by Warren Ray
The wails and cries were endless and very few people voluntarily gave up their guns, which led to the disastrous Weapons Reclamation Program. The Government ordered local law enforcement authorities to confiscate all firearms. Not only were gun owners not complying, but many local Sheriff's departments across the country didn’t agree with the act and wouldn’t enforce the law. Those departments that did try to enforce the law found themselves getting into lethal conflicts and people were dying on both sides.
The Government learned some valuable lessons from this program. The foremost was; they couldn’t always count on local authorities to enforce their new laws. This lesson launched the nationalizing of all police departments across the country.
The second lesson was; they now realized just how passionate gun owners were and the third was; they would have to figure out another way to disarm the citizenry. For the time being, they decided to disregard the strict enforcement of the law. This did little to quell the protests but once the Chinese attacked the country, the issue dropped out of sight.
Nunn leaned back in his chair and took another sip. With Decker either missing or dead, Nunn decided to report to his superiors. He didn’t necessarily want to, but they’d eventually find out and he’d rather control the conversation instead of being on the defensive. He leaned forward in his chair, reached for the black phone on his desk, and punched the numbers.
“Director Reed’s office.”
“This is Colonel Nunn, is he in?”
“Hold on,” came the response.
Nunn waited for Lawrence Reed, his civilian contact to pick up the phone. Reed was a man who ranked high in the new government and was in charge of Operation Wildflower. He had been the one to put Colonel Nunn in charge of the Midwest; figuring they would need someone who had no choice but to follow orders. Reed, the ever-master politician, had been instrumental in collapsing the previous government. He, with his many influential friends in Washington, unabashedly did the dirty work for the new government.
“This is Reed.”
“Lawrence, Colonel Nunn here.”
“Colonel, how are things going in the Midwest?”
“Not a good day today. We’ve had an incident.” Colonel Nunn filled him in on the events.
“You think this Decker was among the victims?” asked Reed.
“I can’t say for sure.”
“Well, you need to find out. If he’s alive, we don’t need him running his mouth off to anyone,” said Reed.
“I don’t think we’ll need to worry much about that.”
“Oh, why not?”
“He lived in that quaint little town he worked out of, so I sent a message not to screw with us. I had my men burn down the houses along the main street.”
“Nice. How long before you can have the place up and running again?”
“Probably two or three weeks at a minimum.” He didn’t want to bring up the obvious subject. Word will spread around the area and this location would be a waste of time to reopen.
“Call me if you need anything.”
Reed hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair, and gazed out the window over the Potomac River. Washington was one of the few cities in America with no power shortages and no curfew, so the streets remained alive with people bustling about, tending to their business, and not letting the woes of the world get in the way.
He grabbed the phone to call his boss, to relay the news.
“Larry, it’s important this operation continues as planned. You think Nunn can keep things under wraps?”
“He's got a lot riding on it, so yes,” replied Reed.
“If he doesn't, we'll have to send someone else out there.”
“Let's see how things progress.”
Chapter 12
Victor Iowa
Major Green’s soldiers wrapped scraps of cloth around long pieces of wood and dipped them into a container of kerosene, One of the soldiers then lit the combustible rags.
“What the hell are they doing?” asked Meeks.
“They’re lighting torches,” said Scar.
The soldiers fanned out in different directions with the flaming torches.
Scar grabbed Meeks’ shoulder when a soldier approached the house. He heard faint footsteps as the soldier moved around setting the house on fire.
“What the hell they doing this for?” asked Meeks.
“Probably payback for us setting their precious train station on fire,” said Scar. “We’re stuck here till they leave.”
“Let's hope they don’t fancy watching fires for very long,” said Meeks with a sly grin.
They stood at the window to wait for the soldiers to leave. Some of them did hang around to watch the fires.
Meeks shook his head. “I reckon they’re enjoying their handiwork.”
A long moment passed before Scar responded. “Let’s get out of here before we can’t.”
The crackling fire relished the dry lumber of the old house. The living room was consumed in no time. The fire then danced its way into the kitchen. Flames shot up walls to the ceiling and started burning the second floor. Hot, black smoke rose up through the still open entrance to the attic cutting off the air supply.
Scar hopped over to the opening and dropped down the ladder. Meeks followed right behind him. The second floor was filled with so much smoke that it felt as though you were swimming in it. Scar got down on his knees to try to get under the choking smoke. Breathing became a painful exercise. What air they inhaled burned their lungs. Bright orange flames leaped up from the stairwell in front of them. The heat seared the skin on Scar's arm. Meeks pulled his shirt up over his mouth to try to filter the air. They turned around and headed toward a glimmer of sunlight. A beacon of light pierced through the haze of smoke and led them to the end of the hallway. Scar put his hand on a door to his right, turned the knob and opened it into a bedroom. They both rushed in and slammed the door shut. The room still had fresh air and they both greedily sucked it in. They coughed and gagged while trying to catch their breath.
“You okay?” asked Scar.
“Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t see that one coming, did we?”
“Nope,” coughed Scar. “Not on the top of my list.”
“You had a list?”
“Left it up in the attic, you want to see it.”
“No, I think I’m good.” Meeks looked down from the window. “Looks like a bit of a drop from up here.”
“I didn’t figure you to be afraid of heights.”
“I’m not. What I am afraid of is breaking my ankle.”
“Yeah, can’t say that’d be a good thing. Let’s tie these bed sheets together. I’m pretty sure the fire department isn’t coming to rescue us.”
The two ripped off the sheets and tied them together. Then moved the bed to the window and fastened the sheets to the bed frame. While doing this, the big engines of the army transports revved up and shook the walls as they pulled out of town.
Scar opened the window and instant relief came from the fresh air rushing in. The two stood at the window for a moment enjoying the breeze. The whole house creaked, as the old girl got ready to collapse in on herself.
Scar climbed out first and slid down the bed sheet rope, with Meeks heckling him to hurry up because his fanny was catching fire. This only encouraged Scar to take his time. Once on the ground, they ran away from Main Street to where they had parked their pickup. Scar started the engine and drove back toward the destruction. He stopped at the edge of the small town to watch the flames consume the houses.
“So, you convinced now?” asked Scar.
“Of what?” replied Meeks.
“Army being involved.”
“Yeah, I’m convinced, just can’t say I’m real happy about it.”
“Don’t know how it can get any worse.”
“Knock on wood, buddy,” said Meeks pounding on the dashboard.
“Wait till we tell the Captain about this.”
“I wonder
how they’re doing?” mused Meeks.
Chapter 13
Jackson County Minnesota
Winters sat in the passenger seat of the pickup admiring the passing scenery, as Elliott drove them to the drop-off location. He was reeling over the insulting way Nate had implied he wouldn’t have a problem having a gun pointed at him.
They finally reached the drop-off location. The place sat in a wide open valley with woods on the far side of the road. The building had once been used to sell farm implements and accessories. It had a big parking lot and still had a sign out front advertising John Deere. They stopped, got out and looked over the area. Seeing the woods gave Winters an idea where they could set up and hide. They all drove off the road and down into a field.
The Shadow Patriots tramped through the woods as the gentle breeze swept through the trees and whispered its song to the men. Within minutes, they were able to see the building and the several pickup trucks parked close to the entrance.
“Perfect place to be killing volunteers, out in the middle of nowhere,” said Elliott.
“Yes, it is,” agreed Winters.
“If they are, they’ve got to be taking the bodies somewhere close, we should try and find the burial site.”
“The ground is too open, if someone came outside, we’d be spotted in no time,” said Winters. “We could have someone climb one of the trees to get a better view.”
“Good idea,” said Elliott as he turned to his friends and asked one of them.
The Shadow Patriots watched one of their members, who at forty-two was their youngest, climb the tree carrying a set of binoculars around his neck. He negotiated the branches to low cheers and jeers from the guys. There wasn’t any sign of a burial pit, but he was not able to see behind the building.
Winters started to pace, trying to come up with a way to keep Nate and Rogers safe. Elliott walked over to him.
“I can’t sit around and wait for something to happen,” said Winters.
“Looks like a little of Nate is starting to rub off on ya,” said Elliott with a sly smile.
Winters half rolled his eyes. “Funny you should say that because I do have a crazy idea.”
“Going to be dangerous?”
Winters nodded.
Elliott hesitated for a moment. “Well, count me in. I can’t let Nate down.”
After telling Elliott his idea, he gathered everyone together and informed them.
“You’re going to walk on in there and ask them if you can volunteer?” asked one of the men. “You competing with Nate for the dumbest person award?”
Winters made a sour face. “No, I’m not. If these guys are doing the same thing, as in Iowa, then we’re too far away to help them.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
After giving out instructions, Winters and Elliott walked to the vehicles. They hopped into an F-150, with Elliott in the driver’s seat. After starting the engine, he backed up a little before shifting it into low drive.
The truck bounced up the incline, then headed back in the direction from which they had come. He drove for a few miles on the empty country highway, and then stopped at the top of a hill. This gave them a broad and deep panoramic view. Elliott turned off the engine. They sat silently while Elliott scanned the horizon with binoculars.
A crisp breeze blew through the open windows and Winters leaned his head back to catch a nap. This proved difficult with so much on his mind. Between what they were about to do, and the questions as to why this was going on, sleep would evade him.
At last, Elliott spoke up. “They’re coming.” He handed the binoculars to Winters. He spotted the three big green transport trucks, which carried Nate and Rogers, coming over the horizon. Elliott put the truck in gear and headed toward the drop-off location.
Winters glanced over at Elliott. “You ready for this?”
“You were right, this is damn crazy,” said Elliott.
Winters re-checked the Colt .45 he had absconded back at the train station. He had a full mag with one in the chamber.
As soon as Elliott pulled the truck into the parking lot, three guards rushed out with rifles at the ready. They spread out and waited for him to park.
“They don’t look too thrilled to see us,” said Elliott.
“No, they don’t. This might not have been such a good idea.”
Chapter 14
Elliott closed the door to the truck and waved at the approaching men. “Is this where you volunteer to go out West? My friend and I want to join the fight.”
“Yes and no,” said a short, stocky man as he lowered his weapon.
“Whatcha mean?” Elliott asked.
“Well, first you have to go sign up at the Patriot Center and then you get transported up here,” he responded.
Winters acted ignorant. “How far away?”
“Blue Earth, it’s about seventy miles.”
Winters shook his head. “We don’t have enough gas to go another seventy miles.”
“That just don’t make much sense. Can’t we just sign up here since we’re already here?” asked Elliott.
The short man ordered his friend to ask the boss for instructions.
Winters looked at him pleadingly. “Just doesn’t make any sense to go somewhere else and then have to come all the way back, when we’re already here.”
The short man shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not in charge.”
They all turned when the guard who went inside came out with the okay to go ahead and line them up with the others.
Winters glanced at Elliott with a troubled stare. He turned to the short man. “Well, isn’t there some paperwork you said we needed to fill out first?”
“We’ll get to that, don’t cha worry.”
“So, do we go inside for that?”
Everyone turned around at the same time and looked up the valley as the three transports came over the hill. Winters gave a nod to Elliott who asked one of the guards. “Is there a bathroom I can use?”
“Yeah, hang a right when you get inside.”
“What time do we leave? Will there be anything to eat?” Winters kept asking them questions trying to gauge their intentions. He only got short answers out of them.
The three transports drivers pulled in, parked and turned off their engines as three more men walked outside. With the drivers, nine potential bad guys were now outside waiting for the volunteers to disembark. The drivers instructed the passengers where to stand. The middle-aged volunteers including Nate and Rogers jumped out of the truck.
Nate gave Winters a slight nod and began to walk over to him. One of the drivers stopped him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need to use the bathroom,” Nate responded.
“You can use the field,” said the driver.
“I can’t do that man,” said Nate walking past the irritated driver.
Winters glanced toward the entrance looking for Elliott. He hadn’t come out yet, and Winters didn’t like the odds of him against six armed men plus the three drivers. One of the guards turned toward him. Winters stood at his pickup pretending to get something. He looked in the mirror to watch the approaching guard.
The other guards stopped Nate from coming any closer to the building. At that point, Winters knew they were getting ready to shoot the volunteers. He kept pretending to get something out of his truck as he waited for the approaching guard. He needed him to be closer before he could strike. He took a deep breath to control his nerves.
“Hey, let's go. You need to get with the others,” said the guard
Winters turned. “What about that paperwork I'm supposed to fill out?”
He watched the guard try to form a response to the question. Winters stared past him, at the other guards who were lining themselves up in front of the volunteers, and figured he only had seconds before they opened fire.
He couldn’t wait for Elliott.
Winters angled the blackened steel knife and plunged it
into the man’s stomach. He gritted his teeth as he pulled the knife out. Blood poured out and soaked his victim’s shirt. The guard’s eyes filled with abject terror trying to figure out what had just happened.
Winters felt the rage of Mister Hyde flow out of him when he shoved the knife into the man's stomach again. It released all his pent-up stress. Winters yanked the knife out as the guard fell to his knees. Winters moved to the side letting the man fall forward.
This attracted the attention of a volunteer who pointed at him and yelled out. Then all hell broke loose.
Everyone turned and saw the guard lying on the ground not moving. One of them raised his rifle, pointed and fired at Winters. A bullet whistled by his head and slammed into the side of the truck.
Winters let the knife fall out of his hand and reached for his Colt when a shot rang out dropping the man who had just fired at Winters. The shot had come from Nate who was already aiming at his next victim.
Gunfire erupted from both sides. Winters crouched down and fired several rounds hitting one of the guards. Everyone scattered in different directions. Some of the volunteers fell to the ground. Others dove for cover behind the trucks. The drivers began firing at them.
The Shadow Patriots came running from the woods and crossed the road shooting at the guards. They split off into smaller groups, each overpowering a target.
Nate ran straight at one of the guards firing his .45 as he chased the man down. Nate dropped him in mid-stride. He then resurveyed the scene, noticed one of the drivers going for the cab of a transport, and took off after him. Nate jumped up on the step and fired point-blank at the driver through the open window.
Another driver knelt underneath the last transport, taking cover while shooting at the unarmed volunteers. Winters still on the ground, fired his pistol at him until he emptied the magazine. None of his rounds hit their target. He grabbed another magazine from his pocket and reloaded. Winters willed himself to slow down and to take better aim. He let off three consecutive rounds, the last one finally hitting him in the throat.