He unslung his AK-74 and shouted, “Hold it right there! Put your hands up!” He keyed the radio, “Cedar tree to command post, I have the escapees!”
Delquan drew his pistol and pointed in the general direction of the voice. He pulled the trigger on the massive pistol expecting an unholy BOOM, but nothing happened. What Delquan failed to realize was that the Ruger Vaquero is a single action revolver. He didn’t know he had to thumb the hammer back in order to fire it.
“Shit!” Delquan began to fiddle around with the pistol trying to get it to work.
Mary drew a bead on the voice and squeezed off a shot. The pistol, being a cheaply made and poorly designed gun promptly stove-piped, rendering it momentarily useless. Mary, stared helplessly at her weapon and stood rooted to the spot, not knowing how to clear the malfunction.
The bullet Mary fired whizzed by James harmlessly. He pointed his rifle and clicked the selector down to auto. James was a gun enthusiast, and had illegally converted his rifle to full auto after the EMP hit. He figured that the Federal Government was defunct, so what the hell. Two five round bursts raked Mary and Delquan mercilessly. The steel-cored armor piercing rounds didn’t even slow down as they traveled through them, shattering bone and destroying organs. Delquan could only scream helplessly as the military-grade bullets destroyed his body. He fell in a bloody heap on the pavement, his legs floding under him in death. Mary met the same fate, with the bullets striking her in the face and neck, nearly severing her head from her body. She fell on top of Delquan, as her life quickly drained from her. James raked the two prostrate bodies with an additional five rounds each to ensure that the job was done. He t climbed down from the hide, walked out to where the two bodies lay, and delivered one round each to the heads of the escaped prisoners. For good measure, he spat a wad of tobacco juice in the faces of Delquan and Mary, “That’s for attacking my town and killing my friends you assholes!”
A few minutes later, one of the cars that those strangers brought into town pulled up, and the guy named Mitch and Chief Krusk got out of it. Mitch handed the Chief a flashlight, and cast the beam over the two bullet-riddled bodies, “That’s them Mitch. I wonder how they got so far out of town without being detected?”
Mitch spat on the ground, “Well Elaine, perhaps the search teams just missed them. After all, it was a pretty hastily put together group with degraded communications. Not to mention that they were motivated to get away.”
The chief sighed, “I suppose you’re right. James, roll these fuckers in the ditch; we’ll bury them tomorrow.”
“Yes ma’am.”
James’s relief arrived, and they threw the bodies into a ditch at the side of the road. In the morning, a crew came out, dug a hole, covered them with a layer of lime and buried them. In the years to come, the burial plot disappeared under a thicket of brush, totally erasing the memory of Delquan and Mary, a fitting end to a pair of criminals that tied to take advantage of the fall of civilization for their own ends.
Chapter 22
I took over the watch over from Simone at 4:00am. As she collapsed onto her sleeping mat, I found a good hiding place within view of the camp and settled in for what I hoped to be a boring duty. I heated up a cup of coffee as Simone was finishing her portion of the watch to keep me company, and was enjoying my small pleasure as I sat and watched over my sleeping friends. As I studied the surrounding area, I contemplated just how far humanity had fallen in such a short time. We had met wanna-be Kings, dictators, and a true communist for good measure. The fact that people were aware that something like this could happen and still not prepare for it in the least little bit boggled my mind.
As I mused on the current state of Mankind, dawn slowly crept in, bringing us a new day. I walked over to my pack and removed the HAM radio, strung the antenna, and checked in with Cambridge.
“Charlie one, this is Bravo two….how’s my signal?”
Mitch answered, “Five by five brother….how goes the survey?”
“Just as we thought, clear for the most part, but at waypoint one there is a big wreck and some possible bandits waiting for the unprepared. Avoid waypoint two…We got ourselves a bandit king there who will not grant you safe passage. We’re headed out to waypoint three today; I’ll fill you in at 6pm tonight.”
“Copy that Bravo one.”
“The package will accompany us to waypoint four if not the entire journey. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Copy that, see you at six!”
“Copy, out.”
We decided to use a little code to conceal out movements from anybody who might be listening. The possibility existed that some sophisticated sets survived the event, so it was best to be cautious. Simone and Robert stirred in their bedrolls, and I got a small fire ready to heat up some oatmeal for us all. As I prepared the oatmeal, I watched Robert move off into the bushes to greet the morning as only a man could. Simone packed her bedroll and got to work on Robert’s, making the breaking of camp that much easier. As Simone packed her bike, Robert moved into the clearing walking stiffly.
I glanced at him curiously, “Hey Robert, are you a bit stiff from sleeping?”
“No, I just thought I would need to walk the dog is all.” He remained rooted to the spot with his eyes boring into me. Something was wrong, and I began to get the feeling that we were suddenly not alone in our little park. I squinted into the woods behind Robert as a voice barked out, “Come out into the clearing where we can see all of you with your hands up. We have your friend covered with a rifle, any funny stuff and he dies!”
I stood up from the cook fire and took my hands away from my body, and called into the woods, “Hey if this is your place, we’ll move on….we don’t want any trouble!”
“Just do what we say and nobody gets hurt….got it.”
“Ok, just don’t hurt our friend, we’ll do what you want!”
I looked over to my left where Simone was packing and didn’t see her. Hopefully, I thought to myself, she got to the tree line undetected with one of our rifles. Just as I was thinking these thoughts, a group of three men emerged from the woods. Two carried SKS rifles, and one had a pistol. They were all white men, and wore leather vests and jeans….closely matching the description of the zombie bikers I had hoped we would avoid in our travels. They were filthy, to say the least, all of them sporting greasy hair, unkempt beards and yellow teeth. They looked like they could knock a buzzard off of a shit wagon with their smell alone, a fact I became intimately aware of as the leader approached me. His sour scent covered me like a miasma as he got closer, causing me to gag. He grinned an evil grin and looked me up and down like I was prey.
“Mornin’ boy, I’m Kevin.” He smiled a sick yellow smile as his piggish eyes bored through me. He gestured to his friends, “These here are my compatriots, Gunther and Dale.” Both gave the slightest of nods, but remained wary of their surroundings. Gunther covered Robert with the barrel of his SKS, finger curled on the trigger, waiting for an excuse to kill.
I kept my expression neutral, “Mornin,' what can we do for you fine, upstanding gentlemen today?”
Kevin smiled that sick yellow smile once again and scratched his substantial belly, “I think you can surrender all of your supplies for starters, and we would love to meet that black lady you’re with for a little care and conversation.” He grinned lecherously.
Killing time had arrived again. I was mad at myself for letting these assholes get the drop on us, but even angrier that society allowed people like this to live among us without making every effort to exterminate them. By looking at Kevin it was likely was an outlaw biker of some, sort……but on the other hand he could have been an accountant for all I knew. I steeled myself for the sudden violence that was to come.
Kevin, clearly believing that he had the advantage preened a bit, “Well, why don’t you call that black bitch out her so I can get my fuck on while my boys take stock of what you got.” He hitched his thumbs in his belt and rocked back on his heels, secu
re in the belief that he was in control of the situation.
One of Kevin’s goons, the one named Dale, yelled, “Hey, I want the black bitch first! You got the bitch first the last time we scored!”
Kevin turned his head away from me and yelled, “Shut your hole Dale; I’m the leader here! As Kevin turned around to intimidate me a bit more, he noticed I was no longer where he left me. Before his brain could even register that something had gone very wrong with his plan I drew my Glock from the small of my back and delivered a 180-grain hollow point bullet to Kevin’s temple, followed by two additional bullets in his neck. Kevin’s head exploded, and he dropped to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut. Before Kevin fell to the ground, I was moving to deliver some bad news with my pistol to the fool known as Dale.
One thing I’ve noticed in almost 20 years of law enforcement was that it appeared people who carried guns rarely practiced using them. I suspect that most morons in the criminal element thought that the intimidation factor would be enough to gain compliance from their victims. Usually, they were right, and they walked away with the property and sometimes life of their victims. However, the newspapers are full of stories of people who fought back and won because they had the right combination of will and gun handling skills to triumph over their attackers. The other tidbit of information I noticed about thugs and guns is that they never practice firing their gun while on the move. Most shooting ranges prohibit such practices thanks to the nanny state that U.S. had become for fear of having their charter revoked if there was an accident. This silly rule indoctrinates people to stand stock-still and fire their guns from the most stable position. This method will more than likely gain you a neat little hole in the paper target, but will certainly not serve you well in a combat situation. I’ll never forget what one of my instructors told us on the first day of range practice, “Guys that stand still in a gunfight are the first to get shot." I took that to heart during my whole career, and in the situations, I encountered on the street involving guns and other people has proven that little maxim repeatedly.
Dean stared at his former leader’s falling body with a mix of shock and disbelief. With the information overload he was experiencing at the sudden violence he had just witnessed, he didn’t recover quickly enough to address the new threat closing with him….me.
I lined up my front sight on Dean and let a flurry of rounds go. Five bullets stitched Dean from the center of his chest to the top of his head, blowing off the top of Deans skull and flipping it into the air. Dean dropped to the ground with a surprised look on his face. Knowing that Dean was down for the count, I searched for Gunther, and found him running as fast as his legs could carry him back the way he came. Before I could draw a bead on him, I heard a high-pitched wail from the tree line, and saw Gunther sprawl in the dirt, grabbing his crotch. Simone had ambushed him from the woods and kicked him in the nuts. She grabbed Gunther by his hair and dragged him back towards his dead friends yelling, “So, you want to get your fuck on now bitch, HUH! I’m talking to you boy, what’s it gonna be!” The look on Simone’s face was pure rage and hatred for the scum that tried to rob and kill us. She dumped Gunther at my feet, “Let me kill this piece of shit Ben, he earned it!”
“Wait just a second, we need to talk to him first. Zip tie his wrists, and let’s search him; he might have valuable information for us to use.”
Simone was not satisfied, “Naw, I want this motherfucker’s ass NOW!” She produced a large folding knife and flicked open the blade, and swiped at Gunther’s crotch, missing it by millimeters.
“NO!” I slapped Simone’s hands away, and she glared at me with a look that could melt solid steel.
She took a breath and produced a zip tie from her pocket and threw it at me, “Go ahead master of interrogation, make this motherfucker talk, and quickly before I lose it!” She then stomped away and continued to pack her bike, occasionally glaring back in my direction.
Robert got up off of the ground and brushed his clothing off. He looked at Gunther and delivered a sharp kick to his ribcage, earning yet another satisfying yelp from the prisoner.
I stood over Gunther and shook my head, “You know what I should do, don’t you? I should let Ms. Simone come over here and geld you for what you were about to do us, but I’m going to give you a chance to save your worthless ass. You’re going to tell me what’s happening on the road so I can make some safe travel choices for my group. If you lie to me, and believe me, I will know when you are lying, I will have Simone come over here and cut your penis off. It’s that simple, tell the truth, and we’ll let you go, lie and bleed to death through your ruined dick!”
Gunther’s lower lip began to tremble, “Ok, boss I’ll tell you what you need to know if I can.”
“Good boy!” I picked Gunther off of the grass and sat him down under the awning at a picnic table. I spread the map out in front of him and pointed to our final destination, “We’re headed to Milwaukee, and I want to know which are the best roads for travel. I assume you have been tooling around the backcountry since the event, true?”
“Yep, we’ve got some old Panheads that weren’t affected by whatever happened. Kevin had a top of the line Goldwing, but it wouldn’t start after whatever happened happened. We’ve been all over Southeast Wisconsin from the Illinois Line to Madison to Milwaukee and down to Kenosha looking for somebody to take us in, and robbing other people for supplies when we had to.
We saw your campsite this morning while looking for some firewood and decided to take you out for supplies….looks like that didn’t work so well for the boys, and I huh?”
“It certainly didn’t. Back to the map. What’s the best way into ‘ol Beertown Gunther?”
“I would say this way.” He traced his finger along the route we were taking for the most part, while avoiding the city of Waukesha. “Waukesha is full of cops and Militiamen, they shot at us when we tried to get into town.”
“Judging by your appearance Gunther, they were right to shoot at you.”
“Suppose so….but they didn’t even let us approach and explain our business.” He frowned and looked down at the table.”
I looked over at Simone, and she made a cutting motion across her throat and glared at Gunther. I knew she wanted Gunther dead, and I knew we couldn’t let him go free so he could cause more damage to innocent civilians. I looked in her eyes and nodded; I knew we couldn’t let him go. He would continue raping and killing, and if we let him take his motorcycle, he would be even more dangerous. I nodded at Simone and sat across from Gunther, looking at him with barely concealed contempt.
“That’s all there is to tell man. So, you going to let me go now? Gunther looked at me like some pitiful animal trying to curry enough favor to be released back into the wild.
I stroked my chin as if in deep thought, “Well, it’s like this Gunther……You are a marauding piece of shit, and we would be remiss in our duties as police officers to let you go. You would only victimize others, and we simply can’t have that. So the short answer is no, we aren’t letting you go. Gunther, you are hereby found guilty of crimes against humanity and are sentenced to die at our hands.”
“What?” It was the last thing Gunther uttered. Simone grabbed him from behind and rammed her knife between his ribs, piercing his heart, and killing the would-be rapist instantly. Gunther’s eyes went wide, and he slumped across the picnic table bench, dead.
Simone twisted the knife and removed it from Gunther’s side. She wiped the bloody blade on his filthy shirt and spat upon his corpse. She laid him on the ground next to the shelter and went through his pockets for anything of value. Finding nothing, she left him lying in the dirt and came toward me.
“Let’s find his camp and take all of the good shit they’ve collected. We can use it for trade with people we meet on the road.”
“Good idea Simone. Robert, let’s start searching for their camp in the direction they came out of the forest.”
Robert remained where he
was with a look of absolute horror on his face, “What the hell Simone! Why did you do that to Gunther?”
Simone glared, “Do you remember that he had a gun on you and wanted to rape me! That son of a bitch got what he deserved, or would you rather that he shot you and had his way with me!”
Robert responded with a shaking voice, “No, it’s not that, but both you and Ben have killed without mercy since I met you. Are we protecting ourselves, or do you guys enjoy doing it?”
Simone exploded. “What the fuck is your problem white boy! All I know is Ben and I pull the weight around here since we started this journey! Ben got us this far without a scratch and saved your ass a few times as well. What have you done? I see a lot of hand-wringing and you getting your ass kicked, but little action on your part. How ‘bout this, go back to UW-WHITEWATER and beg Gino on your fucking knees to be a part of his gang. Go ahead, spend the rest of your life living in fear……..I’m done with your ass!”
Robert began to speak, but Simone cut him off with a chopping motion, “Now you got something to say? Forget it Robert, I can't deal with you any more…get the fuck out of my sight!”
I was taken by surprise by this sudden outburst from Simone. I knew I had to repair this breach in our team quickly, or we would quickly fall apart. It was true that Robert had not done much to ensure our survival or contribute to the well-being of the group, but I still saw value in him and wanted to keep him around. I approached Simone cautiously as she continued to pack her bags, “Simone, let me talk to Robert and try to work something out.”
Lights out in America's Dairyland: An EMP Adventure Page 18