The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

Without leaving his seat on the tractor and peering through the peephole with a gun pointed at the man, he said, "Yes. What do you want?"

  "I have information for sale."

  "What's the information and what's the price?"

  "The information is that you're going to be attacked. By a large, well-trained paramilitary group. The price is sanctuary."

  "You've already given me the information. Why should I pay such a high price? We've cut rations twice and thrown four people out. We barely have enough food to keep ourselves alive. Another mouth to feed would cause problems. The others are pissed at me already. I don't want any more hassle."

  The irritation in John's voice was clear, but the man appeared to pay no attention. "You don't know who, or how or how many. I can give you that."

  "Since you want to be here, I can assume we will win the battle. So, again, why do I need you?"

  "You will win the battle -- only if I tell you what I know. Otherwise, you won't."

  "How do I know you're not a spy and once you're in, you'll signal your friends and tell them the best way to attack us? Or you'll turn on us in the middle of the battle and kill some of us. I don't trust you. Go away."

  The man scowled at John and wheeled away. As John backed the tractor up the driveway keeping an eye on the intruder, he pulled out his radio and called the lodge.

  "Cho here."

  "Is George around?"

  "Sure."

  "Tell him and Harry to take the Demon and follow this guy. And tell them to hurry. He's getting away."

  The next day, Harry and George did not return. John was worried and that night couldn't sleep. Just as dawn began to break on the second day, Harry and George returned, put away the Dark Demon and crawled through the tunnel to the lodge. John was sitting at the old, worn wooden table in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea.

  "I always liked this table," said John. "It's ugly, but it has character. Something like our lives now. So, tell me, how'd it go, guys?"

  "Not bad. You up late or early, John?"

  "The alarm you put in woke me. I wasn't sleeping well anyway. Where've you guys been? It's been a day and a half. Did the car breakdown? I was going to send out the cavalry today. I don't know where I would've sent it though."

  George took a cup from the cabinet, filled it from the teapot on the stove, and handed it to Harry. He took another and filled it for himself before sitting at the kitchen table and taking a teabag from a box on the table. "No breakdowns. And I'm glad we packed extra rations under the back seat."

  "We did?"

  "I did. Anyway, he went back to a large block building, about ten miles north of here, right on the river."

  Harry took a sip of his hot tea and said, "We figured it was an old warehouse because of the pier out into the river. That's what we've been calling it. The warehouse."

  "It was all fenced in. Razor wire over the fence. Must have held somethin' valuable. He took a roundabout path. I thought we'd lost him a couple times, but if I stopped and rolled a window down, I could hear that little cycle putt-puttin' a long way away. Amazin' what you can hear when there's no traffic and no AC units."

  Harry continued, "I did a security sweep. The building is about two hundred feet from the forest on two sides. On the river in the back. Open in the front with two loading docks. We saw four lookouts on the roof and counted over a dozen men coming and going during the day. No women. Several motorcycles. Three box trucks, two pickups and three SUV's parked outside the building. They could plow through our old fence without slowing down with the box truck. It's good we built the barrier."

  Harry took another sip of his tea and George took over. "You were probably right about him. He just wanted to see what we had. I didn't see any farmland. If they are makin' their own food, it's somewhere else. So, unless they have a farm somewhere, they take their food from somebody else and right now, we are lookin' like a grocery store to them. We have a field with crops."

  "OK, thanks. Right now, you guys go rest. We'll talk some more when you're ready."

  * * *

  After dinner, the group gathered in the great room of the rustic lodge. George and Harry were rested and had time to think about their surveillance trip. After they recounted to the group their adventure in the Dark Demon, a few gasps could be heard from Marceau and Masako. Iris wrung her hands, fear evident in her eyes.

  Cho harrumphed. "Crops not ready to harvest. Not grocery store. Not now. Maybe later. No problem -- now."

  "So, what do we do?" Tom said. "Sounds like formidable opposition. Fifteen military people. Maybe more. We could negotiate an agreement, or wait and fight. But remember what Churchill said. Fight them where they are. In the fields and everywhere."

  "He was a great leader, said Fred. I studied him and his conduct in the big war, while I was in the military. But, you're right. Take the fight to them. We could wait and fight later -- at a time of their choosing. We could sit here with around-the-clock patrols, worrying when they'll hit. We're losing sleep, doing no foraging and they're fat and happy. We would have to stop all foraging and keep everyone here to defend the place. I doubt that we could negotiate anything, other than a complete surrender. They probably figure we're only a bunch of farmers. Even just a bunch of kids. Most of us are under twenty-five. Not any serious opposition. I say that Tom and Winny are right. The only choice is that we take the fight to them, ASAP."

  "Oui, I agree. We take out their four lookouts. They will stay inside their building. As they come out, we hit them. Bing, bang, bong. Like shooting targets in the circus."

  "OK, a good plan," said John. "But what if they don't come out? What if they wait us out? I think we need more intel, first. Pierre, you, George and Charles go back and do some more surveillance. Since you're our main shooter, I want you to sign on to any plan we develop. Wait until you've charged the batteries. Figure out how many people we'll need and the best way to deploy them. We can't take everybody for the raid, only six or seven. Somebody has to stay to guard the camp. Will we have good cover? Can we watch all the entrances from the forest? What do we do if they come running out and jump in their vehicles? Is there any way for us to sabotage their vehicles? Do they have any vehicles in the building? Does the building have a big door where more cars or trucks could come flying out or only the loading doors you mentioned? Take your camping gear and watch them for a couple days. We may not have much time, but we have to have enough intel. We will only have one chance at this. We'll make a final plan when you come back."

  * * *

  John was in the office checking inventory sheets when George, Charles and Pierre appeared in the open doorway. Marceau had given him a calorie count from the cans and he had improvised the caloric content for the other items. His big concern over food was making it last until they could live from the garden. George had done this chore in a rough manner before. John was counting every calorie and making adjustments for each person's weight. He didn't want a panic on his hands or a hand-to-hand fight among the members of the group. They had to stay unified to exist. If they didn't find food and provisions ran out .… He didn't want to think about that scenario.

  "You're back. How did it go? What's the situation, Charles?"

  "As George said before, four guards on the roof of the warehouse. Vehicles in the parking lot. We can hit the guards first, then disable the vehicles by shooting their tires. Only two other doors in the building, both standard doors. They have a loading door in the back, but a big gate spans the pier, and it has a lock. They have only one road in and out. They were a little too casual with their security. They must be confident. They appear to be military people, the way they carry themselves, but with their security, I think not."

  "OK, doesn't sound too bad. What else?"

  "As we used to say in the Middle East, this guy is a local warlord. The men always carry pistols. We should start carrying a weapon, always. We could be ambushed. Two-man groups came and went during the day. They were all going north. They must be l
ooting a town. They drive a truck north once a day in the evening and drive it back early the next day. It would be good if we could follow them to see where they are going. But, they would hear the motorcycles and the Dark Defender's viewscreens don't work well in the daytime."

  John paced behind the desk, mulling over the information and then stopped and swung a leg over the corner of the desk, sitting. He glanced from one to the other. "What if we started picking off their patrols? Station yourselves north along the road at the first branch in the road and see which way they go. Then, when the coast is clear, go up the road and wait at the next branch. Keep doing that and try to see where they're going. Pick off a few as you go. If we can whittle them down, the main assault will be easier. We'd have a better chance."

  "It would take time, mon amie," said Pierre. "Several days. If we made a mistake and one escaped, then all of them would descend on us. You do not disturb a hornet nest unless you are going to burn it completely."

  "True. I thought you never missed."

  "I do not, but I cannot be responsible for the others."

  "Take Fred and George with you. They are good with a rifle. You shoot one rider, they shoot the other. If one misses, the other won't. Just make sure you hide the bodies well. Talk about it. Put a plan together before the Dark Demon is recharged. Let me know what you decide. If you want me to go along, I will."

  Chapter 35 - The Demon Rides Again

  By the next evening, the plan had been revised and optimized, many times. Pierre, Charles, Fred and George left in the Dark Demon around four in the morning. That way no one from the enemy compound would see them and they could find the perfect position to hide themselves to watch the warehouse. After half an hour, they stopped at a point just off the road leading to the warehouse. They watched the building for an hour, keeping out of sight of the guards on the roof, in case they had night vision binoculars. Nothing was happening. They headed up the main road and, at the first intersection, they turned left. They drove about a mile and, at the next intersection, Pierre and Fred climbed out of the car and walked into the forest between the two roads so they could fire in either direction. Charles and George drove back to the intersection of the two main roads, turned onto the right branch, and waited at the next minor branch. Searching the area, they found a dirt trail not far away to park the car where it would be shrouded by trees. Dawn started to break with enough light to walk back to the intersection. Once they had found cover behind trees, George pulled out his radio.

  "We're OK."

  Fred responded, "OK here," keeping the message short in case somebody around had a scanner. They settled down, waiting for their prey and kept a vigilant eye on the road and an ear to the sounds of the forest.

  As on previous days, just after sunrise, two motorcycles left the building and headed north at the first turn. As they passed the next turnoff, they took the left fork and headed northwest. At the next fork, they went right, heading in the direction where George and Charles were lying in wait. Charles was the first to hear the roar of the engines. He nudged George and both men stood against their chosen trees, rifles steady and pointed toward the road. It took only two shots to bring the riders down. The motorcycles skidded along the road for a hundred feet. George and Charles smiled and nodded to each other. A mission accomplished.

  George took out his radio and said, "It's done."

  George and Charles drove back in the Dark Defender and picked up the others. They removed the bodies, hiding them in the undergrowth of the forest, and stowed the motorcycles under dead leaves while Pierre stood guard.

  "Good shooting, guys," said Fred. "Not much damage to the cycles. We can ride them out."

  "It was a successful skirmish," George said, "But it's not over." He yanked on his pants, pulling them up.

  "Lost some weight, George?" said Fred.

  "Yeah, but it took a plague to do it. Over ten pounds."

  "I think this will be a good day. Let's head up the road to the next intersection, wait and see what we see."

  After two hours, another set of riders could be heard. They passed the intersection and at the next, they slowed and made a left. Before they knew what hit them, two more shots brought them down. As the scene was cleaned up, Pierre heard a moan. One of the riders was still alive. He wrestled with his conscience, the doctor part of him took hold for just a minute, but then he aimed his gun and shot the man in the back of the head. Pierre's body responded by stiffening like a board until George laid a hand across his back.

  "It's war, good buddy. Nothin' more. Sorry, but it's just not personal. We gotta keep rememberin' that."

  Pierre snapped out of his musings. "Oui, it is not personal, but it is not my first, either. I do not like war. I am not a good soldier. It is beginning to wear me down. At first, as John says, it was a game. I thought we could win. But, we don't win. We only keep losing. Now, it is just war." He walked over and helped the others clean up the site, throwing dirt across the road to hide the bloodstains. They stowed two more motorcycles and bodies in the forest.

  "Maybe we should hang around here and see what happens," said Fred. "They may send out a bigger force to check up. Depends on what kind of communications they have. We wouldn't want to meet them on the road."

  "I know where they are goin'," said George. "About five miles ahead, the map shows a town, called Meadowvale. Wish we still had the internet. I could look it up and see what these guys were into. But, if we cut across the woods, it's only three miles. It would only take an hour on foot and we'd see what's up."

  "John did not say that," said Pierre. "We're supposed to find where they are going and take out a few of them. We should stick to the plan. We have already taken out four. That was the plan."

  "Sure, we've done all that. Now, we have some time and an opportunity John didn't foresee. If we go back and report, then come back, we've wasted five hours riding, two days recharging the Demon and we've exposed ourselves to people on the road. We really shouldn't use the Dark Demon except at night. Let's go see the town. In any case, we need to be off the road."

  Pierre looked down at the ground. "Certainement, Pourquoi non. Why not? It is war. I used to be a healer. Now I am a soldier. A killer. It is the new world and I do not like it."

  "It isn't the new world yet," said George. "Any trip to a better place goes through a swamp. This is just the swamp. It'll get better. You'll be a healer again. I promise."

  Pierre looked at George and hugged him. "Merci, mon amie. Merci."

  They trekked through the forest for an hour until then they emerged at a giant clearing. The shortcut required crossing the open field.

  "George, what now?" said Fred. "Not a good idea to cross that field during daylight. I wouldn't be too happy crossing it at night. These guys may not be military, but some of them have military training. Somebody might even have night vision equipment. We'd be sitting ducks."

  "The map didn't show this clearing. It must be recently cleared. Someone probably intends to plant it with something. But, we haven't seen anybody."

  They skirted the woods until they were close to the road, looking for some shelter as they attempted to reach the town. Charles outstretched his arm, bringing the others to a halt. "Listen. Motors. Motorcycles. More."

  "Much more," Pierre said. "We should go closer to the road, but stay out of sight."

  George crept through the forest, dodging from tree to tree. The others followed, all using the trees as cover. Six motorcycles and a white box truck passed, heading north.

  "Wonder what that's about?" said Fred. "Must be something valuable in that truck."

  "That is the truck we saw back at the building," said Pierre. "They are going to make a pickup."

  "Let's follow and head toward town along the edge of the clearing. This is too good to pass up."

  An hour later, they reached the top of a hill overlooking the town. Fred pulled out a set of binoculars and scanned the area. "Guards with rifles on the two water towers. One guy o
n top of that white building. What do you say, George?"

  "I wish we'd thought of that. Just take over a whole town. Forget about stockin' up. Go in, shoot all the people, take what we want."

  "A little extreme don't you think?" said Fred. "We aren't that kind of people. Plus, none of us really trusted John enough to go killing people. Did you, George?"

  "Almost. Maybe. No, not that much. What about you, Pierre?"

  "I trusted Marceau's father, Francois. He was a strange man, but he knew what he was talking about. He had connections in the French government, to people who knew the situation. Yes, I trusted him and them. Completely."

  "I agree with Pierre," said Harry. "Terry Porter knew what was happening. I wouldn't have left England if I didn't believe it was the end of the world. Seriously. Sounds like you guys should have a little more faith in John. He was in at the very start of all this. More than anybody else, he really knows what's going on."

  Fred looked at George and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just not the trusting type." Fred, realizing their attention had been diverted from watching the strangers, quickly looked around the area and then back through his binoculars. After observing the scene for a minute, he continued, "No way to know how many they are or what they're doing. I don't see the truck or the motorcycles. Only the three guards." He handed the binoculars to Pierre.

  "Oui, mon amie. Three guards. That is all. I am a doctor and not a military man, but this town looks difficult to defend. Too many entrances. Too many places to hide. There must be something valuable here or these people would not be here."

  "Let's wait until night and check it out," said Charles.

  "Into the lion's den, eh, Charles? You have nerve. I'll give you that. I shouldn't be surprised after you blew up those pirates."

  Fred's words brought back to Charles the memories of the beginning of this predicament and of the landing in Virginia. He had shot pirates and blown them up with a grenade as the group attempted to land. The pirates had no idea what the future held and would never know. Sometimes he wished he didn't. "Yes, I had almost forgotten about all that," he said, with a shiver. "The water was cold. I do remember that."