by Rob Buckman
"Thought not." Decker walked up to the now cringing girl and grabbed her by the hair.
"Please, no… don't…" She begged.
"Come on bitch. I'm going to show you what else you can do with that pretty mouth of yours, and find out if you're a virgin." He growled.
The girl sank to the floor as her legs gave out, sobbing and crying as Decker dragged her across the dirty floor towards the stairs leading to the basement. His assault rifle swinging back and forth was enough to keep the rest of the women at bay. As he reached the top of the stairs, he let go of the terrified girl and knelt down beside her. Once at eye level, he dropped the magazine out of the weapon and showed it to her. It was empty. Her tear-wet eyes widened in surprise and she looked up at Decker with a puzzled frown.
"I'm not going to harm you, little one." He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Let's go back." He stood and held his hand out, but for a second she didn't know whether to take it or not. Finally, she did and Decker helped her to her feet, holding her hand as he walked back.
"Okay. Lesson in point. What's your name?"
"Joann… sir."
"You did well, Joann."
"Huh?"
"Without playing on the macho male bullshit stereotype of what we think women will do in any given situation, Joann's first reaction was perfect. What she did is what most males would expect her to do. You on the other hand also did what a stiff prick macho asshole would expect from a bunch of worthless women would do when threatens with a supposedly loaded weapon.” He held up and showed them the empty mag. Expression from rage to shame passed over their faces, but Decker knew he'd gotten the point across.
"The moment someone pointed a weapon at you, fear of injury and death will stop most people from acting. If we get jumped, which I'm hoping our point and flankers can prevent,” He shot them a look, “that's exactly how I want you to react in a similar situation." He let them think that over for a moment.
"You mean… just let…"
"Let them rape one of us… or all of us?" Ronda finished.
"Yes and no. If a situation like this occurs, say when we are scavenging for supplies and you are caught, that's exactly how I want you to react. You have to let the asshole on the other end of the weapon think just because he has a gun on you he has the upper hand. He will expect this, and if your reaction is the same as Joann's, he’ll think he's reasonably safe. It's the fear of injury and death that stops most people from attacking or defending themselves until it's too late." Decker started walking back and forth along the reformed ranks."
"So, what will we be doing?"
"For one," he turned to Joann, "take the position you were in when I grabbed you by the hair." Joann thought for a moment and then sank down close to Decker's left leg. Decker gently took her hair in his hand.
"By this point, Joann would be begging and pleading with the man… or woman come to that, not to hurt her, all the while pulling one or two of her hidden knives. Depending on the position of the person holding her, say like this with her by my left leg. In this position, she has several vulnerable points of attack. The best one would be a stab at the groin, stomach, or kidneys. However, the one thing you must remember. Once you start attacking do not stop for any reason until the person is totally incapacitated or dead."
"And what about the rest of us?" Grace asked. Decker knew it was the question they all wanted to ask.
"You on the other hand will be looking scared, cringing, maybe a little crying, if you can manage it, and, without being seen, draw your own knives. Once Joann starts stabbing the asshole, he, or she is going to scream, cry out, or even squeeze off a round from his weapon in reaction. At that moment, his companions, if he or she is with a group, will, for a split second, instinctively switch their attention to the person whose screaming or yelling. That will be your signal to swarm all over them, but!" Decker held up his hand, "no more than three people to each. He could hear the question before they'd even asked it. He motioned four girls in the front rank forward and demonstrated.
"With four attacking close up, you will get in each other's way. Try it."
The girls did, moving close enough to strike with imaginary knives, pushing, and shoving each other to get at him. As he said, they tended to get in each other's way and it was easy for him to push them away and move back. He stopped them.
"Now try it with just three of you." They did, but hesitated to get really close.
"No, no, no. Close. Swarm me. One of you grab my weapon and force it up or down. Another grab my collar or jacket and hold on while you stab me in the kidneys or ribs. If you are on either side, grab an arm and stab into the gut, throat, or armpit, and remember, keep stabbing as you drag the asshole down." They tried it, instantly seeing the difference. Each now had the room to get in close as Decker suggested, and did what he told them. Even with him struggling to escape, they quickly had him on the ground and helpless.
"Wow… I mean, that's going to be a little tough." Joann muttered. Decker stood up and walked over, looking her in the eyes.
"What did you imagine I'd do to you if I'd really dragged you down to the basement?"
"I… I don't know… rape me?"
"That would be the least of what one of those assholes out there would do to you. If you need an incentive should this happen, just remember what you felt just before I stopped."
"Fear."
"Yes, fear. Turn that into anger and use it to your advantage." Decker saw the looks, fear, disgust, anger, all the normal human emotions that any civilized person would feel when confronting something as horrifying as stabbing another human being to death.
"Make no mistake. Many of the reports we received before long range communications went dead, were about bands of men and woman roaming the countryside raping and pillaging. They shot all the men, young children, old people, the sick or injured and took the younger women as slaves. I don't think I have to tell you what those girls suffered." He saw them nod. "Any rules of civilized behavior went out the window the moment the aliens arrived and dropped their shit on us. If you want to survive, you will have to do the same or worse."
"Not a very pretty picture you're painting, Sarg… Sir." Decker sighed.
"No, it's not, Krista. The fucking aliens just kicked us back about two, maybe three hundred years and sadly, the worse in our society took full advantage of the situation."
"How… how many people do you think died, sir?" His eyes told them the story.
"The first estimate was two to three billion."
"Oh, my god… that many?" Decker nodded.
"And that total is going to climb. What the aliens didn't get in the first sweep, the lack of electricity got soon after. The human-race in most so called, first world countries depend on electrical power. Once that went, chaos took over, especially in the major cities." He didn't need to elaborate.
Without power, aircraft fell out of the sky. Rail transport came to a halt, above and below ground. Uncontrolled fires came next, followed by the fight for food and water. Decker could see the horror of a collapsing civilization in their eyes, and the dawning realization of how lucky they'd been so far.
"I guess you are right, sir. We… all of us had better get our heads in the right place if we are going to survive."
"Good. By the way. One rule is paramount. No one goes off by themselves. You all go in at least three, preferably in fours. That means even going to the toilet. Take it in turns, two or three watching while the other goes about their business. Clear?"
"Yes, sir." This time the majority answered. They were beginning to get it.
"I've cut out a bunch of knives for you. I roughly sharpened them, but expect you to take these files and stones," he held up a few of the content from the second box, "and sharpen them until I can shave with any one of them."
"Yes Sir, our Pack leader needs to keep his beard neatly trimmed." Grace put in. That brought a nervous laugh from the girls.
"What about scabbards, si
r?"
"Use whatever you can find, and a way to strap the knives to various parts of your body. Even a tiny one like this," he held up a three-inch piece of sharpened hacksaw blade, "if sharpened to a razor edge you can slice through a major artery with ease. Come and get your weapons, girls. Take as many as you think you can hide on your body, but remember. The major one needs to be handy and easily to pull.
"And the rest of the weapons, sir?"
"I'll be distributing those between the people who can best handle them. We don't have an unlimited supply of ammo for the M4A1, so we'll save them for any major problems where the bows won't suffice."
The girls set to work sharpening their various knives and making scabbards. By now, the dogs accepted him and he scratched each of them behind the ear as he headed for the basement shower. As he did, he pulled Doctor Mason aside as the girls took the knife of their choice.
“When you get a moment, Doc, I want you to show them the vulnerable points on a human body. They have to know the best place to stab, how hard and so on, also where to cut instead of stab.”
“No problem.” She smiled slightly and shook her head. “Not something a Doctor is usually asked to do.” As she walked away, June Lowery walked up.
"That was a little rough... Sarg… sir. Did you have to be so…"
"Crude?"
"Yes, I suppose you could say that." She colored a little.
"It was deliberate. All of you have to understand what we are dealing with out there. The human garbage won't use nice clean, polite words, nor will they be kind to anyone that stands in their way. They’ll have no compunction about shooting you at the first sign of resistance."
"So, our only hope is to pretend fear and submission?"
"Now you’ve got it. It's your one great defense, and gives you the opportunity to take them out."
"That's a brutal assessment."
"It's a brutal world out there now, and only the smart ones survive."
"Not the strong?"
"That's too, but you have to fight smarter than the other guy to survive." Decker gave her a lopsided smile and took off down the stairs, leaving June to her own thoughts.
"Okay girls, fall in!" Decker barked, standing back as the gaggle of women scurried about trying to remember where they were supposed to be. It took a while to get sorted out. Decker just looked down and shook his head thinking back to his time in a training depot while he was recuperating after a Royal Marine mission went sideways. It seemed the new recruits were the same on both sides of the Atlantic.
"Heaven help the poor buggers you lot run into. They'll probably die laughing." The red faces of the girls told him he'd made his point.
"Seeing as I don't have time to train you before we move out. I have to find out which of you have the aptitude to handle a weapon, and who needs more training." Saying that, he pulled a blanket off the long table, exposing eighteen M4A1 assault rifles.
"Gather around the best you can and pay close attention as I slowly strip and reassemble this weapon…" he held up his M4A1, "… this is the same as the ones on the table. I'll do it slowly a couple of times, so pay close attention."
Systematically, Decker slowly disassembled his weapon, being careful to show and point to the release button, and the order of disassembly and reassembly. He didn't rush and took the time to show each piece and how it fitted into the weapon before laying the parts out on the end of the table. After the last reassembly, he laid it down beside the others and stood back.
"Now then. Nineteen of you that feel you can do what I just did step forward. You will have one minute to disassemble the weapon, and one minute to reassemble. You will only get one chance to do this. I don't have the time to train all of you to use the limited weapons we have, this way I exclude those that are not comfortable, or don't have the natural ability to strip and clean one of these in one minute or less. So, step up girls and get ready." It took a few moments for the girls to sort themselves out and move to the front, all except one. Joann, the 16-year-old quickly pushed everyone else out of the way and stood next to the table, grinning from ear to ear with excitement.
"Wait. Joann, you are too young to handle something…" June Landers protested.
"Not any more, June. If she can prove to me she can do it, so be it. Everyone fights." There were a few murmured comments around the room, but they died the moment Decker looked at them. The exercise went on six times until all the women had stepped up and tried. One or two didn’t even get the weapon open, let alone stripped. He ended up with thirty-two women who could at least strip and reassemble the M4A1 in two minute or less.
"Thank you for playing my little game. I can see that many of you will be able to handle a weapon very soon, after a little more training, and as soon as we get more. The rest of you, back to knife sharpening and tidying up. The rest, follow me." He was glad to see several team leaders among the thirty-two girls, now was the time to see if they could shoot.
Decker picked up his weapon and reaching into the long side pocket of his Bergen, he pulled out the silencer. He slipped it down the barrel and screwed it in place as he walked downstairs. Looking out the doorway, he checked to make sure the skies were clear before stepping outside.
"Alright. Shut up and pay attention," they cut off chattering and looked at him, "off to the east of here at about one hundred yards is a target I placed there earlier. Each of you gets one chance to step out of the doorway, locate the target and fire. Clear?"
"And if we miss?"
"You don't get to carry one of those nasty things, silly." Someone at the back answered for him.
"Ester is right. With only eighteen weapons, I have to find who's a natural shot, as I don’t have time to train you."
"Makes sense, sir. June agree, being one the women who’d passed the strip test.
"It also means that having one of these comes with a great responsibility. Three of you will be assigned to each of the flanker, point, rear guard, and forward scouts on a rotating basis. Eight on and sixteen off, and it will be your responsibility to assess any potential threat, and if necessary take out that threat if the long, or crossbows won't do the job. Being silenced you won't disturb the local wildlife when you take the target down, nor alert other possible tangos to our location." From the look on their faces, he knew he had their attention.
"What if we shoot the wrong person…"
"It will be your call, but in this situation, I'd rather you kill several poor innocent buggers than risk all of you. That sobered them.
"Here and now there's no one to judge you, no police, no courts and no judges, not even me. This is about survival, not morality. If you don't think you’re up to the job, say so now." A couple of the girls looked a little uncertain.
"If it comes down to us surviving a possible meeting or them, which do you pick?" He looked directly at the two women.
"I… we… don't think I'm up to just killing someone out of hand, just because he, or she might be a threat, sir."
"That's okay. I understand, and it's no shame on you. Thanks for coming down and trying. That's what counts.
"I can defend us if we are attacked, sir." One added. Decker nodded in understanding.
"It’s a hard thing to ask you to deliberately shoot and kill a fellow human being that’s not doing you any direct harm. But all the normal rules of human behavior went out the window the moment those assholes arrived and wiped out a good part of the human-race."
"So, if we want to survive, we make sure no one threatens us."
"Exactly. In all cases, the flanker and scout teams will try to avoid an engagement, but the unexpected will happened. That's when you have to make the instant decision to kill or be killed." He could see the expression on several of the girl's faces changed as they looked at him. Guessing correctly, he'd had to make that same decision many times. There was a lot of blood on his hands, not all of it from the ungodly.
"With the world in the state it is right now, it won't matter if you
make a mistake and blow the poor suckers head off. Your one and only responsibility is to protect the Pack. Got it?" They nodded. "Right then. On my mark, step out the doorway, turn to your right, locate the target, and fire one shot."
"What's the target, sir?" Decker didn't have to answer, nor was he going to.
"That's the point, Dennis, you have to locate the target and fire at it within the time limit." Herriot answered for him.
"Oh, I get it." Dennis Michelson smiled, looking a little sheepish.
Decker stepped to the left out the doorway after a careful look around and settled to the ground out of the way. He'd set out a target several hours before, and quickly picked it out. Zooming in on it with his visor, he called out.
"First shooter up on my mark - Now." Intent on the target he didn't see who it was, not that it matter at the moment. Whoever it was found the target, fired one shot within ten seconds, and hit it dead center.
"Nice shot!"
"Thanks… sir." Flipping up his visor, Decker looked up to see the Joann, the sixteen-year-old of his rape demonstration looking down at him with a smile on her face. Decker took the weapon from her and reloaded it with one round. After resetting the safety, he handed it back.
"Give this to the next girl and tell her the safety is on."
"Yes, sir!" Joann looked as if she wanted to salute. Decker quickly hid a grin.
One by one, they stepped out, fired their shot, and took the reloaded weapon back to the next. In all, only ten of the girls proved they had a natural ability to shoot. It was a little disappointing, and he knew he'd have to use them sparingly, and work out how to train more of the girls to shoot. That evening after they'd closed up for the night, Decker called them into formation. He had to admit they did it better this time, and didn't look half-bad. They even managed to find a box of berets in the QM store, but they lacked a badge in front. With a certain degree of formality, he called each of the girls he'd chosen forward, and solemnly presented them with a weapon and the Spec-Ops equipment that went with it.