“Could be why they’re sitting in the forest eighty some miles from here,” commented Briggs. “Hard to say. We don’t know if they have any supply dumps in the area. Even if not, they might still find gas somewhere nearby.”
“That’s fucking hard to do nowadays,” said Lizzy. “Outside of old gas stations and the occasional tanker truck, it’s mostly all gone.”
“We have the advantage there no matter what,” I replied. “All right, you go find Harvey and get your teams selected and sorted out. Everyone else gets to man this spot until we’re done. I would say dismantle it now, but just in case something goes bad, I want to have it to retreat back to. Better than going all way to Clarksville or one of the other villages in Yellowstone.”
“I have no objections there,” said Captain Briggs. “We may keep the hill as an outpost anyway, since you were so kind as to dig trenches and set up latrines.”
“If you plan on using our toilets,” remarked Mary, “you’re going to have to pay. Ten cents a poop, but only a nickel to pee. You get a discount for that.”
* * *
Between our air patrols and the occasional piece of information provided by the government – damn bureaucrats were having all the fun, lounging about in Hawaii – getting close to the raiders turned out to be fairly easy. They continued to linger, so we were able to move slowly and carefully. It took just three days to draw within ten miles of where they were camped. The area was heavily forested, which was to be expected since it was the only practical defense they had against our aircraft. It was also quite rugged.
“Xavier said they are on the move.”
“Really? Where to?” I pulled a map from my vest pocket and spread it on the hood of the pickup I was using. It was a nice enough vehicle but nothing compared to a Wrangler. “You have GPS?”
“His spotter caught a glimpse,” replied Mary. “They are following the mountains by the state line, trying to stay in the forests, but they won’t be able to do that forever.” She made a mark on the map with a pencil. “They are here and going this way.”
It would have been easier if they continued to sit still, but there was nothing to prevent us from following. The plan remained intact.
“Have Xavier pull up high and stay to the side if he can, maybe circle around a lot. I rather the prophet not know how closely we’re tracking them, or that we are at all if possible. Best to make it look like a regular scouting flight.”
Mary nodded and relayed the information.
“We moving out?” asked Lizzy.
“We are. Go ahead and get everyone loaded up. We’ll put Harvey in the lead. He’s in a truck, so I can keep in touch with him via radio.” Talking to those on motorcycles, while they were driving, had proven impossible. “The terrain is kinda iffy. We might have to follow their path exactly.”
“That’ll fucking suck if the bastards see us.”
With the difference in numbers, we were counting on surprise, coupled with our greater firepower, to bring this to a satisfactory conclusion. We were far, far better equipped. The raiders had been hammered and lost a great deal of their gear, along with their more experienced fighters. We still had our toys, with plenty to spare.
“We want to close the distance but keep at least six or seven miles behind,” I said. “We maintain that until we see an opportunity. They shouldn’t notice us if we’re careful.”
“Unless we end up in the open. If we go through a field, they could see us.”
“No,” argued Mary. “They’re trying to hide too. They won’t go through a field unless they have to, and if they do you know they’ll hurry past it as quick as they can.”
“Listen up, brat… Fuck it. You’re right.”
* * *
According to the pilots, who were doing their best to be as unobtrusive as possible, we remained directly behind the prophet. His movement had slowed once more, but it seemed he had a goal in mind. Rather, he continued traveling northwest, sticking to the backcountry and avoiding towns and major roads. It was time, so we would leave the vehicles and attack on foot in the early morning hours. Both Xavier and Kimberly would participate.
Arranging to use the birds in the assault proved a little tricky. Due to our distance from Yellowstone, we had to load extra fuel onto a truck and carry it to an open field where the helicopters could refuel. We were within their normal operating range, but I didn’t want to take a chance, especially when I was depending on their firepower. Also, the Cobra was still down. The little engine thing turned out to be a major engine thing. I’m no mechanic and won’t pretend to understand the details. At any rate, Briana was contacted, and she found a spare part in our inventory. Months before we had looted the Air Force base rather thoroughly, taking as much as we could even if we had no clue what a particular item was for. Everything had been sorted by model number, entered onto an Excel spreadsheet, and placed into storage.
“What’s the plan?” asked Lizzy.
“Rest up as much as we can now. We are leaving at midnight.”
“That’ll be a long walk,” said Mary.
“Not too bad, and we will arrive well before dawn,” I explained. “We use our nifty night vision goggles and get in position. We then slam them hard before they know what’s happening.”
“I like that part,” agreed Lizzy.
“Me too,” began Mary. “Oh, God.”
Tim was heading our way, his eyes on my daughter. When was the boy going to learn? I liked the lad. I really did. He was nice and pleasant, had good manners. His father was one of our better citizens. Still, Mary had no interest in a relationship. Tim’s constant efforts were doing nothing to change this fact, and after two years you’d think he would have come to the same conclusion.
“Go talk to him,” I suggested. “Everyone knows what’s coming, and they’re all worried. He’s no different.”
Mary frowned but gave a resigned sigh as she rose to her feet.
“Be nice and do not head over to Michael when you finish,” I warned. “Come right back here.”
There was some mumbling, likely directed at me, before she moved away.
“She didn’t care for that last part,” observed Lizzy. “Think she’ll listen?”
I turned to Tara. “Find Harvey and tell him to get Michael and two others to do a quick circuit of the area.”
Lizzy let out a harsh laugh.
“Like you don’t interfere in the lives of others.”
“Without hesitation. It’s a good call though. I caught Tim sending dirty looks at Michael a couple of times.”
“Any fights?”
She opened her canteen and took a swig of water. “I don’t think he’s even noticed. I’m sure Mary has told him about Tim’s crush, but he hasn’t bothered confronting or speaking to the boy as far as I know.”
“That shows confidence,” I observed.
Lizzy snorted. “Why wouldn’t he be confident? Aside from being damn good looking himself, Michael’s got Mary talking to him all the time, and she’s turning into a beautiful, capable woman. I’m putting that down to my and maybe Briana’s influence. You’re a fucking terrible role model.”
I picked up a small stick and lobbed it at her, missing by a few inches. “I’m a good father, and you know it.”
“Well, yeah, you are better than most, even if you do let her go to war.”
“Mary’s almost seventeen.”
Another snort. “You had her fighting at fourteen. I can see her coming now, as fucked up as everything on this shitty planet is, along with the fact half the others in the militia are about her age, but during that first round with the raiders back in Wyoming…” She trailed off.
“Okay,” I concurred, “it might not have been the best move on my part.” That was an understatement. I had made a mistake there, nearly getting the girl killed, and myself, and the twins. “It turned out good in the end, and I now know what not to do with Asher and mini-Briana when they grow up.”
She leaned forward
. “Think it’ll be a girl?”
“I… I’m going to not guess. My track record on that is pretty much a total failure. Scrap the entire mini-Briana thing. We’ll just say baby from now on.”
“You’re a guy, what do you expect, that you might actually be right on occasion?”
* * *
We hid the trucks and dirt bikes in a gully, in lieu of posting a guard, and began to march toward the spot where we thought the raiders were camping. Now, when I say we were in the wilderness, I do mean wilderness. This was some of the toughest terrain in eastern Idaho. Zombies were essentially a non-issue. None had been seen for days, and that was unlikely to change. The pests definitely lacked the coordination to make their way over such steep, rocky ground.
Tara and Dale were in the lead with the rest of us following a good hundred feet behind. We also had two planes in the air, both flying without lights, their engines modified to be silent. Well, they had been altered to be as quiet as we could manage. A third, with lights flashing and a motor we purposely made as noisy as possible, was passing by far in the distance. The raiders were certain to notice it, and hopefully that would detract from the possibility they would search the skies for others.
Kimberly and Xavier were on standby with our actual attack craft. I trusted both of them, and since I was limited to one modified plane and a single Pave Hawk, they were my first choice. You see, a horde of the shambling dead was approaching Yellowstone from the south. With the Cobra down, Captain Briggs wanted to keep the other two Pave Hawks handy. This isn’t to say I couldn’t call on them – they were physically quite close and ready to go – but they were to be held in reserve. That way, if it turned out I had no need, they could swing back to Yellowstone fully armed and deal with the threat there, should the zombies not be turned aside by the barricades or any distractions Briggs arranged.
Everyone was equipped with night vision goggles – you just have to love those – and we were moving in two groups with Mary and I sticking close to Lizzy’s team. Being clumped like that wasn’t the safest thing, not when the raiders were known to possess machine guns, but getting separated would be so troublesome. Also, this formation permitted us to move without using radios of any sort or even having to call out to each other.
The twins often paused to look around or consider our route. The instant they stopped, the squads did the same. Only Mary was allowed to approach them, and that was solely to provide any updates from the air. Since the raiders had settled down for the night, and were hopefully asleep, she had not needed to do so.
Mary did make some comments to me, all the while ensuring her earpiece remained in place so she could hear what the pilots were saying. I had one as well, but she enjoyed the work so much that I allowed her to relay the information a second time, complete with her editorials and opinions. My daughter’s biggest gripe – and griping did outnumber any statements of relevance – was the weight of our gear. Like everyone else, she was in military issue body armor and helmet. Unlike the rest of us, she had an Uzi and a pair of 9mm pistols. The others all carried a M-16 with quite a few having the attached grenade launcher. Most were also equipped with a sniper rifle and several pistols. Yes, I know I’ve gone over this before. The point is that Mary carried a lot less hardware than the others.
The difference in strength, particularly upper body strength, between men and women had always complicated things. When we first established our little military force, I was inclined to insist women perform the same as men. Only, that isn’t possible, nor is it even remotely fair. The average woman simply can’t lift the amount the average man can. This is not a sexist statement, but a factual one. It is what it is. Still, this can be compensated for. First of all, we use Jeeps and trucks and other vehicles to move around. Having to march with a hundred pound backpack simply isn’t a concern, not the way we operate. Second, when we do have to hike, like now, the biggest guys carry extra. Is that fair? No, it is not, but it’s a group effort and each contributes based on his or her abilities.
Going in with only twenty four people was also a tad worrisome. There was no shortage of complaints about Captain Briggs refusing to join us, especially considering that Yellowstone was more at risk than the Black Hills. I put an end to that as quickly as I could. You see, the good captain was bound by specific rules of engagement, most of them not implemented by the military but by the civilian government, both islands and Yellowstone. The vast majority of sensible officials, the few who existed, had died during those early months, and their replacements had largely come from the private sector. A handful seemed to understand the need to be ruthless at times, but they are the minority. Too many of the fools think the best way forward is to be nice and compassionate, to bring everyone together so we can oppose the zombies united. I’m not sure how that will work regarding the nuclear war over in Asia and Europe. Being nice is clearly not on their minds. Personally, such opinions mean nothing to me. I was going to kill the prophet. No surrender would be accepted. Captain Briggs knew full well what I intended, and by removing himself from the equation, there was nothing standing in my way.
* * *
Tara came trotting back. “Found them.”
“Are they asleep?” whispered Lizzy.
She nodded.
“What sort of layout?” I asked. “Can we surround them?”
“Their backs are to a ravine, and there’s a small cliff to the north.”
“Are any awake?” added Mary.
“Three guards.” Tara’s tone dismissed them as no concern.
“Okay,” I said. “You take Lizzy’s team and get them in position. Have your brother come back for Harvey’s. I’ll go with his. Once everyone is in place, the two of you kill the sentries. You can do that, right?”
Tara nodded.
“Perfect. You shooting them will be the signal for us to open fire on the camp itself. Full strike with each squad’s machine gun and plenty of grenades at any groupings.”
“Mary, call Xavier and Kimberly. Tell them our position and plan. I want them to appear a minute after we get started. Have the other helicopters get in the air and head this way in case we need them. Tara, make sure you wait until Mary tells you that Xavier and Kimberly are ready before shooting, and that the big guns are set up.”
A second nod.
“Mary, it’s dark for hours yet, so be extra careful about telling them where we are. I don’t want Xavier shooting us by mistake, more so for Kimberly.”
She paled at the thought.
* * *
It began twelve minutes later. Once I was confident we were as well positioned as we could hope for, I signaled to Tara and Dale. They quickly dropped the sentries, who were clearly not paying all that much attention to their surroundings, and everyone else opened up. The raiders were spread out among the embers of several campfires. Some were wrapped in blankets, others in sleeping bags. There were only four tents visible, and those were blown apart by grenades. With most of the enemy trying to figure out what was happening or struggling to find weapons with which to fight back, it proved quite one sided. I’m good with that. Fair fights are to be avoided. We then lit a series of flares.
I was torn on whether or not to do this. Part of me wanted to be absolutely, completely, utterly positive that we would not get bombed by our own people. Another, teeny, tiny part considered that it might be better to not give away our position. Fear of death from above won out, and with our location clearly illuminated, Xavier roared overhead and began firing down into the trees. He couldn’t see his targets, but we’d boxed them in. The cliff and narrow ravine that formed a semicircle around the raider camp, plus our flares, marked a relatively small kill zone. The minigun rattled away as shell casings fell.
The instant he was out of ammunition, Xavier pulled up and to the side. Kimberly came next. She was in one of our special Cessnas, the sort equipped with our homemade bomb rack. She had a pair of napalm canisters dangling beneath the plane and dropped one smack dab into
the middle of the camp. It exploded, sending streams of flaming gel in all directions. This stuff is incredibly nasty, next to impossible to put out, and burns far hotter than most normal fires. It was a dreadful way to die, though far better they suffer the agony than any of my people get shot.
“Dad!”
I was peering through my scope looking for someone to kill. “What is it?”
“Xavier said a few are trying to get across the ravine. They’re using ropes.”
That was completely unacceptable.
“Have him shoot them.”
“He’s out of bullets!”
It was loud, and Mary had to scream to make herself heard.
“Find Lizzy and have her send a few people along the outer edge of their camp to circle around. I’ll do the same with Harvey. Tell Kimberly to not drop the other bomb. We’re going in.”
She relayed that message to Kimberly, twice, and darted off toward Lizzy. As I moved, Tara noted what I was doing. She grabbed Dale’s shoulder and both sprinted my way, replacing their sniper rifles with M-16s as they moved. I wish I had that level of agility and grace. My weapon swapping tended to consist of dropping one on the ground while I used the other. I had yet to master swinging a rifle off my back and replacing it with another on the move. Doing so while running was an impossibility.
“Some are crossing the ravine on the other side,” I explained. “We need to get close enough to kill them.” Giving orders to kill had become very easy over the past few years. I rarely even thought about it nowadays.
Telling those we passed what we were doing, mostly so we wouldn’t be shot on accident, the three of us cut behind Harvey’s squad and reached the ravine where it touched our line. From there, we followed the edge. I didn’t see any ropes, but there was no reason to doubt Xavier’s report.
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation Page 17