The Fall of the Dragon: An Apocalyptic Survival Series

by Steven Kagey

  “Heads up,” Brian said into the radio, “Looks like it's show time people.”

  Brian saw David running behind the workshop; he turned and gave Brian a thumbs up. Brian looked in the dining room window and saw Sean helping Brenda gather the radios off the table and head to the basement door. Daniel was standing in the window looking down the road.

  “Daniel,” he called, “remember to shoot from back in the room so they don’t see you up there.”

  Daniel gave a short wave of acknowledgment and backed up into the room until Brian couldn’t see him anymore. Brian dropped down into the hole and closed the hatch all but a few inches.

  Sean said, “Looks like that captain can be trusted after all.”

  “Don’t give it to him yet,” Craig said. “Looks like we got two Hummers coming instead of one this time.”

  Brian was painting a mental picture of what Craig was describing.

  “Son of a bitch!” Craig exclaimed. “Those bastards are driving my truck around!”

  Sean said, “That’s a good thing, it means they’re bringing it back to you, and you don’t have to go get it. They are bringing me a Hummer.”

  “Stay focused people,” Brian interjected.

  “Houston, we have a problem,” Craig said. “Oh shit do we have a problem. Your captain may have screwed us. Both Hummers have 50 cals mounted on them!”

  Brian’s heart sank. “Shit! Do they have high metal collars around the gunners?”

  “Yeah, and it looks like there’s a shield around the gun itself.”

  “Nothing in the house or shop will stop a 50 cal!” Brian said. “The sandbags will not protect you. We may have to abort.”

  Sean said, “Brenda and I are in the basement.”

  “I’m good,” Daniel said, “let’s do it.”

  Brian said, “Okay, these are up-armored HUMVEEs. Change of plan. Daniel, you are the only one that is going to have an angle to shoot the gunners. As soon as the porch ignites, you need to take out the gunner in the lead Hummer. He’s going to be wearing a helmet and body armor. You need to shoot him in the neck or face.”

  “Roger, neck or face of the lead gunner,” Daniel said.

  “Once you take out the lead gunner you need to transition and hit the second one; then you can go after the Tannerite.”

  Craig radioed, “They are two hundred yards from the gate.”

  “Copy, keep the descriptions and positions coming.” Brian lowered the hatch on the spider hole all the way.

  Craig said, “Looks like my truck is in the lead. I can see Gill in the front passenger seat. They’re followed by a Hummer, then an older Chevy truck, and the second Hummer is in the rear. They don’t have the deuce and a half with them this time.”

  “Everyone breathe, we got this. Remember your jobs and pay attention,” Brian said.

  “They’re at the gate,” Craig reported. “A deputy jumped out of the bed of my truck with bolt cutters, and he’s removing the chain from the gate. He looks to be wearing some police body armor like on SWAT.”

  Brian said, “That’s fine. That is what we planned for.”

  “The Chevy and one of the Hummers got into position like they were last time. My truck and one of the Hummers is coming up the driveway. Don’t shoot my truck!”

  Brian put an ear bud in his ear and plugged the headphones into his radio. “Everyone steady. Brenda move the curtain when they park and then take cover in the basement.”

  “My truck is in front of the workshop,” Craig said. “The Hummer is on the other side in front of the garage. They parked.”

  After a few seconds with no updates, Brian could hear the vehicles pulling up in front of him. “Sean and I are blind down below, what’s going on?”

  Craig said, “Sorry, didn’t press the transmit button. They’re unloading. You got four deputies and four guardsmen at the house. Four more guardsmen and three deputies are at the gate. Gunners have stayed in the turrets, and everyone else is taking cover behind the vehicle doors.”

  “You in the house!” someone called out on a bullhorn. “Come out with your hands up. We know you’re in there; we can see you at the curtains. Do not make this harder than it needs to be.”

  Sean stuck his head up from the basement door and yelled out, “You already took everything from us, leave us in peace!”

  Brian could tell it was Gill talking on the bullhorn.

  “We have reports of you hoarding more food,” Gill said. “By order of the President of the United States it is to be turned in for distribution for the good of the nation.”

  Sean did not reply; he was simply letting them hear him in the house, so they would continue to focus their attention on it.

  Craig said, “Two deputies and two guardsmen have lined up on the edge of the house at the bottom of the stairs. One deputy has a battering ram.”

  Brian said, “Steady everyone, let them get to the front door and get one swing with the battering ram.”

  The group of makeshift SWAT members made their way up on the porch and got to the front door in an ungraceful maneuver. They were not a cohesive unit like most SWAT teams who had trained and practiced together for thousands of hours. They ran into the back of each other, and no one was watching the rear. One of the guardsmen noticed the spikes but didn’t give them a second thought. Each one was eager to get in the house and claim their spoils. None of them heard the gas misters turn on.

  Craig radioed, “They’re at the front door now.”

  Sean turned on the pump.

  The lead deputy swung the battering ram at the door. It didn’t budge. The three men behind him bunched up on each other as they tried to get into the house, all expecting the door to give way on the first hit. They all smelled the strong odor of gasoline, but they were focused on their goal.

  Sean hit the igniter and cut the weight attached to the end of the cable. The cable snapped tight from the sudden weight.

  All four men on the porch were engulfed in flames. Their eyes burned, and as each one inhaled deep breaths their lungs started burning from the intense heat. The deputy holding the battering ram dropped it to his side and threw his shoulder into the door, his mind forcing his body to seek safety. Still, the door didn’t budge. None of the other three men behind him could do much better since they couldn’t see or breathe, and survival mode forced them to turn and run off the side of the porch.

  The first guardsman knew he was close to the edge of the porch; he took one step and jumped. Had the toe of his boot not caught the trip wire he would have cleared all the spikes. Instead, he dropped short and a spike pierced his shin bone. He let out a blood-curdling shriek of pain which the next two coming off the porch did not hear. They had both tripped and were on their way down into the flowerbed. The first deputy felt himself falling and put his arms out to stop himself; he was pierced up through the right hand and then into his forearm. As his body continued down, he caught a spike in each thigh. The spike that hit his left leg tore his femoral artery, and he had bled out in less than thirty seconds as his adrenaline-fueled heart pushed the blood out at an astonishing rate.

  The second guardsman was lucky. He blocked his fall with his arms, narrowly missing spikes, and his knees hit the ground without contacting a spike. His momentum carried his body to the ground and onto a spike in the center of his chest. The plate in his body armor prevented the spike from puncturing him, but the weight of his fall threw him onto his side where a spike was waiting and entered his head right behind his jawbone. He was dead instantly.

  After an unsuccessful attempt to open the door, the remaining deputy turned and tripped over the battering ram he had dropped. He hit the floor of the porch and crawled over to the edge. His mind did not register the trip wire as he fumbled over it. His face had been burned, and he continued over the edge. A spike entered his right eye and into his brain, killing him instantly. His body remained in a grotesque pose with his head bent back at an awkward angle and his legs pointing straight up in
the air still on the edge of the porch.

  As this all happened in the blink of an eye, a shot rang out, and the gunner in the first HUMVEE slumped down in the harness that was holding him in the turret. The fifty cal was pulled down, and the barrel was pointing at an upward angle. As his grip slid off the handle a few shots were let loose.

  Sheriff Gill, the remaining deputy, and the sergeant in charge were left stunned at the brutality of what they just witnessed. The screams of the remaining man left spiked at the porch and then the sudden burst from the fifty cal caused them to panic. Neither knowing who or where they were being attacked from, they raised their weapons and started firing blindly into the house.

  The men standing at the gate witnessed the fireball and could hear the screaming. Seeing the fifty up the hill aiming and then firing at the second floor of the house and then hearing the rest of their comrades firing into the house, they all started firing at the open windows of the second floor. The remaining fifty cal gunner was letting loose and the damage it was causing to the house was awe-inspiring. The gunner noticed movement from the second story of the workshop and realized he was being aimed at.

  “Contact right!” he screamed and swung the barrel still firing across the workshop. The line the impacting rounds made across the building was unmistakable against the dark weathered wood siding.

  When the group at the gate started firing at the house, Craig reached for the claymore clacker and frantically squeezed it; nothing happened. He dropped down and spoke into the radio, “The mortars aren’t firing!”

  Brian thought, Shit, I tested it with 200 yards of wire and it worked. I must have used more cable than that running through the culvert and making sure the line was not tight.

  “Forget them,” he said, “not enough voltage.” The fifty cal at the gate started barking. He screamed, “David, give us some distractions!”

  Brian popped up and saw the National Guard sergeant a few yards in front of him firing into the house. Brian unloaded the shotgun into his back. It took all four sabot slugs loaded in the gun to find the sweet spot in the lower back that was not protected by body armor to drop him. Brian saw something arc through the air and realized the first of the fireworks were coming over. He dropped back down into the spider hole and closed the hatch. He only had one slug left and the rest were buckshot, so he reloaded the shotgun with the buckshot, saving the slug.

  As the fifty cal gunner strafed the workshop, Daniel was hit in the lower right abdomen and then again in the upper left chest. He slumped to the floor right where he stood.

  Watching from the LP/OP Brandon screamed “Grandpa!” and started clawing his way out of the hole to rush to his grandfather’s aid. Craig grabbed his leg before he completely made it out of the hole and dragged him back into safety. The fifty cal gunner saw Brandon’s form emerge from the leaves in the woods and turned to start firing on their position. Craig dragged Brandon down in the nick of time before the fifty caliber rounds started tearing into the roof and the dirt above them, raining dirt and debris down into the hole on top of them. Craig wrapped Brandon in his arms, attempting to shield him with his body.

  The fifty cal gunner was relentless and firing without a care, his lack of training being overridden by the fear of seeing his position was surrounded.

  Craig keyed the radio to call for help; the only thing the rest of the group heard was screaming. Afterward, Craig would be unable to tell them if it was him or Brandon screaming, probably both.

  Upon hearing the screaming over the radio, Brian rose up and saw the feet of a deputy under the HUMVEE and on the other side of the truck. He fired at the feet on the other side of the vehicle and hit them. He ran out of ammo in the shotgun, and as he was reloading he caught a glimpse of another firework arc over the workshop. He dropped down and let the hatch fall shut, but not before the firework rolled into the spider hole with him. The only thing he could do in that split second was clench his eyes shut, tuck his head under his arms, and try to cover his ears. The firework exploded with a ferociousness.

  Every piece of exposed flesh on Brian was burning from the sparks. The smoke and dirt that was flung up from the explosion were choking him, and his lungs were screaming for oxygen. The ringing in his ears wiped everything from his mind. The loud noise, combined with the burning pain and inability to breathe, made Brian temporarily forget where he was. He flung his arms about and pushed the hatch all the way open, laying there in the daylight gulping for air and staring at the sky.

  The ringing in his ears was all encompassing, and he could no longer hear the following fireworks going off or any of the shooting. He sat up and was looking at the woods, still confused where he was or what was going on. He slowly turned and looked over his right shoulder and saw the HUMVEE along with the bodies up at the porch and everything flooded back to him. He was in a fog of war. Things were going on around him but he couldn’t hear them. Everything was happening in slow motion.

  Brian crouched down onto his belly trying to figure out exactly what was going on. More fireworks came flying over, and he closed his eyes and tucked his face down as they went off. He could feel the sparks hit his skin, but without being able to hear the explosions they were not bad and he didn’t recoil from them. Brian felt around and found the earbud to the radio. Sticking it back in his ear he screamed into the mic, “What is going on, what is everyone’s status?”

  He couldn’t hear their replies. He scanned the scene in front of him and saw the legs he had shot at. They were not moving.

  Craig was still being suppressed in the LP/OP by fifty caliber fire. His mind racing, he grabbed his spotlight and fumbled with the battery compartment door. Finally, the battery compartment opened, and the six-volt battery fell out, hanging by its wire connections. Craig picked up the ineffective clacker and ripped the wires off of it. He frantically touched the two wires to the leads of the battery and the sound of an explosion brought silence to the area.

  The remaining forces down at the gate were continuing to fire on the house and the workshop. When the fifty cal started shooting into the hillside, some turned and fired with it, assuming they were being flanked. They started to maneuver around the vehicles to find cover from this new threat on their right side as well as from the house and workshop. The two mortars exploded, sending hundreds of pieces of shrapnel tearing through their bodies. Everybody at the gate was dead in their tracks except for the fifty cal gunner who was protected by the armor shroud around the turret. Seeing everyone around him drop to the ground dead, he was left with only one option. He started shooting wildly from the hillside to the workshop and back again.

  Brian was still unable to hear and did not hear the mortars go off. From his position, he was unable to see the gate and assess the situation down there. He began to rise out of the hole with the shotgun at the ready, scanning 180 degrees to see what was happening. He looked to his left and saw Sean charging down the hill armed only with a pistol, firing at something. It was an odd thing to see. Sean looked like the T-1000 from the Terminator movies running down the hallway in the mental hospital firing his weapon at the elevator door, except it was all silent.

  Brian cleared the hole and took off to follow Sean. When he crested the hill, Sean was already at the HUMVEE. He leaped onto the bumper and then hood until he was next to the gunner, and emptied his magazine into the gunner’s turret. The fifty cal stopped firing. Sean reached in and began punching the dead gunner in the head screaming, “That’s for shooting at my boy, you son of a bitch!”

  Chapter 20

  Sean stopped punching the dead gunner and scanned for threats from those on the ground around him. When he didn’t see any, he screamed, “Brandon, are you okay? Brandon!”

  Brian reached Sean around that time, and since he still couldn’t hear, said louder than he should have, “What the hell is going on?” He surveyed the scene, making sure everyone was dead.

  Confused by why Brian was screaming at him for some reason, asking what the h
ell was going on, Sean screamed back, “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you okay?”

  Brian saw Sean speaking, but couldn’t hear him. “What?”

  Brandon emerged from the LP/OP and screamed, “Dad!” He pointed at the workshop and yelled “Grandpa! They got Grandpa!”

  Sean’s heart jumped. He looked at the workshop and saw the line of bullet holes stitched across the exterior of the workshop and took off running back up the hill.

  Brian saw Brandon but couldn’t hear him and then saw him point up the hill. He spun around and raised his shotgun, thinking that Brandon was pointing out a threat behind them. Seeing Sean take off running towards the shop, Brian noticed all the bullet holes as well.

  Oh shit, Daniel!

  He took off after Sean and began yelling into the radio, “Doc, we need you ASAP at the workshop if you can read me!”

  Brenda heard Brian over the radio asking for Doc to come to the workshop, realized it was her grandfather that was stationed in there, and started screaming. She came tearing out of the house and running to the shop. Brian had reached the bottom of the stairs when a hysterical Brenda came running in. Brian grabbed her before she could go up the stairs. She started trying to get past him, screaming for Brian to let her go. Brian held on tighter and pulled her head into his chest as she continued to cry.

  Sean appeared at the top of the stairs with tears in his eyes. He looked at Brian and shook his head, then came down to comfort Brenda. Doc came around the corner with his trauma bag in his hands.

  When Sean saw him he said, “It’s too late, Doc.”

  Brenda cried harder upon hearing this. Doc pushed past them and ran up the stairs. When Brandon entered the shop and saw his sister and father holding each other at the bottom of the steps, he knew his grandfather was dead. He ran up and threw his arms around them, crying with them.