The Collapse Trilogy (Book 3): Through the Ruins

by Rod Carstens

  Through the Ruins

  by

  Rod Carstens

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2017 by Roger C. Huder

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  Read other Rod Carstens books:

  Blood War Books

  Last of the Legion: Rift

  Marine Raiders: Strike Back

  The Conscripts

  No Mercy

  The Collapse Series

  Free Fire Zone

  Escape and Evade

  Stand Alone Books

  Dispatches from a Future War

  Salvaged

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Ambush!” the driver yelled. “Left side! Left side!”

  Vin Tanner was riding in the first gun truck in the convoy, a converted SUV. Through the gun slit they had cut in the old highway sign that covered the window and served as his protection, Tanner could see figures moving to their left in the trees. He was in the back seat and had designated himself as the gunner for the SUV. Tanner crawled over the sandbags that provided more protection and stood on the makeshift wooden platform for the gunner. He had one of only three automatic weapons left. It was his old .48, and he still had several magazines of the mini-explosive rounds he’d carried when he was with the Resource Control teams that policed the dangerous zones around the City-State of New York. Tanner glanced back to make sure the convoy was still intact. The second gun truck, an old four-door pickup, was right behind him, followed by the three converted buses. He could see the last two gun trucks, one a pickup and one an SUV, at the rear of the convoy weaving in and out behind the buses. Cat was in the gunner’s hatch on the roof in the back seat of the SUV with her .48 at her shoulder.

  The ambush was spread along the left side of the interstate. It was a good site. The left side had a dense cover of trees and brush that provided plenty of places for the ambushers to hide. This section of the interstate also had trees growing in cracks in the concrete. They created a maze, and the drivers had to zigzag the gun trucks through, slowing them down and making them easier targets for the ambushers. Large rocks added to this obstacle course from an apparent rockfall. Tanner was worried that the convoy would lose its spacing and allow vehicles to be singled out and attacked. The fire from the trees was not that heavy, but it didn’t need to be as they slowed to move through the area. The ambushers were concentrating on the gun trucks and all were taking hits. He glanced back again.

  The rest of the vehicles in the convoy were keeping their intervals in spite of the fire they were taking. He saw the pickup’s and first bus’s left turn signals were on. With no radios, they had come up with using the turn signals as a way to communicate while they were moving. A left turn signal in an ambush meant the fire was coming from that side of the highway.

  The ambushers continued to concentrate on the drivers. Tanner saw several rounds strike the pickup’s driver’s-side armor, throwing sparks. Armor was not the right word— all of the vehicles had increased protection for the occupants but it was just from old highway signs and other scrap metal attached to the vehicles. In the case of the second pickup, there were three stop signs bolted to the door. They had added extra metal around each of the driver’s-side doors and put sandbags on the inside. Protecting the drivers was vital. If a driver was killed or wounded, the vehicle could veer out of control and the convoy would be broken, allowing the ambushers to close in for the kill. The best protection they had against an ambush was to stay in formation and keep moving through the kill zone as fast as they could. They didn’t have the firepower to blast their way through. They just had to keep moving and returning fire.

  Tanner had drilled into them that to fire blindly was a waste of ammunition they could not afford. He called it spraying and praying. Instead he’d taught them to find a target and return accurate fire. That was exactly what the gunners on the trucks and buses were doing as they moved through the kill zone. For a bunch of settlers with no military training, they were doing a damn good job. Now that he knew the convoy was still intact, returning fire, and moving well through the kill zone, it was time he did the same.

  It was late in the afternoon and the sun was low on the horizon. The interstate curved to the north in this section, putting the sun at the backs of the ambushers. They had chosen their site and time of day well. He looked for targets, squinting into the glare of the sun as it came and went between the trees.

  The convoy was moving through a section of the interstate now where the trees and brush had partially blocked the left lane. As the convoy slowed for the obstacles, this allowed the ambushers to fire then move for another shot before the convoy had traveled out of range. Tanner saw a figure to his left running through the growth paralleling the convoy. He caught glimpses of a rifle in his hand as the ambusher made his way through the trees. He was trying to get far enough ahead for another shot. Tanner led the figure by a few feet and fired a short three-round burst. One round exploded against a tree behind the running man, sending it crashing backward. The next exploded in the brush beyond the figure, but his final round caught him, and threw him up into the bushes in a red mist.

  Peter, the driver of Tanner’s SUV, was doing a good job of weaving his way through the trees, debris, and abandoned cars that littered the highway while keeping his speed up. Tanner glanced back at the other trucks. Cat was still standing in the gunner’s hole firing. They were making good progress getting through the kill zone. None of the vehicles had slowed or lost their intervals. Then his SUV began to slow down and brake.

  “What is it?” Vin yelled and turned to look ahead.

  Across the road lay several large tree and behind it, he could see several figures who had begun to fire at the convoy. The ambush was simply part of a bigger roadblock, and it looked well organized. This was going to challenge all the training and drills he had put his fighters through.

  “Put the flashers on!”

  Peter put the warning flashers on and off several times. The rest of the vehicles did the same, signaling they were going to have to stop. Tanner could see more figures running through the trees to his left, racing for the roadblock. This was the most organized group they had run into yet. This would not be easy. He turned and pointed to the roadblock, then pumped his arm. Cat saw the signal and nodded.

  They were going to have to dismount and attack the roadblock while the buses and rear gun trucks provided cover. Tanner and the others had practiced this maneuver a number of times, but it would be the first time they used it under fire. He began to fire into the roadblock, his rounds exploding among the trees. Cat was doing the same. The explosive rounds were having an effect—the fire was lessening from the roadblock. Tanner was careful with how much he fired. They did not have a large supply of explosive rounds. Each one had to count.

  When they were less than a hundred feet from the trees across the road, Peter jerked the SUV to the right and came to a stop. The pickup skidded to a stop facing left, just behind the SUV. A man raised up above the roadblock to fire a rifle at Tanner. Vin caught him with an explosive round in the chest before he could fire. The man simply disappeared into a bloody mist of blood and tissue.

  Blondie, who was riding shotgun in the front of Tanner’s vehicle, bailed out of the SUV and dropped to one knee, firing her old M16 from behind the cover of the open door. Matos had been riding shotgun in the pickup. He came running up beside Blondie and began firing his .48, adding more explosive rounds to t
he return fire. Mike and Matos came sprinting down the convoy from the rear gun trucks. Cat jumped down from her perch on the second gun truck to join them as they headed for Vin’s SUV. Now they had enough guns to put concentrated fire on the roadblock.

  Cat came up to the SUV to take Vin’s place. Vin jumped down and joined the other four as Cat replaced him. They couldn’t rush the roadblock head on. They were going to have to flank it. Vin studied both sides of the interstate; he knew there were ambushers on the left of the highway with more coming up from the rear. So it had to be right.

  “Follow me,” Vin said, and he led the four fighters into the brush on the right side of the road. Rounds kicked up pieces of concrete and they raced for the tree line. They made it and began to move forward through the trees and brush.

  It was dark and cool in the shade of the trees as they moved through the forest. Rounds cracked around them as the men and women manning the roadblock tried to stop them. Tanner and the others moved under the cover of trees and rocks as they tried to flank the roadblock. You beat an ambush on the ground by flanking it, and as they closed in on the roadblock Tanner began to catch glimpses of the figures manning it.

  They appeared to be a gang, with the usual assortment of civilian and military weapons. They all wore their gang’s colors—in this case dark blue—and had shaved heads, and some had paint on their faces. The fire from the convoy was keeping their heads down, but the movement from the flank had gotten their attention, and some were turning toward Tanner and the others.

  Tanner had just raised his rifle to fire when someone suddenly appeared from behind a tree and tackled him. These guys had their flanks covered with fighters but they must have been short of firearms because otherwise they would have been boxed in a three sided ambush. More figures appeared, and soon Tanner and the rest were fighting for their lives. Tanner’s rifle went flying when he was tackled, so he reached for the his tomahawk on his belt.

  The man on top of Tanner knew something about fighting, because he was trying to mount him. Tanner got his knees into his chest and kicked the man off of him; he landed on his back several feet from Tanner.

  Vin jumped to his feet and drove the tomahawk down at the man on the ground, but he rolled away. A round from the roadblock cracked by Tanner’s head, making him duck and giving the man a chance to get back on his feet. He was young and big and quick. In one movement he drew a large knife out of his belt and swung it wildly.

  He almost caught Vin with the swipe of the knife, but Vin was able to dance to the side. The man had made a mistake; his swing was uncontrolled, so his arm swing twisted all the way across his body. This gave Tanner a chance to move in before he could pull his arm back into position. Vin hacked downward with his tomahawk and cut the man’s forearm off at the elbow. He screamed and grabbed his stump of an arm. Vin pulled his pistol and fired one shot into the man’s forehead. He dropped to the ground.

  When Tanner looked around, all the others were standing over the bodies of gang members, breathing hard. Tanner holstered his pistol, grabbed his rifle, and took up a position behind a tree. He was in perfect position behind to pour flanking fire into the roadblock. The ambushers had nowhere to go. The others joined Vin and began to fire into the rear of the roadblock. Some men tried to run while others took cover in the roadblock. They attempted to return fire but between the flanking group and the fire from the convoy, it was too much, and figure after figure went down. With the loss of so many members, the last of those manning the roadblock broke and ran.

  Tanner knew it was not over, and they needed to follow up while they had the advantage. He yelled, “Friendlies coming out!”

  “Come on out!” Cat replied from the SUV.

  The others followed Tanner and darted forward, rifles up and ready. Two of Tanner’s team would move forward with the others covering them as they cleared a part of the position, and then the covering group would move to the next section. They had just cleared the roadblock when someone fired from the trees across the interstate. He missed, but Tanner and the rest returned fire at the unseen shooter. After that, there was no more fire from the ambushers. Vin led the others as they carefully moved through the position and checked each body to make sure they were dead.

  “I got a live one!” Blondie yelled, standing over another man, her shotgun aimed at his head. They must have been doing pretty good ambushing people on the interstate because he was well fed and muscular. Tanner walked up to him and looked down. He had a chest wound, and he wouldn’t last long. The blood pouring from his chest bubbled each time he took a breath.

  “Who are you guys?” he gasped.

  “Just some people trying to move on down the road,” Tanner said.

  “Nobody ever fought the way you did. We’ve always won…”

  “Not this time, man,” Blondie said.

  The man coughed up blood then died, his half-open eyes staring up at the sky. This is what we’ve come to, Tanner thought. Strangers fighting one another to the death over what? Some supplies and vehicles.

  “Gather up their weapons and get a working party up here to remove this roadblock. The rest of you set up a perimeter. I don’t want any of these guys’ friends to think they should come back for a second try. And get these bodies out of the road. Make sure you scavenge their weapons and ammo.”

  The other fighters spread out, forming a protective perimeter while men and women from the buses ran up to help clear the roadblock. Tanner walked down the middle of the highway alone. This was the most well-planned ambush they had encountered. He stared off down the interstate and wondered what other surprises waited for them.

  CHAPTER TWO

  With Tanner’s direction, they cleared the roadblock and disposed of the bodies. He did not want to give that gang long enough to get a second wind and try again, so he pushed everyone to finish the cleanup and get moving again. They were able to add a few rifles and pistols to their arms cache from the gang. It was getting late, and they needed to find a place to stop and get organized for the night.

  They were able to move for a couple of hours with no problems. The road was clear, and the weather was good. He had not seen a good harbor site yet and hoped he could find one soon. They called their stopping places harbor sites, just like in the teams. Each was carefully chosen for the safety of the convoy and its occupants. You didn’t want to stop where the thick forest lined both sides of the interstate; you needed defensible space and enough room for the vehicles to form the defensive perimeter. Vin stood in the gunner’s position in the first SUV, enjoying the peace of the moment. It rarely lasted very long.

  He glanced back at the convoy. All the vehicles were moving well and were keeping their intervals. Then the first bus turned on its warning lights. That meant a problem, or they had a mechanical issue with the bus. The bus didn’t seem to be losing any speed, so someone must be hurt.

  Tanner leaned down and shouted at Peter, “The second bus’s flashers are on! We’re going to need to stop as soon as we can.”

  “Check. I got a bridge up ahead. I think that will do.”

  Tanner turned forward and saw a long bridge that spanned a river was not far ahead. Bridges were always a good place to stop because there was nothing on either side except open space with no area for attackers to hide, and they gave the convoy an easily defended space. Vin turned toward Cat in the second SUV and crossed his arms in an X, signaling they were going to stop. Peter wove through two trees in the middle of the road and crossed over onto the bridge. It was a four-lane part of the interstate with pullover lanes on both sides, an ideal stopping point. Just like in the ambush drill, Peter pulled over to the right and the second swerved to the left. The buses and other gun trucks did the same.

  The first bus was their rolling command post. Dr. Rule, Morgan, the laptop, maps, and all of the other equipment they were using to coordinate this trip were housed in the bus. There were also men and women who helped with operations and acted as shooters during ambushes.
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  The second bus carried most of the families and children. It had been converted into a mobile kitchen that was used to feed the community at night. It was the heart of the community, with the families and children in the safest part of the convoy. When they had decided to move the settlement, it had taken months of hard work to prepare the buses. They had to be able to carry everything that would be needed to settle elsewhere. The roofs of the first and third buses were covered with vegetable plants for instance. The middle bus carried dried meat and vegetables as well as their only livestock: guinea pigs and rabbits. Water was stored in barrels on the backs of all the buses as well as on the roofs.

  The third bus carried most of the food, equipment, and tools, with more people stuffed in on top of and around it all. Nearly a hundred people were crammed into the three buses and the gun trucks. Their whole community was on the road. It was a dangerous and long trip to a place where they hoped to establish the new settlement. They had been ambushed three times since they had left. These attacks were slowing them down and taking a toll on their supplies. At this rate they might run out of food, water, and ammunition before reaching their destination.

  Tanner tried not to think that far ahead. Instead he took one day at a time, sometimes an hour at a time. Now he had to find out what was wrong on the first bus.

  The bridge they had stopped on crossed a river that cut a deep ravine into the hills on either side. Tanner could look out over a forest that seemed to reach the horizon. After decades of little or no use, the forests had reclaimed most signs of civilization. It was hard to believe that once this area had been covered with towns, roads, and factories. Once the city-states had begun to absorb all the resources for themselves, the states around them had slowly died. People still tried to scratch out an existence, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with climate change and the lack of modern tools. He could see a few telltale signs of small settlements or families, as the smoke from their cooking fires lifted out of the forest. Otherwise there was no sign of human life.