by E. E. Borton
Kill zone assignments were based on the skill of the shooter. JD and Tucker were always assigned the farthest zone. I was one up from them. The less experienced and less accurate shooters were assigned the closer targets. The difference in this battle was the number of targets and their weapons. We had never faced a group this large with automatic rifles and several skilled soldiers behind them.
Our ace in the hole was the .50 cal machine gun. Gunny placed it in the highest window in a building at the edge of the dam. We knew it would draw the most fire, so we used steel plates to reinforce the walls around the window. A narrow opening would allow the operator to reach any target on the dam while giving him a decent amount of protection. If a lucky shot did get through, there were four other men in the room who could take over. Doug and Daniel were two of the men in that room.
We had less than half the number of men than the militia. I drew my confidence from the amount of grit in ours. We would be fighting for the people we loved and the places we called home. The militia would be fighting for a maniac and the property he wanted.
The sun was creeping higher in the sky when we saw the first militia troops come around the bend. As we had hoped, there was no organization and they were bunched together. It looked more like a protest coming down the road than columns of well-prepared fighting men. When the first wave approached the entrance to the dam, we still couldn’t see the general, his security team, or Captain Braun.
Looking through our scopes, we could see a few of them looking through theirs. JD and Tucker did a good job of concealing our men. When the militia detected no danger, they lowered their rifles, slung them across their backs, and started to cross.
Along our lines, deep breaths with slow releases were the only sounds I could hear. The air was still and quiet. The sun was in our favor and lit up our targets as they made their way closer to the kill zones.
Gunny and his group were the closest to the dam. We all waited for him to take the first shot. I was no longer concerned with the location of General Castle. I fixated on number four in my assigned kill zone. The quiet air around us turned into chaos when the first shot cracked through the silence. The militia couldn’t have made it easier for us.
Most of them were on the narrow roadway on top of the dam, exactly where we wanted them. I estimated about eighty of the one hundred troops were already in our kill zones. Some walked side by side, but the majority were in single file. It was as if they were on a Sunday afternoon stroll through the park.
When Gunny fired, we sent the first volley into our targets. Most of our bullets found their marks as they walked in the open. Eighty dropped to sixty before any of them fired a shot.
It was a continuous wave of sound as all of our weapons fired simultaneously. I could see their confusion and sense their fear as they realized they had no place to hide. That fear turned into terror when the .50 cal opened up on them. The wave of sound became a deafening wall.
At half a mile away, the large bullet can still penetrate the engine block of a truck. At less than a hundred yards, the damage it inflicts to a human body is catastrophic. It didn’t matter where the round hit. It was taking large chunks of their bodies with it.
It was hard not to watch. Arms, legs, and heads were flying in every direction as Doug moved the barrel in small increments through his kill zone. The impact of the bullets created eruptions of vaporized concrete, blood, and bone.
Some of the militia froze in terror. Their fear was short-lived as they made themselves even easier targets. As Gunny predicted, some jumped over the side. Which side they jumped over determined their fate. If they jumped on the lakeside, they’d sink to the bottom from the weight of their gear. If they managed to shed their gear and make it back up to the surface, they became fish in a barrel. If they jumped riverside, they’d plummet sixty feet down onto jagged rocks. (The Kramer brothers had succeeded in turning the Tennessee River into a shallow creek an hour before the battle.)
Some ran toward Gunny and his group just to get away from the continuous fire of our heavy machine gun. The only difference it made was the size of the bullets ripping through their bodies. The end result was the same. Sixty became thirty.
My fear of the grenade launchers, SAW machine guns, and expert soldiers operating them never came to fruition. A few grenades were launched at the building housing our machine gun, but they fell short and exploded in the water. JD and Tucker would silence the shooters seconds after they fired.
Only one of the two SAWs was successfully deployed against us from the other side of the dam. Our men were aware of its power and were ready for it. When the militia bullets started slamming into the ground around us, our best long-range shooters concentrated their fire. When the first operator took a bullet to his face, another man took over the weapon. After he was taken out in the same fashion, they abandoned the gun and ran for cover. None of them found it. Thirty became twenty.
A few of their men managed to escape the carnage and disappeared into the woods on the far side. The poor souls who attempted to continue the fight were systematically cut down. The .50 cal fell silent. There was no more need for its devastating power.
The cascade of bullets coming down from the mountain became sporadic single shots from JD and Tucker. The cracking of gunfire was replaced with the moans and cries from the wounded. Those would be silenced as well. Twenty became six.
In a scene out of a war movie, the six men from the far side of the dam who surrendered walked toward us with hands high over their heads. I found it strange that they believed it was going to be that easy. That we would take them in as prisoners of war, give them food and shelter, and then send them to one of our camps.
Gunny and his group of eight stood with their weapons ready and waited for the militia troops to make their way to them. JD, Tucker, and I arrived beside Gunny at the same time the enemy did. They seemed to be in shock that their army was decimated in a matter of minutes.
“We surrender.”
“No shit,” said JD, earning a glare from Gunny.
“My name is Peter and –”
“I don’t care what your name is,” said Gunny, turning to face the man speaking. “Where’s the asshole in charge? General Castle. That’s the only name I care about.”
“I don’t know,” said Peter. “He usually stays in the rear with the horses and supply wagons. I’m guessing he’s halfway back to Chattanooga by now. He wasn’t expecting a fight like this. None of us were.”
“How many men are with him?” I asked.
“Fifteen, sixteen, something like that.”
“More than that now,” said Gunny. “A handful were able to escape into the woods.”
He turned to me and said, “I know what you’re thinking, son, but get it out of your head.”
“He’ll be back, Gunny,” I said. “We both know that. He’ll bring everything he has with him. A man like Castle isn’t going to take an ass kicking like this and just disappear. He’ll be back with two hundred men, and we won’t be able to stop them.”
“We’re not chasing them,” said Gunny. “I’m not risking lives to go on a manhunt for well-trained soldiers on horseback. My job is to protect our towns.”
“Then how about you do your job and go after him,” I said. “You’re killing our towns if you let him live.”
“Enough, Henry,” said Gunny, taking a step toward me. “I know you’re hurting, but nobody talks to me like that, son. Nobody.”
I turned my aggression and anger toward the prisoners. I stepped away from Gunny and closer to Peter. I drew my pistol and placed it between his eyes.
“The man I was with when we came into your camp yesterday,” I said, clenching my teeth, “the man General Castle killed. What did you do with him? Where is he now?”
“I-I don’t know,” said Peter, swallowing hard. “I swear to God, I don’t know. Please don’t kill me. I’ve got a family to look after.”
“That man was my family,” I said, pushing
the barrel harder against his head. “He was all the family I had left, and you killed him. Where is he? Last time I’m asking.”
“I-I know where he is,” said a voice next to Peter.
“Tell me,” I said, lowering my pistol and turning my attention to him.
“He’s in a dumpster behind the gas station. That’s where they told us to put him.”
I don’t remember raising my gun. I don’t remember pulling the trigger. But like all the others, I’ll never forget his face. Six became five.
“Jesus Christ, Henry!” said Gunny, pushing my arm down and taking my gun.
“They threw him away like a piece of garbage,” I said, staring at the remaining five. “Garbage, Gunny.”
“Then let’s go get him,” said Gunny, pausing after a deep breath. “Let’s bring him home.”
I wanted the remaining prisoners to jump me. I wanted them to fight. I didn’t care that there were five of them. I wished there were more to kill.
“Peter,” said Gunny, turning around to face him. “You’re in charge of your group now. After my men take what they need from your dead, I want you to drag the bodies to the other side of the dam and pile them up. That includes the men who went over the side. Go find some shovels and scoop up whatever’s left. When you finish that, burn them.”
“You want me to burn them?” asked Peter, raising his brow. “I can’t do that.”
“It’s that or you dig eighty graves. Either way, they’re your responsibility now. You came over this dam to take my town and do the same to us. You defy me again, and I’ll make sure you’re on top of that fucking pile.”
I didn’t notice the people moving around me. I stood motionless and stared down at the body of the young man I killed out of blind rage. If my emotions were gears, they’d be stripped. One second I wanted to kill them all with my bare hands. The next second a wave of regret crashed over me for losing control. It was physically exhausting.
I couldn’t stop looking at the hole I put in his head. I wondered if he had a wife or kids praying for his safe return. I wondered if he had a Kelly waiting for him.
I saw my face in his. I was ashamed for what I did. My uncle would be ashamed. I was becoming no better than the other monster out there.
Two prisoners reached down and grabbed his ankles. I told them to leave him there. I told them I’d take care of him.
“Hey,” said JD, coming up behind me and putting his hand on my shoulder. “You want me to find a couple shovels?”
“Yes.”
Chapter 23
Lessons Learned
I found a small clearing alongside the road near the dam. It had a nice view of the lake. In my continuing separation from reality, I found myself compelled to find a peaceful place to bury him. I wanted a place where his family could come visit.
Digging a grave takes a lot of time and energy, neither of which I had to spare. With every stab into the ground with the shovel, General Castle was getting farther away. He was getting closer to safety. My hands were raw and bleeding by the time I placed the young man inside.
JD had helped me carry the body up to the gravesite, but I didn’t want his help digging. Blisters, splinters, and a sore back was a small price to pay for taking a life out of nothing but anger. The police wouldn’t be called. There would be no investigation. There would be no punishment for what I did. I was the only person I had to answer to until I stood in judgment in front of a higher power.
Filling a grave is easier than digging one. It was a lesson I’d learned many, many times. I gathered stones into a pile to create a crude headstone. When I finished, I stood over him for a moment longer. I could still see his face through the rocks and the dirt. I could still see the open wound. It was when I realized that I didn’t even know his name. I’d felt remorse and sadness for many of the deaths since the power died. This one was different. This one made me different.
“You know this morning he came here to kill you and the rest of us,” said JD, walking up beside me. “He would’ve stepped over your lifeless body without a second thought. He and his boys would’ve marched into Bridgeport, taken your woman, and done whatever they wanted to her. They’d have done the same to all of ‘em. The way I see it, these were animals that needed to be put down. Simple as that.”
“He was unarmed and surrendering to us, JD,” I said. “That makes it not so simple.”
“You don’t have to have a weapon to be armed,” said JD. “He had it in his heart to murder, rape, and destroy. I got no problem with what you did. None of us do.”
“Seriously, are you some kind of hillbilly philosopher?” I asked, giving him a sideways smile. “You say the craziest shit, but it always makes sense to me.”
“What does that say about you?”
“Good point.”
“While you were over here fightin’ your demons and diggin’ holes, I talked to Tucker and the Kramer brothers,” said JD, returning the smile. “We all agree that we need to take out the general and the other psychos that are followin’ him. Talked to Gunny too. My hillbilly charm turned him around as well. He don’t like it, but he’s gonna turn us loose on him.”
“I didn’t say anything about you being charming,” I said, “but well done, buddy.”
“Whatever,” said JD. “But here’s the hitch, and you ain’t gonna like it. But me and the boys agree with Gunny on this one.”
“What’s the hitch?”
“You gotta take Perry home first,” said JD. “And not just back to Bridgeport. You take him all the way home to Stevenson, face your family, and we burry him proper. Then you spend a little time with Kelly and rest up.”
“I appreciate you looking out for my mental well-being, but we don’t have time for all of that. Castle will be back at his base in a few days. They’re on horseback. No, JD. We need to catch up with him on the road. We won’t have a chance if he makes it home.”
“Figured you’d say that,” said JD. “You’re right, they’re on horseback. But those horses are pulling wagons filled with supplies they ain’t gonna leave behind. They probably moved quick to the interstate, but they’re gonna slow down when they figure out we ain’t following ‘em. After that, they’ll be taking their time getting back home.
“They’ll need to rest those horses at night. He don’t have an army with him anymore. With only a handful of soldiers, they’ll be more cautious and moving slower. That should buy us enough time for us to get between him and his base. The last place they’re going to expect an ambush is in front of ‘em.”
“That doesn’t make sense, JD,” I said. “They’re already hours ahead of us. How are we going to catch up with them, pass them, and then set up an ambush before they make it home?”
“I didn’t say anything about catching up and passing them,” said JD, holding his smile. “I said we’re gonna get between them and their home.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not if we take the train.”
“What?”
“You heard me, smart guy,” said JD. “Come on. Let’s go talk to Gunny. It was his idea.”
JD must have sold his soul to the devil. I figured it was the only way he could have turned Gunny that far in the other direction. It was a short walk back to the dam, but I was having trouble understanding how we were going to pass them on a train that bellowed smoke, steam, and noise without Castle noticing. When we walked into one of the concrete buildings, Gunny and the Kramer brothers were hovering over a map.
“Through with your pity party?” asked Gunny, waving me to the table.
“Yes, sir,” I said, shaking my head.
“If you would’ve settled down and let me explain my thought process, you’d have known that I agree with you. In order to keep our towns safe for more than a few weeks, we have to cut the head off the snake. I’m not willing to send a large force after him, but I am willing to use the train to deliver a small one. Before we move on, I need to know where your head’s at, son. These boys
deserve to know as well before I can ask them to risk their lives again.”
Looking around the room, they were all looking back at me. JD, Tucker, Doug, and Daniel waited while I collected my thoughts. After my meltdown today, I wasn’t sure I’d follow me either.
“My head is where it needs to be,” I said, moving in closer to them. “I’m not going to make excuses for what I did. You were all there. I lost it. I let my emotions control my actions, and I killed that man in cold blood. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t make a difference. Killing the general will. My head is about doing the job and getting us all home safe. That, I can promise you.”
“Good enough for me,” said Doug.
“I get it,” said Daniel. “But we’re going to be out there on our own for God knows how long. We’re all we’ve got. Can I still trust you with my life? With all of our lives?”
“You can,” I said. “I’d give up mine before I give up yours.”
“Then that’s good enough for me too,” said Daniel.
“You know we’re in,” said JD. “We’re the only chance you got to make it back.”
“That’s true,” said Tucker.
“All right then,” said Gunny. “I need to work out the details, but I’ll give you the short version. The men you didn’t kill gave us good information about the route Castle will be taking back to Signal Mountain. They’ll be using Highway 27. The interstate would be faster, but nobody wants to go anywhere near Chattanooga. From what we understand and what they verified, it’s a living nightmare.”
“Holy shit,” I said, having my moment of clarity. “We’re going through Chattanooga.”
“Bingo,” said Gunny. “And you’ll be using the train to get there. It should put you half a day, if not more, ahead of Castle.”