Firestorm: Walking in the Rain Book 5

by M. C. Allen

  Doris cleared her throat and started croaking out a response. “Can’t we just keep taking out these bastards and taking their supplies from them?”

  I let Angel take that question. I wanted him to get more involved in the decisions. He needed to step up if Joseph was taken out of commission. My own inevitable death was just a matter of time. When you play the odds, the house eventually wins.

  “If we keep raiding their supply lines, we will attract even more attention. Right now, we could get hit at any time with a force that would roll us up in less time than the Mexican Army needed to take the Alamo. Hell, there isn’t anybody to send a letter to asking for help. Our Sam Houston is probably a gnawed skeleton down in Austin.”

  Hell, I was stunned. That was by far the longest speech Angel had ever uttered in my company. Heck, he even had a decent grasp of Texas history. I suppressed a chuckle and kept my face expressionless.

  Ashley weighed in after Angel. “We have increased our numbers, but the number of people who could contribute in a full-on fight like the ambush we threw together is still pretty low. We have guns and plenty of ammo, but few know how to act in a battle. They will shoot, but we need time to get them trained up.”

  I nodded at her assessment. I tried to help out, but I scared most of the new people. Even the ones I had personally helped release. I had become the boogieman to them. Tammy would talk to me. Dale informed me that she might try to make a move on me soon. She had been pumping the kids for information. They said they were truthful with her but didn’t tell her everything.

  Great. They were probably trying to set us up. Just what this dysfunctional family needs, a crazy father and a wacko mom. Honestly, she seemed to be bouncing back from her time with Noreen. Regina had warmed up to her quickly, which was a good sign, but Kofi stayed aloof. Typical teenage boy afraid the evil stepmother would try to change me. I needed to get focused on the discussion. It was starting to go off the rails. I stood up and stretched. I hated sitting too long. All eyes turned to me. That was a trick I had picked up as a teacher. Do something unexpected, and everyone stopped to watch the show. Or did they think I was about to start slashing?

  “My immediate goal is to scout the surrounding area to find an escape route if we are attacked. Right now, we will be trapped down this road if we get hit. The guards at the end of the road are at the extreme range of our little radios. We could use the more powerful radios we have picked up, but that opens us up for being monitored.” I started pacing the small area left open in the room.

  Joseph caught my drifting thought. “This area is flat and offers no obvious place for us to watch for an enemy coming at us. We are seeing increasing numbers of starving people just wandering up and taking food out of the garden. If word spreads, we could end up with a huge mob of zombies overrunning us.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “We saw that in the city. They are out of everything back there, and the really desperate ones will start to filter in here. We are between an interstate to the north and a major state highway to the south.” I didn’t want a repeat of the city. That had been bad. Shooting starving people just to save yourself left a permanent stain on my soul. We were on borrowed time here. Barbara raised her hand like a child in my class. I automatically acknowledged her and gave her the floor to pace as I sat back down.

  “He’s right. The rations we have now will be gone, and there is no replacing them. We have just a few chickens and goats. We have a small stock of vegetables from the garden that we are preserving in jars, but we are limited by our supplies. We have pretty much cleaned out the squirrel and rabbit populations here, and bull nettles are even getting scarce with our higher numbers. We need to save the rations and eat what we can get from the land. A lot of us are still too close to starving as it is.” She looked directly at me.

  What? I’d been trying to eat more, but I couldn’t put it all back on at once. I’d even started drinking more water since we had a reliable source. We had the same problem as before. We had bullets, but not enough beans. Everything that could hold drinking water had been scrubbed and filled.

  Lisa spoke up when my skeletal form was pointed out. “If you think David is in sorry shape, just wait until next spring. Most of us will not be here to see it unless we move.”

  Danielle nodded but didn’t say anything. This wasn’t really the group I needed to convince. The homebodies from the camp and the new people were still on the fence about leaving. I could see the point of the people who lived on this road. This was home to them.

  “I need to make a run in the morning. I’m going to get my truck and my stashed supplies. My stock of subsonic ammunition for the .308 is getting low, and that thing is definitely a force multiplier when we have a fight in the dark. I’m taking the beast and the .50 in case we need to run some roadblocks on the way.” That started an argument that I quickly shut down.

  “This is not a suggestion. We need the extra transport and the supplies there. I’ll use this as a chance to scout the roads. If you pitch a fit, I’ll take my family and everything with me. I’ve literally killed people for what we have now. I’m not being a little bitch about it.”

  It did come across as a little bitchy, but they needed to see the larger issues. It was getting dark, and I needed to get the Humvee pulled off the sentry point and loaded for our jaunt out into the badlands. I got up again and thanked everyone for their time and left. Just like that. Either listen to reason, or stay here and die. They could decide for themselves.

  As we spilled out of the house, onto the back porch, I could hear the generator humming along in the shed, powering the house and getting our clothes clean. Barbara had rigged the kitchen with an electric hotplate to make stew in the massive pot. We had our own soup kitchen running out of the house. It was better than an open fire at the campground. Tammy caught up with me and the kids before we made it to the truck we were taking to the sentry post down the road.

  “Are you feeling all right, David? You seem upset or something.” She caught my arm lightly and I had to resist pulling away from her. I stopped and thought for a second before speaking. I didn’t realize how angry I had become. The kids all stood with me in a semicircle.

  Regina spoke before I had a chance. “It’s that stress thing, isn’t it?”

  I blew out my breath lightly. “Stupid PTSD—post-traumatic stress disorder—I’ve had it for a while. Since I’m older, I don’t bounce back like you youngsters do. I’m fine when I have to fight, but as soon as things slow down, I start getting agitated. I’m sorry, guys.”

  I was a little taken aback when Tammy came in for a full-body hug. She melted against me and started crying softly. She was shaking slightly, and I was getting a little emotional too. Finally, Tammy stepped back and looked at the kids and then me.

  “Before the world went to shit, every single one of us would probably be in a residential mental health facility, getting our heads shrunk. As it is, we only have each other. David, I know you are not ready for any type of romantic relationship, but I can offer you and your family my friendship.”

  I really didn’t know Tammy that well yet, but Dale got the impression that she was a pretty stable person and spoke her mind. Regina had agreed with the assessment.

  The rest of the newly freed ladies were a mixed bag and would need to be watched in the weeks to come. Our biggest fear was the remaining possibility that they would take their own lives.

  “Thanks, Tammy. Right now, I need to keep this all out of the crapper. Maybe we can find a therapist along the way, unless they have all gone into the cookpot.”

  She winced a little at my honesty, but she accepted it at face value. “Try to avoid large camps of sadists for a few days; you need a break.”

  “We’ll try, but no promises. There’s no telling what we are going to run across.” Me and my family loaded up and headed down to switch out the vehicles. The truck had one of the 240s on the roof, where Kofi and Alex manned it as Regina and Dale piled in next to me in t
he cab. We took our time and threaded our way around the trees I had blocking the road in multiple switchbacks. If someone blew through our first roadblock, these would slow them down enough to get a welcome committee ready.

  At the end of the road, we backed the Hummer out of the fighting positon I had dug with the tractor. It would take a direct hit from some heavy anti-tank weapons to punch through it. The only part exposed was the actual machine gun and the top of the gunner’s head. When I pulled in the truck, the berm was too high. Crap. We backed out of the position and I got out and grabbed a shovel. It took about thirty minutes to shift the dirt into a pair of raised tracks for the truck tires. The Hummer had a wider stance, so it would fit back without moving the dirt again. The whole time I was playing the role of earthmover, the kids and the homebody on guard kept watch.

  The 240 didn’t have the punch of the .50-caliber round, but I wasn’t taking any risks with the kids out there. Who was I kidding? Everything was a risk. I just wanted to have as much protection and heavy punching weaponry as possible on this outing. The guard had one job. Let us know something was coming, shoot the hell out of it, and run back to the second position up behind the first set of switchbacks.

  We could only risk two people here at this position, but the hope was to suck attackers in and shred them at the fallback point. If the truck was disabled in the middle of the road while they tried to pull back, they would still be in the way. Win, win situation. I didn’t tell them that.

  We took the Hummer back and pulled in next to the small shed that was used for storage. We loaded extra ammunition and food in the back. I topped off all of our water containers from the house and settled down for the evening. None of us had guard tonight, so we could all rest. We took turns going into the house and filling our metal cups for supper. It was familiar and comforting. If we got separated or cut off from here, at least we had semi-full bellies. We were moving out at first light, so we would miss breakfast. As if we hadn’t gone without before.

  We cleaned up a little, but since we had all washed recently, it wasn’t really an issue. Our weapons were cleaned, the Hummer was topped off, and the familiar urge to pee struck me. Crap, I needed to sleep tonight, not constantly run to the outdoor latrine we had dug to avoid constant trips into the house. Sleep was elusive at first. Our bedding was rolled out next to the sides of the Hummer away from the road. Sleeping inside would just wake people when we left so early. I fell asleep lying on my back but woke up in the fetal position covered in the light poncho liner. The dew had settled and covered the grass and our sleeping forms. Someone tapped my boot again.

  “I’m awake. Thank you for the wakeup call. I’ll have an order of bacon and eggs and the Texas-shaped Belgian waffle.”

  The voice snorted. “What, you think this is the Best Western? We only get the round waffles here.”

  It was Danielle. At least she had a sense of humor.

  All right, get up, old man, and quit floundering. Coffee. Please let me kill someone with a big can of coffee. I’ll even drink that swill from Louisiana if I have to at this point. I started tapping the rest of the family. Always on the bottom of their boots. None of us could risk an infection from a deep slashing wound. We got our gear loaded up and went our separate ways to relieve our bladders since we were drinking so much extra water now. I probably gained three pounds of just water weight.

  I used to get on the scale and sigh when I picked up three pounds. Now it was a major milestone just to gain a pound. The scale we found in the house told the bitter truth. I even left my boots on to up my weight. I kept it to myself and avoided taking off my shirt around anyone. The beard remained to hide my sunken cheeks. My last hunting expedition had taken a lot out of me.

  We piled in and waited for Kofi to get the big gun up and ready. We covered it with a small tarp at night to keep it dry. I turned the ignition switch to “run” and waited for the “wait” light to go out. It only took a second before I continued the switch to the start position. The heavy diesel started up without a hitch. This thing had low miles, and had been babied. Now it was time to spread some disinformation.

  The radio and GPS tracker were functioning, but the GPS satellites were probably all toast. I disconnected the power to the radio and the tracker. If someone was monitoring the signal, they would assume the vehicle was still here and not out and about. Joseph was going to use the salvaged radios from the raiders to send messages back and forth, as if we were practicing along the road inside of our established zone. If they bought the subterfuge, we could be back before anyone knew the armored asset was out of the picture. The trip to the hidden truck was only thirty miles straight, but the backroads would almost double the distance. I figured out the route in advance with some maps we had taken from the dead. They were stupid to mark where they had set up farms and containment centers.

  The containment centers were where they basically herded people in and killed anyone not useful to them. That was the reason for the shortage of men. They were almost always the first to die. Then the elderly. Then the children. I had collected that information from interviews with the freed prisoners and my “conversations” in the house with Noreen. Jessup had not been as fruitful since he was a political hack. Nobody trusted him even after the fall.

  “Kofi, please don’t stick your head up too far. You know what happens if you do.”

  Kofi half yelled back down into the compartment. “You will turn this car around?”

  Dale howled at that, but at least he was watching his sector. I couldn’t do my area justice and drive too. Regina and Alex had their side sewn up over there. Man, nothing like a little death and mayhem to cure attention deficit disorder. They were rock solid.

  Alex still had her AK slung across her chest as well as her M4. Regina had the .22 rifle with the suppressor still, but it was sitting in the middle section along with my extra rifle. My trusty M-14 was pointed up between me and the driver’s side door. We were an impressive bunch, and if we had to, we could bail out of there with our packs and disappear for weeks without any help. My Remington was in a case we had salvaged to keep it from getting beaten up, and it was sitting flat between Kofi’s feet. That rifle would be his one day. I needed to make sure he was ready for it soon.

  All I needed was some more time. Time to heal. Time to train enough people to survive. Time to get my head right. If the world went back to normal tomorrow, I would probably walk into the woods and splash my brains against a welcoming pine tree. Tammy was right, after all. We all needed help. The only thing that would keep me from punching out was the thought of my kids growing up without me to protect them.

  I kept it together as we crept through the switchbacks and exited the sentry point at the end of the road. To the left was generally north and more really bad guys. To the right was south and the possibility of more bad guys. I was going toward the lesser of two evils. To the south we go. Lock it up dumbass.

  Crap, I really need to pee.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-THREE

  The roadblock five miles south of the campground was exactly where Joseph said it was. The cars were pushed together, forming a jumbled mass that screamed ambush. We had stopped almost a mile away and I pushed ahead of the Humvee with Dale. Kofi still had the .50 while Regina and Alex bailed out into the bushes on either side to pull security. I took the Remington AND the M4. I wanted something for near and something for distance. The high magnification of the scope and Dale’s binoculars would be useful for this. As a bonus, Dale would get some training on how to be a spotter. He would need to take over when Kofi became the primary sniper for the family. That sounded fatalistic in my head, but it was truthful.

  We were going slow and looking for the advanced sentries for the ambush. There was no way that barricade had someone just sitting there waiting. It would be too stupid. Somewhere out here was one or two guys or gals ready to shoot someone in the ass if they tried to stop short of the blocked road.

  We moved fifty yards
closer and settled down to watch. It had taken hours of slow creeping to get this far. Dale whispered, “We should be getting close by now.”

  I responded just as quietly. “Yup, Joseph said it was slap on the other side of a slight curve, and that there is the only curve we have seen for a while. It’s a good spot, and smart too. We just need to tell if these are people like us, or people we need to kill.”

  We only had two categories of folks: friends, or soon to be dead. If we saw signs of cannibals or women mistreated, they got rung up in the second category. I’m sure I had made some misidentifications in the past, but I stopped keeping score a while back. My morals were very clear. My family comes before all else.

  This time we were lucky. The sentries had taken a break to cook a rabbit they had caught. When I smelled the smoke on the wind, I was able to sneak close enough to listen in. They were basically highwaymen. Robbers who preyed upon people coming down the road. They demanded a toll, but killed their customers and took everything of value. At least they weren’t cannibals. The rabbit was good too. They told me enough to put them in category two and were reaching room temperature within a few minutes of me interrogating them. I had the technique nailed down at this point. I refrained from burying them. The coyotes could clean up for me. Their weapons were bolt-action hunting rifles, and the ammunition would help feed our small collection back at the compound. I sent Dale back with the rifles and the gear we had salvaged, as well as the leftover rabbit in his little metal cup. Before he left, Dale paused and without his usual grin simply told me, “Take your time, Mr. Metcalf, and make sure you do it right.”

  I nodded back. “I’m going to use the subsonic ammunition so you may not hear me take the shots. If you do hear shooting, it will be them trying to respond. Don’t freak out. I’ll stay out of their range and pick them off.”