the earth.
Those people had captured her, killed her brother and a close friend and two other associates. Now she was going to repay the favor. If the farm survived, great, if not, she’d find someplace else to take, but she swore that no adult living on that farm was going to live to see the sunset.
The men broke up and headed back to their HUMVEEs. The vigilante who had been in her truck grabbed her by the arm. “I didn’t tell you anything about a shelter or motorhomes. You’ve been there before,” he deduced correctly.
“Take your hand off me you piece of shit or I swear to God you will wish you’d never breathed air,” she said very quietly through clenched teeth. The man let go and she saw fear in his eyes. “Yes, I was there and I was held prisoner. There are some seriously sick bastards there and I intend to kill them all. People like them don’t deserve to live. Now shut your hole and get in the truck.”
She hated the vigilantes whose opinion of the farmers was exactly the same as her opinion.
* * *
General Angela Parker was everything Amanda imagined her to be and more. Amanda had been awakened by Chopper needing out before the sun was all the way up. While he was busy, Amanda found a jogging suit in the dresser along with clean socks. She took Chopper with her on a two-mile run. Other soldiers were out, most running in groups of four or five, doing morning physical training as well. They waved and smiled at Amanda running with her dog.
When she was returning to her room, she was met by a young soldier knocking on her door. “I’m already awake, soldier. What can I do for you,” she asked as she and her dog walked down the hall to her room.
“Good morning, Sergeant Sanders,” the private said referring to his note. “I’m from General Parker’s office and she’d like to speak with you when you’re ready.”
Hell happened (Book 2): Hell Revisited Page 20