by John Grit
~~~~
“I heard something,” Brian whispered.
Ben and Caroline stopped chewing. They were eating while Brian provided security.
Everyone searched the dark woods with their eyes, keeping all senses sharp, ready for trouble.
“Don’t shoot. It’s your father.” Nate came closer and materialized out of the dark. “I’m so tired, I can’t even sneak up on you guys.”
“Are you okay?” Brian asked.
“Not a scratch.” Nate sat on a log, bending backward, stretching his aching back muscles.
“We heard explosions,” Ben said.
“That was my bombs. They’re at least two dozen short of men compared to yesterday.” Nate opened a canteen and put it to his mouth. The dull rumble of an explosion from miles down the road got everyone’s attention. Nate stopped drinking. “That would be my last one.”
“Where in the hell did you get the bombs?” Brian asked.
Nate put his canteen down. “Made them. There’s no time to explain how. I destroyed a few of their trucks, too.” Nate looked up at them. They stood looking back in the dark. All he could see was their silhouette. “They’re going to catch up with us if you guys don’t get busy cutting trees.”
“We stopped to eat,” Brian said. “They did, that is. I was pulling security. I haven’t eaten yet.”
Nate got out a package of food. “Well, stop jabbering and eat. I’ll man the other end of the saw when you’re done.”
“What do you think they’re up to?” Ben asked. “They have to be reacting to your tactics.”
“They are sending killer teams farther down the road than before.” Nate poured water in a plastic package of powdered soup. “We have to put down a couple roadblocks pronto, and get some miles between us and them.”
The saw was leaning again a tree near Caroline. She reached over and grabbed it. “We have a big ponderosa pine picked out right over there.”
Brian said, “Let’s get started.”
“You haven’t eaten yet,” Ben said. “Wait a minute and I’ll go with her.” He gulped down his food.
“Be careful,” Nate said. “They might be closer than I think. Don’t just saunter out there like you’re on a Sunday stroll.”
“Right.” Ben headed for the road with Caroline following, his shotgun ready.
Nate took a quick drink to clear his throat. “Brian and I will be there in a few minutes.”
Brian leaned against a tree, eating spaghetti out of a plastic pouch. “Bombs? You’re full of surprises. Why didn’t you show me how to make bombs a long time ago?”
“No way.” Nate shook his head in the dark. “It’s a felony to even play with explosives without federal permits. That stuff is too dangerous for a boy your age, anyway. I would never have made bombs under normal circumstances.”
“Dangerous?” Brian asked. “What do you call what we’re doing? They could be here any time, and I can’t even see my rifle sights in this dark. At least you have the Aimpoint on your rifle.”
“I felt you were right when you said you are better off with a carbine you’re used to. Otherwise, I would have had you take one of the ARs.”
“If we get back, I want to practice with one of the full auto M4s.” Brian threw his empty food pouch down.
“No. You don’t need a full auto weapon. It takes a lot of training and practice to handle one properly.” Nate finished eating. He picked Brian’s litter up and put it under a rotten log along with his and the pouches left by Ben and Caroline.
“Why did you do that?” Brian watched. “They will know we’ve been here because of the roadblock.”
“Force of habit. It’s best not to leave any clues behind for the enemy. They can determine our number and the fact we have freeze-dried supplies. The less they know about us, the better.”
“You want them to think we’re going hungry?” Brian asked.
“I don’t want them knowing a damn thing about us. Just learning we have freeze-dried food may encourage them to raid our farm, looking for a big cache of food, instead of passing on by.”
“You think they’ll do that? I mean, go on by the farm.”
Nate walked toward the road. “I have no way of knowing. That’s the problem. If we knew for sure they would go on by, we could stop all this and wish them a fast trip out of this county.”
“Yeah,” Brian said as he followed his father.
“And those three gang bangers on Harleys didn’t go on by,” Nate added.
“Yeah,” Brian said. “We can’t chance it.”
“Brian, you know we can’t stop them, just slow them down.”
“Maybe the cavalry will come around the bend. If not, at least they will know how we feel about them trespassing on our land and stealing our stuff.”
They could hear the others sawing, as they approached.
“I’m afraid they may have revenge on their mind now,” Nate said. “If the cavalry doesn’t show up in time, our farm is gone. And we better not be there when they arrive.”
Brian stopped walking. “What are we going to do if we lose everything but Mel’s place?”
Ben and Caroline stopped sawing.
“We can still farm the land,” Ben said. “Nate made sure we put away those seeds and buried them in jars. So we can plant another crop.”
“I guess we can get by.” Brian sounded defeated. “It will not be fun pulling that old plow of Grandpa’s.”
“What plow?” Ben asked.
Nate answered. “I buried it just before we met, when Brian and I were planning on moving to Mel’s bunker, because we didn’t have enough people to guard the farm until you and your family came along. I put it in one of those large, heavy plastic contractor’s garbage bags before burying it, so I doubt it’s even rusted much.”
“Oh.” Ben pulled the saw away from the tree. “Stand back, Caroline. This thing’s about to fall.”
Groaning from splitting wood told them all Ben was right. The three-foot-wide pine fell two-thirds of the way across the road.
Nate used his binoculars to glass the road in both directions. He could see better in the dark with his binoculars because of their light gathering capacity. “Okay, stay low and close to the tree. It will hide our silhouette and provide cover on one side.”
Been led the way. Caroline followed, then Brian. They all bent over as they walked.
Nate caught movement down the road. It was in the opposite direction from where they were expecting trouble. “On your bellies!”
Everyone got down, their heads swiveling, searching for trouble.
A vehicle of some kind was coming from the direction of the farm with no headlights on. All they could see was a shape in the dark. The sound of an engine running roughly came to their ears and grew louder. Either the muffler was rusted out, or it had no muffler at all.
“Stay low and roll over the log.” Nate’s voice did not mask his worry.
They all were on the other side in less than a second.
“Crawl back this way,” Nate whispered.
The coughing, spitting, and rattling of the engine grew louder.
Everyone followed Nate as he crawled back to where they came from, keeping behind the tree trunk. When they got far enough into the woods, everyone stood.
Nate used his binoculars to scan the road in both directions. “I don’t see anyone else, just that one car.”
Ben let out a lung full of air. “Where the hell did they come from?”
“I doubt they’re with the others,” Brian said.
Nate lowered his binoculars. “I doubt that, too. I’m wondering how they got that car past the ditch I cut across the road and the mound of dirt beside it. There hasn’t been time enough since we were there for them to have filled that ditch in with shovels unless there’s a lot more than a car full of them.”
Caroline stood in the dark and said nothing.
Brian spoke. “I think we should get away from this tree we cut down. Move down
the road, closer to the farm. There probably are more of them. Who knows how many?”
“Yeah.” Nate spoke under his breath. “Enough men with shovels could undo our roadblocks. The fact they’re here is good reason to believe there are a lot more where they came from.” He was ready to do just what Brian suggested. “Keep spaced apart some, but don’t get separated from me. Stay as quiet as possible. If any shooting starts, hit the dirt. Listen for my commands and do what I say.”
They headed deeper into the woods. All were expecting trouble.
Chapter 17
Nate heard music and singing. He stood in the dark and could not believe his ears.
He had led the others in a wide arc to avoid the new arrivals. However, Nate had not walked far enough before heading back to the road. This gang was much larger than he thought. He realized it must include hundreds of vehicles. They were still too far from the road to see anything, but they could hear.
The others moved closer.
“Sounds like they’re having a party.” Brian sounded incredulous.
“Yeah. There’s a hell of a lot of them, too,” Ben said. “They sound drunk.”
Caroline breathed fast and loud. “We should go back to the bunker. There are too many of them.”
Nate pulled his compass out of the top of his shirt where it hung from a string around his neck. “You guys, sit tight and stay alert. I want to learn more about this bunch of music lovers before we start moving again. We have to cross the road to get home, and I want to know what we’re up against. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”
The glow of many fires lit the scene that Nate watched from the edge of woods. He bent over low and crept down an overgrown ditch that paralleled the dirt road to get a better look. Two dozen people were gathered around a big truck; each had a bottle or can in their hand. I don’t believe it. Nate shook his head. It was a beer delivery truck, its company logo only half-legible under a thick layer of grime.
Everyone enjoyed a warm beer in the hot night. Others were boiling a big pot of corn on the cob right in the middle of the road. Both men and women, even a few children, were lined up, waiting for their turn to pile food on their plate. A boy about Brian’s age was staggering around, trying to dance to the music, with a bottle swinging in his hand. One pickup had a tailgate loaded with Mason jars filled with vegetables. Nate’s suspicion that their big meal was compliments of his farm was confirmed when he saw tools from the barn on one truck parked near a fire with its tailgate open, and three chickens on a long spit, over a smaller fire near the pot of corn. A teenage girl rotated it slowly.
Nate trained his binoculars farther down the road and saw the form of a cow in the back of a two-ton truck. Farther back but still in the light of the fires, there was the long trailer he'd taken off the men who had captured and tortured Caroline and Carrie. All the barrels of diesel fuel were on it.
Shit!
His blood surged when he thought of those who depended on that farm, depended on him. No fresh milk for Tommy and Synthia. No eggs for breakfast. All the food they had canned and stored away gone. An entire summer’s work, an entire growing season lost. Many of their farming tools gone. More than likely the home stripped and burned to the ground.
He had tried so hard to take care of his little group. He was Brian’s father. He had failed him. Failed them all. Not since his wife and daughter died had he felt so low.
Then… there had been nothing to hate. He couldn't hate a disease.
He looked through his binoculars again. There were no small children—at least, none he could see—but there were children from eleven or so up. His urge to shoot into the crowd and kill as many as he could cooled.
Nate backed away, wondering how he was going to tell the others.
~~~~
“I feel like killing somebody,” Ben said. “All that work—and we’re still going to go hungry anyway.”
Caroline held the carbine Nate gave her tighter. “What do you expect? The world is full of assholes. They’re called men.”
“Jeez.” Brian shook his head and said, “My father is a man. What has he done to you?”
“There are a few exceptions.” Caroline turned away and looked into the dark woods.
Brian shook his head again.
“Well, there’s no point in risking ourselves now. There is nothing to fight for.” Nate headed north so they could get past the mob on the road and cross over.
Nothing was said for more than an hour.
When they were at the road again, Nate scanned both directions with his binoculars. He tried to penetrate the dark and seek out any danger. He saw no sign of people. What he did see was a dip in the road. He backed away, deeper into the woods, and headed down the road toward the low spot.
Nate left the others in the woods and took another look. He realized the low place would hide them only at longer distance. Anyone within one hundred yards could see them, even if they kept bent over as they crossed. He did not think anyone was within miles of them, but it made him nervous.
A hill, just seventy-five yards north, made it impossible to see if there was danger farther down the road. Nate went back to the others. “Stay here while I check the other side of that hill. Not likely to be anyone, but I’ll check anyway.”
“Okay,” Brian said.
The other two just nodded in the dark.
Nate glassed the dirt road from the crest of the hill. He didn’t see anything, so he backed down the slope and started for the woods. A sound he could not believe he was hearing froze him in his tracks. Just as he hit the dirt, a helicopter flew over low and fast. After waiting to see if more helicopters were coming and hearing none, he got up and ran into the woods.
Heavy machine gun fire erupted.
Nate ran, heading back to the others. Sporadic rifle fire came from down the road, to be drowned out by some more heavy machine gun fire.
Nate bulled through brush until he arrived out of breath.
“What the hell is going on?” Ben asked.
In the distance, they could hear the helicopter’s blades chopping the air as it turned and maneuvered for another strafing run.
The ground reverberated; a dull rumble rolled over them. Fuel tanks in vehicles and the drums of diesel fuel were exploding. Even at such a long distance, flashes of light, glaring orange and red, ruined their night vision. They stood, blinking.
Nate thought he could hear screaming, but wondered if he was imagining it. He had seen civilians, women and children, slaughtered from the air before.
“Looks like a lone military chopper is attacking the partiers.” Nate looked to the north, expecting more helicopters. “It appeared to be an old Huey. Damn things are antiques, but they still fly. With enough maintenance, you can keep aircraft going forever. Those Hueys are tough. Probably the more advanced aircraft have been grounded for lack of spare parts.”
“The Guard?” Brian searched the sky.
“Who cares, as long as they kill the bastards,” Caroline said.
Nate looked at her, seeing little in the dark and quietly said, “There are children in that group.”
She said nothing.
“If it’s the Guard, they must have orders to get really tough on the gangs of killers and looters. How do they even know who they’re killing?” Brian looked at his father’s form in the dark.
“You’re right,” Nate said. “But they probably have been following their trail of destruction and death. So they are pretty certain they have a gang of brigands down there. Still, under normal circumstances, no chopper crew would be given the green light to attack civilians like that.” He did not speak for several seconds and then said, “The first sign of any government—and this is what we see. What a bad omen. Things must be pretty damn crazy out there.”
“Things haven’t been so sane where I’ve been either,” Caroline said.
“I know.” Nate was thinking. His voice was just heard by the others. He spoke louder. “We can’t cross h
ere. It’s too dangerous. They can see us down here with infrared. And they obviously are not careful about whom they kill.” He walked past them, heading deeper into the woods. “Stay on my six and stay quiet.” He turned to look back. “Brian, get up here behind me and stay with me unless I tell you otherwise.”
Brian quickened his pace and moved up the line. “Back to the bunker, huh?”
“Yes,” Nate said.
Ben pushed a scrub oak limb out of his way and held it for Caroline. “We sure have had a turn of bad luck lately.”
“It can get a lot worse,” Caroline said. She walked by in her strange, limping way, not looking at him. Her injuries were showing more and more as she put ever more miles under her feet. She did not complain or ask to rest. She would never complain about pain again.
For the next two hours, all four were quiet. Nate turned to the road, keeping a slow pace to avoid walking into an ambush. He did not have to turn much. The road swung around more to the east there and came across their path. Time was getting short. Nate wanted to be across the road before sunrise.
After leaving them behind in the woods, Nate glassed the road. Just a hint of graying of the night told him they needed to get across soon, but there was still time. He recognized the stretch of road he was looking at. A deep washout cut into over half the width of the road. It was not much farther.
It took a few minutes for Nate to make it back to the others and instructed, “We need to go a little more east.” He did not stop, just kept walking by them.
“What’s wrong with here?” Brian asked.
“There’s a gully just a little farther,” Nate said. “We’ll cross there.”
No one said anything else.
Once again, Nate left them in the woods and approached the road just close enough to glass both directions. He saw no sign of danger, so he went back to get the others.
“I’ll go first. Once I’m across, all of you run at the same time, spaced ten yards apart. Keep low so you won’t be above the gully. When you get to where the gully gets shallow and ends, run like hell, keeping low.”