Fire From The Sky (Book 5): Home Fires

by Reed, N. C.

  “That's a damn good point,” Clay told him. “We're so used to doing things with modern weapons we overlook stuff like that sometimes. You could be absolutely correct. And a well-placed Molotov could do a lot of damage if we're fighting a battle and can't fight the fire.”

  “Whatever it is, we have to deal with it with what's here now,” Clay said. “We can't pull anyone else up here at the moment. Nate has Kade and Zach holding the east side, Pancho, Doc and Chip are in response. There are five of us plus Gary on the tower and we should have an edge in weaponry. We have to put this down.”

  “We can go out and meet them,” Greg said. “They're still far enough out that we can't see them, but why let them get that close? Lay an ambush and nail them.”

  “Cover and concealment are thin from here over,” Vicki was shaking her head. “Mostly pasture and barely-there crops growing. There's no real good place to mount an ambush other than right here.” Greg nodded, accepting her take on the situation. Clay picked up the phone again.

  “Operator,” it was Deuce who answered this time. Good.

  “Leon, I need you to loft the drone again and try and get me more information on this group,” Clay said. “I need to know how many of them there are on foot, and which side of the road they're on. Anything else you can see will just be gravy. See what you can get me.”

  “On it,” Deuce said at once and the line went dead.

  “We’ll wait until we can get more information if we can,” he told the others.

  -

  “What's going on?” Ronny asked as he and Abby arrived at Building Two. Pancho quickly filled them in on the situation.

  “We’ll take the back area again,” Ronny said, indicating himself and Abby. “Just in case. If they tried from that way once they just might do it again.”

  “Once you get there, stay there and keep low,” Pancho agreed. “Don't get out of the hole until we call you. We're still not sure what we're dealing with.” Just then Leon erupted from the building with a drone in hand, which he launched as soon as he could set it down.

  “Uncle Clay wanted me to look again,” he told Pancho as he lofted the drone.

  “We better go,” Ronny told Abby and the two left, hustling toward the back defensive area. Pancho hated for the two of them to be back there alone but things were stretched thin. Jody could cover them at least part way from the cupola, but from the front cupola he couldn't see their position or the area immediately in front of them.

  Tandi had moved to where he could see over Deuce's shoulder, watching the 'take' from the drone's camera as it moved westward toward the approaching enemy. He recognized Leon the Elder's home and then the water tower at the cabins before the picture opened up into grassy fields of pasture.

  “There they are,” Deuce said softly. “Still moving at a crawl.” His lips moved in silence as he counted the men on the ground, rotating the drone to make sure he was seeing them all.

  “I count nineteen on the ground and at least three more in the bed of that truck,” he said finally.

  “Same,” Tandi agreed. “Zoom in on the truck before bringing it back,” he asked. Deuce did so, enlarging the picture once again at the cost of detail.

  “I don't know for sure, but I think they've got some kind of homemade explosive in the bed of that truck,” Tandi said quietly. “There are two people hard at work back there while the third mans that gun. Maybe they're doing something else, but nothing else I know of makes sense. Maybe Molotovs?”

  Deuce started the drone back his way while Tandi called Clay.

  “Bossman, Bossman, this is Doc, how copy?”

  -

  “Go for Bossman,” Clay answered.

  “You're looking at nineteen, say again nineteen foot-mobiles plus another three in the bed and then at least one in the cab, driving. Be advised there is something in the bed they're working on, but we can't see what it is. They're still moving at a crawl.”

  “Roger that,” Clay replied. “Ask Deuce to make a sweep of the rest of the ranch while he's in the air. Make sure we're still clear as far as possible.”

  “We're on it,” Tandi promised. Clay stood still for a few seconds, considering his options.

  “We have to wait for them here unless something tips the scales,” he decided finally. “We can't go out and hit them without using a Cougar, and even then, it would be dicey. I do wish we had one of those Mark 19s up here, though. Lob a few eggs over there and see what they do.”

  “Better to save that for worse times,” Greg suggested. “We can handle no more than they're bringing so long as we stay cool and use our advantages.”

  “We're down four-to-one,” Clay reminded him.

  “We're also dug in on our own ground and likely have fire superiority,” Greg replied. “I wish we had another fighting position up here, maybe behind Leon's house or something. It would be nice if we had two places to fire from.”

  “We get through this we’ll definitely consider that,” Clay agreed. “Meanwhile, we’ll see what Deuce sees.”

  -

  “This is out front of Dad and Abby,” Deuce said as he piloted the drone over the rear areas. “Still clear it looks like.”

  “I don't see anything,” Tandi agreed. “Doesn't guarantee there's nothing there but it looks clear.

  “Five minutes,” Deuce said more to himself than anyone near him. “One more sweep to the east and I have to set it down.” He moved the drone toward where the five infiltrators had been taken down. All five were still there, Nate and the others having withdrawn to cover the farm's eastern approach.

  “Clear,” Deuce said as he started the drone moving back to him. “One battery left,” he told Tandi. “I've got one on the charger that should be full in another thirty minutes or so. If we use the ready battery before the charger is done, we’ll be grounded until it finishes.”

  “We’ll keep that in mind,” Tandi promised. “You did good, kid,” Tandi fist bumped him. “Now get inside. We’ll call you if we need you but this ain't no place for you if you ain't gotta be here.”

  “Works for me.”

  -

  “So, we're still clear everywhere else,” Clay said after getting Leon's report over the field phone. “Okay, we deal with these with what we have. I. . . .” Clay trailed off as he saw Brick moving toward the cabin area, case in hand.

  “That will probably help,” he nodded toward the big man to indicate what he meant. “He can help Gary from the tower and that will provide us with some extra support. Meanwhile we get ready to receive. The way these guys are spread out, they should appear far on the left. I'm going to go inside that cabin,” he pointed to the one-story cabin on the far corner of the square, “and use the cut outs in the shutters. Greg will come with me and we’ll try and draw their fire on us. If we open fire first they might thing they've caught us by surprise and we're shooting from home.”

  “Good idea,” Mitchell nodded. “As soon as the technical clears I’ll try and get a shot. I've only got the one with me though, so I’ll have to be sure before I shoot.”

  “Do make sure, yes,” Clay nodded. “With that gun down our chances of dealing with this easily improve dramatically. Let’s go,” he told Greg. The two wiggled out of the small bunker and moved quickly to the cabin in question, disappearing inside.

  “Like it or not I'm gonna have to go outside to do this,” Mitchell sighed. “Between aiming problems and the back blast, this is no place to use this thing,” he hefted the LAW.

  “Titus, go with him,” Vicki ordered. “He’ll need cover until he can pop the truck. Even then you guys may have to fight from out there. I can make enough noise with the SAW to make them think there's more of us in here than just me.”

  “Okay,” Titus nodded.

  “Here we go then,” Mitchell said and suddenly Vicki was alone. Two minutes before it was so close inside the small bunker that space was at a premium, and now she had it to herself. Even as she watched carefully for the first sign o
f the approaching attack, she thought again to how she had ended up attached to Zach the way she had. That had not been the plan, at all. It was supposed to just be a thing. Friends with benefits sort of thing. Suddenly it was much more, and Zach didn't seem intimidated by it either, so maybe that was a good sign. She was eight years older than he was, but if the situation was reversed, if he was her age and she his, it wouldn't seem out of place at all.

  It would be what it would be, she decided. She couldn't spare the time to think about it now anyway. Hefting the SAW onto the window sill, she waited to see someone appear in front of her, looking to get shot.

  -

  “Stay to the side,” Mitchell warned Titus as the two went to ground behind a downed tree. “This thing has a nasty back blast. You don't want to get caught in it.”

  “Got it,” Titus nodded, scrambling into position. “This is a good spot. This tree will provide some cover.”

  “So, it will,” Mitchell agreed.

  “I can see flashes of the truck through the trees,” Titus said softly. “I can't see the outline of the truck yet, but it's about to break out into the open.”

  “Outstanding,” Mitchell opened the tube. “Like I said, I have to wait for a good shot. Only got the one. We’ll wait as long as we can before you open fire. If I can get this shot off before-,” He was cut off by the report of a very heavy rifle from somewhere behind him, followed by a small explosion about where the truck should be.

  -

  Gary Meecham had been surprised to see Brick climbing into the tower with him, but in hindsight he shouldn't have been. Brick always seemed to turn up when there was trouble. Without a word the big man set a rifle case on the floor and opened it, revealing a massive rifle which he removed along with a loaded magazine.

  “Is that a AS 50?” Meecham asked as he got a good look at the rifle.

  “Actually, it's an AX,” Brick replied as he deployed the bi-pod and set it on the sill on the west side. He inserted the magazine and worked the bolt, placing a round in the chamber.

  “How in the world did you get hold of one?” Gary asked. “They're rare as a hen's tooth.”

  “I know a guy,” Brick shrugged. “He owed me a favor.”

  “He owed you a favor?” Gary repeated, stunned. “That was a hell of a favor!”

  “He made more out of it than it was,” Brick said calmly. “But I wasn't going to turn it down.”

  “Hell no,” Gary said at once. “How are you loaded?”

  “Something my friend got for me,” Brick smiled. “And here comes our guests,” he said more to himself. Setting his eye to the scope, he waited for the truck to clear the tree line. He estimated about two hundred yards before using the attached laser to verify that. Two hundred thirteen yards. Not bad at all.

  “Cover your ears,” he warned as he targeted the truck windshield. If he had this right then the round would go through the glass and probably the wall of the truck bed before it went off. He took two deep, steadying breaths before he began to slowly squeeze the trigger.

  The shot surprised him, just like it was supposed to.

  -

  The Mk 211 round, commonly known as Raufoss after the company that originally developed the ammunition, was a multi-purpose round that served a number of functions. Comprised of an incendiary element, an explosive and finally a tungsten core, it was a near perfect anti-material round ideal for engaging aircraft or light armored vehicles.

  There was a minor amount of controversy over whether using the round was legal according to such papers as the Geneva Convention and organizations such as the Red Cross had tried unsuccessfully to have the ammunition banned outright to prevent its use against personnel.

  Brick had never thought much of such arguments. If he was going to kill someone, what difference would the weapon or ammunition he used make? Dead was still dead, wasn't it?

  The man he had received the rifle from had gifted him a wide variety of ammunition for it, including a healthy dose of the green tipped terror known as 'Raufoss'. The truck coming down the road at a crawl had been a 1973 Chevy K four-wheel drive. Its age had kept it running even after the lights went out and its bulk and power made it ideal for the current usage. The truck also had twin fuel tanks resting outside the rail frame of the chassis, just behind the cab.

  And Brick had just put the incendiary and explosive Raufoss round through the cab at an angle intended to hit one of those tanks.

  As it happened, the round went high as Brick's aim point was slightly off, possibly due to shooting from the tower rather than on the ground. Instead of tearing through the cab and down into the fuel tank before exploding, the round instead burrowed its way through the rear wall of the cab and into the bed where it struck a half full gasoline can that was being used to make homemade firebombs called Molotov Cocktails.

  Sometimes you get lucky.

  -

  “Uh,” Titus sounded as stunned as Mitchell felt. “I'm guessing you won't need your one hit wonder there. Right?”

  “Doesn't look like it,” Mitchell agreed. “Where the hell did that come from?” he asked.

  “I think from the tower,” Titus said. “Maybe it was Brick? Does he have a Barrett? Him or Mister Meecham, either one?” Titus knew that Meecham had owned a gun store before the fall and was a gunsmith of some renown locally.

  “Damned if I know,” Mitchell replied. “Let’s see if we can use this distraction to get back inside,” he ordered. Moving low to the ground, they managed to get back inside without drawing any fire.

  “Didn't get your rocks off after all, huh?” was the first thing Vicki said.

  “Do you know where that came from?” Mitchell asked her as he 'safed' the LAW.

  “I'm fairly certain it came from the tower,” she informed him. “Since Brick had just gone up there, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say he's sitting up there with a big bore rifle, which I did not know he had,” she added unnecessarily.

  “Shit, me neither,” Mitchell agreed. “I don't know what he used, or else what he hit, but I don't think the LAW could have done much more damage.”

  “Well, unfortunately it didn't kill the guys on foot, and I'd say they're pissed about now.”

  -

  “What in the hell?” Clay forgot where he was for a second and stood up from his crouch, trying to see out the window.

  “Who has a fifty up here?” Greg demanded. “I thought you only had two and they were down below?”

  “There's two in use,” Clay didn't quite admit there might be more. “And none here. I... that had to be Brick. He is constantly surprising the shit outta me. I have got to find out how him and Leon know each other, man.”

  “Probably some kinda seedy, underworld type shit, man,” Greg nodded. “What?” he added when he noted Clay giving him a sort of stink eye. “Dude, don't even pretend you don't know,” the former deputy snorted. “You know I love that Old Man just like he was my own grandpa too, but let’s be honest here. He probably can't remember the last time he made an honest dollar.”

  “Then why didn't you arrest him for it?” Clay demanded playfully.

  “Please,” Greg snorted. “Didn't I just say he was practically my Old Man too? I'd have quit first. He wasn't hurting anyone that didn't need it, and wasn't stealing from anyone, either. There was plenty to keep me occupied without worrying about him.”

  “Makes sense,” Clay said thoughtfully. “Meantime, we're about to get some company.”

  “Boy, I bet they're mad,” Greg almost sang and Clay laughed in spite of everything.

  “I imagine so.”

  -

  “Damn shame about that 1919,” Gary Meecham sighed as he watched the truck burning. “Damn thing was a collector's item.”

  “Perhaps it can be salvaged from the wreck-,” Brick's statement was cut off by another explosion as a gas tank on the truck cooked off.

  “-age,” Brick finished. “Or not,” he added.

  “Damn shame,” Meecham repe
ated, shaking his head. “Just a damn shame.”

  -

  “Titus, you've got left,” Mitchell said as he took the right side himself as it was the flank. “We really do need a hole across the road,” he said more to himself than anything else.

  “It would help,” Vicki agreed. “I got eleven Zombies to front,” she continued, shifting gears easily. “I see a couple AKs, at least three ARs. . .one, two three, four shotguns. . .and at least three deer rifles,” she finished. “All bolt guns so expect heavy rounds,” she added a warning. “Range fifty meters, ish.”

  “Is 'ish' an official measurement?” Titus asked. “And if so, how much is 'ish' exactly.”

  “It's more that give and less than take,” Mitchell snorted. “Two have crossed the road. I don't know if they're trying to flank us or looking for where the shot came from or-,” He was interrupted yet again by the sound of a large bore rifle as one of the two invaders he had observed across the road disintegrated even as he was looking at him. What was left of the man hit the ground in three pieces.

  “Ho-lee-shit! That's gonna leave a bruise for sure.”

  -

  “Damn,” Gary Meecham said, the only word he could think of for the carnage he was seeing.

  “Indeed,” Brick nodded even as he targeted the second man that had crossed the street and destroyed him as well before he could find cover.

  “That would break my shoulder,” Gary said simply.

  “Free floating barrel and port system reduce recoil,” Brick was shaking his head. “Want to try it?” he offered.

  “Hell yes!” Gary set his own weapon in a small rack and reverently took the massive rifle in hand.

  “It's loaded with full metal jacket now,” Brick told him. “The scope zero is three hundred yards, flat trajectory. Trigger pull is three pounds.”

  “Sweet,” Meecham was barely listening, so intent was he on the rifle itself.