by Paul A. Rice
Her answer shocked him. ‘Seventeen of them altogether’ she said. ‘Thirteen shot and another four, who, by the looks of things, were already dead when they arrived…’ Seeing the confused expression upon his face, she explained how some of the intruders seemed to have been put through a mincing machine or something. ‘They were totally messed-up, heads all popped and hands growing out of their faces, bones with no flesh – very messy and quite grotesque! Frank and Jack have come and taken them all away, they…’ Her sentence was curtailed by her husband’s horrified retort.
‘Frank and Jack…what about…I mean, now everyone is going to ask all sorts of awkward bloody questions! Why did you go and tell them about all of this, why?’ he asked in horror. Ken was stunned. This was going to be a major problem and he couldn’t believe they had been so stupid as to have gone and involved other people. He looked at Jane in despair.
She smiled, saying: ‘Don’t worry about it; I don’t think it’s that big a secret…everybody seems to know, anyway.’
Ken looked at her in total bewilderment.
Jane shrugged her shoulders and said, ‘Yes, well…that’s just another little thing that we weren’t aware of, isn’t it? This whole town, maybe the whole bloody dimension, is full of George’s people, all our neighbours: Jack, Frank, Mister Morton at the school, Izzy and her sons, all of them – they’re all like us. All of them have worked for George at some stage; well, that’s what Tori told me anyway!’ She raised he shoulders in confusion, saying: ‘I’m not sure exactly, my head was starting to overload by then, what with you being out like a light and Maggie missing and…’
Jane’s face twisted in anguish as she told him about how they had spent ages whilst they searched everywhere for Maggie. But the old woman was nowhere to be found and only one of her shoes remained in witness to her presence. Michael had discovered the shoe next to a large patch of gooey, black grass, but there was no other trace of the woman to be seen.
‘She’s simply vanished into thin air, we’ve looked everywhere and she’s definitely gone!’ Jane was almost in tears as she said, ‘What happens if she’s been turned into, into that…’ she shuddered, ‘…that mincemeat stuff, maybe the burnt grass is all that’s left of her, maybe she… they wouldn’t have done that to her, surely they wouldn’t have, would they?’
Ken had no idea as he hadn’t seen the horrible remains that his wife had described, and anyway, why would their enemy have gone to so much trouble just to convert Maggie into a pile of dog meat, why? It didn’t make sense. He pulled her towards the bed. Ken reached up, stroked her face and then transferred a kiss from his lips to hers, using the two forefingers of his un-blistered right hand to carry the soft message.
‘Ssshhh,’ he said, ‘it’s okay, Jane. It’s all okay. All part of the plan, you’ll see! Now, come here and give me a proper kiss!’ He grinned and pulled her towards him. Jane gladly did as she was asked.
Later, as they lay in bed, she asked if Ken had any idea what it all meant, would George really have allowed Maggie to have been kidnapped, if that’s what had actually happened? Ken thought about it for a while, from what he’d heard then it would have been doubtful if George would have known anyway, the black mist most likely taking care of all such things.
He sat up and said, ‘I don’t know, let’s get up and go and see what the others know, maybe Tori will have an idea, I’ll get hold of George on the Communicator and…oh, come on, let’s just get our arses into gear, shall we?’ Ken threw back the covers and headed for the shower.
The others were all glad to see him up and about, the thought of Ken not being with them, guiding them and watching over them, had never even crossed their minds. He had seemed almost invincible to them. His strange behaviour, the staring and singing, followed by a bout of unconsciousness, had scared them – it was a wake-up call and they listened to it.
It was as he’d said to them during the training: ‘If you plan for the worst, you’ll be ready!’ The reality of their situation was now fully upon them, and the absence of Maggie only served only to heighten their predicament. As they sat around the kitchen table, each recounting their previous day’s experiences, running over what they had seen and done, it became clear to Ken that they had indeed been lucky. If he and the men had been somewhere else, gone into town or disappeared to do a spot of trout fishing in the big river just the other side of that town, perhaps anything other than having been right next to their weapons, well…then the chances were that it wouldn’t only have been Maggie who no longer sat amongst them.
Waiting until their banter had died down a touch, Ken said, quietly: ‘Listen, I think we should make sure we’re armed at all times from now on, all of us. Everyone is to have the minimum of a fully-loaded pistol within arm’s reach all the time!’ He looked around the table and noted their agreeing nods. ‘I don’t know what happened yesterday,’ he said, ‘and until I can speak to George, I’m not exactly sure what we should do. I mean, where the hell did those guys come from, who are they and what were they after? I don’t know any of those things, but I do know that we need to be much tighter with our security from now on!’
Junior spoke: ‘I think that we should have a lookout, you know, a sentry or something, Mom thinks it’s a definite, don’t you Mom?’ He looked at Tori for confirmation.
She nodded, and said, ‘Yes, definitely! I think we should have someone on top of the water tank, can we build a lookout-post up there, do you think, Ken?’ Tori looked at him and Ken saw the concern lying in those piercing eyes.
He agreed, saying: ‘Absolutely we should, yeah, why not? After all, there’s every chance that they’ll come back, and we should be ready for them next time!’ The recognition of that fact had sneaked up on him; they had been so preoccupied with preparing for their own attack that the thought of going and confronting the Demon had been the only thing they’d been concentrating upon, the idea of having to defend themselves on their home ground was not one that had even crossed Ken’s mind.
He looked at Tori, and said, ‘Have you heard from George yet, what’s going on with all of this, do you know?’
She shook her head. Tori had been somewhat withdrawn since yesterday and although Ken had only been up for an hour or so, even he noticed her reticence; that chirpy confidence seemed momentarily to have deserted the tall woman. Ken hoped it was only a passing thing. That confidence, and her experience, the plain and simple fire within her belly, were things he relied heavily upon. He guessed that she was still in shock over the abduction of her grandmother.
Her words concentrated his mind. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not a single thing. I tried the Communicator but it’s not working at all, perhaps we should try again later?’
Jane spoke up. ‘I’m sure he’ll be in touch as soon as he needs to be,’ she said, confidently. ‘He’s never left us in the lurch before. I vote that we do something about defending the farm, what do you reckon, it has to be better than sitting around here and second-guessing ourselves, hasn’t it?’
She had a good point, there was very little they were able to do without some additional information, and rather than sit around twiddling their thumbs, they should, perhaps, take some form of positive action.
Ken stood, saying: ‘Yep, you’re exactly right, let’s get to it; everyone follow me to the armoury, let’s get some guns, shall we?’ As he turned from the table and headed towards the back door, the scraping of chair legs was the only sound he needed to hear.
Together they went and armed themselves once more. Within a very short space of time, their teacher had made sure that every one of them was armed with at least a pistol; he gave Tori one of the 9mms, clipped a plastic holster to her waistband and then gave her a small pouch with four extra magazines inside. Giving exactly the same to Jane, he told them that they should get a belt for the ammo pouch and make sure the weapons and spare bullets stayed with them constantly. They had no trouble at all in understanding that, the sight of the dark men rushing towards the mi
ll was not one they would forget in a hurry. With a nod, both women chambered a round and clicked the pistols into their holsters.
Ken then passed them some rifles and asked that they put them somewhere handy inside the house. He said, ‘Stick ‘em where you can get to them in a hurry, and behind something solid, too, if you can manage it.’
They took the rifles and a box of spare magazines and headed back to the house to do as he had asked. Ken made sure that he and all the men were armed with pistols as well, and once they had clipped their holsters on, the big man then dished out their rifles.
‘We’ll put slings on so you can carry them all the time,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to see any of us unarmed at any time from now on, not ever!’ They nodded, reaching out to help Ken distribute the heavy bandoliers of spare ammunition.
Once they had sorted out their personal weapons, the men then carried a stack of ammo and first-aid kit back over to the house to begin positioning the equipment, weapons and medical supplies all around the old place. After they had finished, Ken took everyone back outside and looked for the best place to make a lookout tower, or ‘Sanger’, as he called it.
Tori had been right; on top of the water tank was as good a place as any. Once they had placed a rudimentary platform on top of the thick walls, it elevated the position and gave a clear view of the lake and the windmill – it also allowed a fairly good view right up to the edge of the woods at the far boundary of their land in the east. The solid construction of the bricks that supported the heavy water tank would also provide some valuable cover should the need to withdraw back to the house arise.
Once Ken, with a helping hand from Red, had finished building the structure, he called the others up on top so they would be able to see the lie of the land. He pointed out various landmarks, giving them nicknames: ‘Windmill, Lake, Track-Junction, and Edge-of-Woods.’ He made sure they all knew exactly where each place lay and what they should refer to it as. ‘We’ll have no time for any confusion when they arrive!’ he said, making them call out each reference point until they were memorised.
It was strange because the imminent arrival of their unknown enemy seemed to be a certainty now, why they felt that way was anybody’s guess, it was simply something they all knew was going to happen. They just knew it.
As they stood looking across the land, Ken said, ‘This isn’t a fighting position, just an observation platform – once we’ve seen them coming, then we’ll get down and withdraw to a better place to fight from.’ The others agreed with him, they had done a good job with the tower, but knew from what they’d been taught, and seen with their own eyes, that pieces of wood don’t provide much protection from whistling high-velocity bullets.
Over the next few days they began to convert the old farmhouse into something more akin to a fortress. Frank and Jack arrived, the two men brought a large supply of useful items with them; items that were particularly handy in the event that you were about to be attacked by an unknown horde of heavily-armed assailants. When Ken saw the amount of empty sandbags, thick pieces of wood, wire mesh, steel plate and yards of barbed wire being unloaded from the rear of the storekeeper’s green truck, his mind once again did a playful hop-skip-and-jump.
‘It’s like they’ve all been waiting,’ he thought. ‘Sitting here and waiting for the battle to begin, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.’ He cut the thoughts from his mind and went over to lend a hand in unloading the truck.
In addition to the platform above the water tank – the Sanger – Red, Junior, and Michael had also constructed an excellent ‘Eagle’s Nest’ inside the roof of the barn. When Ken saw what they had done it had given him an idea. ‘Sniper position,’ is all he said. ‘I’ll explain later, if I can get to speak with George.’
He let them continue with the construction and made sure that they put in an extra emergency exit, one that would lead them down from the nest and around to the rear of the house. And so it was that their hasty defence continued. Ken showed them how to lay barbed wire properly, and they placed it in areas where it was decided to channel the advances of any enemy. He showed them how, once they had been channelled, the enemy would then unwittingly find themselves within the ‘killing zone’, a place where maximum force would be brought to bear by the defenders – a place of their choosing. Between them, they decided upon several such areas and set to the task of laying the wire entanglements with renewed drive.
Ken covered as many of the bases as was possible when it came to preparing the farm for an attack. Fall-back positions, dummy positions, counter-attack positions, re-supply points – where he stationed piles of ammunition, spare weapons and medical equipment – he covered them all and never seemed to tire in his enthusiasm as he calmly went from one position to another. He showed them how they should use the steel plate and wooden trestles to reinforce not only the Sanger and the Eagle’s Nest, but also much of the farmhouse as well.
Jack had made several trips to-and-fro and before long, Ken had more defence items than he was able to use. He also built plenty of obstacles with the wire and metal pickets, spending hours on his hands-and-knees, driving the pickets into the earth and carefully tensioning the wire stretched between the thick, metal spikes. It wasn’t long before everywhere was thoroughly defended.
The weird thing was, even though they had discussed the option, the idea of a withdrawal seemed to be totally out of the question. When the subject was raised by Ken, he only received some blank looks in reply. What should they do? Where would they go? The enemy obviously had the ability to send themselves wherever they wanted, and so what would be gained by the Hunters departing from the ground of their choice, why abandon the farm they knew so well, what would be the point?
He had nodded at the time, but had still made them go with him to have a good scout around for what he called a ‘Bug-Out position.’ Looking down into the deep gulley, he turned to them, saying: ‘We’ll put one of the trucks down there, stick some spare ammo, water and things, in the back and camouflage it with some bushes and other greenery. Then, if things go completely pear-shaped back at the farm, whoever’s left alive should leg it back here and get the hell out!’
The position was a good one as it was situated several-hundred yards away from the farm and was nearly three-quarters of the way to the main road. The route to the gulley was also good as it was mostly covered in scrub and had plenty of ditches and gullies in which to hide. They all agreed on the plan, Junior took Michael and went to fetch the truck in question.
The work continued for a few more days; they had taken to placing a sentry on the water tank during the daylight hours, and took shifts at keeping watch during the night, not from the Sanger, as there wasn’t much they would be able to see from up there in the darkness anyway. No, whoever was on watch just roamed around the courtyard and basically made sure they stayed awake so that any intruders would at least be detected in advance. It was a fairly pleasant task and they also had a bit of extra company to help out with it, too.
Jack and Frank had brought their three hounds over to the farm, the enormous black dogs had settled in almost immediately. ‘Just let ‘em roam the place, they’ll sniff out any strangers from about a mile away. Ol’ Rufus there…’ Jack said, pointing at the largest dog, ‘…well, I reckon he can smell the moon rising, that there dog must have just about the finest darned nose I ever did see on any mutt anywhere!’
Ken was pleased with their unexpected canine addition. Although the farm’s defences were now as strong as possible, he was still concerned about being caught by surprise; the presence of the three hounds made a huge difference and relieved some of the pressures of responsibility which he felt resting heavily upon his shoulders. When the men had dropped the dogs off, Jack had asked Ken if he was okay. He also said that should there be anything else Ken needed, then he was only to ask. Anything he needed at all, he was just to ask and they would deliver it as soon as they could.
As they’d turned back to thei
r truck, Jack had stopped and then looked back at Ken. ‘Listen,’ he’d said, ‘you’re doing a mighty fine job here, big guy, a mighty fine job for sure! Don’t you be worrying about nothin’, buddy! None of us knows exactly what the hell is going on at the moment, but things will all be just as they’re meant to be, they always are…Old Georgie-boy will be here when you need him the most, and so will we!’ He had slapped Ken on the shoulder and then climbed into the cab of the green truck.
With a wave of a gnarled hand, the two men had driven off in a cloud of dust, leaving Ken standing there with his mouth open. With the rays of some much-needed hope flooding into his mind, he walked back to the house with a spring in his step.
During the day, and occasionally at night, Ken resumed the mantle of their instructor. ‘Let’s do the drills again, shall we? One more time, come on, let’s move!’ The drills in question were what he called ‘Stand To’. He trained them all to use those two, simple words. At any time they were shouted, everyone would repeat them whilst hurrying to the pre-determined positions he had designated. Once they were in those positions, Ken would flit around the perimeter, checking they were all in the correct place and had the right weapons and equipment with them.
Many a time, even at two-am whilst sound asleep, they would find themselves being alerted by his hard-edged voice. ‘Stand to, stand to, stand to!’
At first it was a real pain and took some getting used to, but Ken had no mercy. ‘Yeah, yeah, I know we’re all knackered…’ he would cajole, ‘…but you can sleep when you’re dead, and if you don’t get your arse into position in about twenty seconds, then you’ll be even more tired – dead-tired! Now, come on, let’s move. Stand to!’