She nodded, helping me to lay Dad down on the floor.
As evening turned to night, the fighting ceased, both sides licking their wounds and deciding what their next step would be. At this point, I calculated we’d inflicted much heavier losses on our enemy than they had on us, but we had far fewer bodies to spare. And I wasn’t sure just how much thinner we could spread our defenses. Our perimeter was just too large and our numbers too small. With every defender we lost, our ability to defend the castle was substantially reduced.
The rest of the night was spent largely tending to Dad by candle light and continuing our defensive vigil. Emily and Claire stayed with Dad who had lost a lot of blood. We ended up moving him downstairs to the basement to be further from harm’s way. The only good thing about his wound was that the bullet appeared to have passed clean through his arm, although what damage had been done to the muscle or bone of the arm, I had no idea.
Upstairs, Sharron and Joanna split the night shift so that one could keep a roaming vigil while the other slept and vice versa.
Downstairs, Will, Ray, Pam and I broke up into pairs for two-hour shifts, leaving two to stay on watch and work on any repairs to our defenses while the other two slept. After Jason was asleep, I even pulled Sarah, Shane, and Paul to help on watch and assist with bolstering defenses around the house. They looked tired and scared, but at this point, who wasn’t? Even Cashmere was on watch tonight. She patrolled wherever I was, keeping her distance, but always remaining within sight of me.
Mostly we used flashlights to work, making sure the beams were off or dimmed whenever we passed by a window or doorway just in case. We didn’t want our attackers taking shots at us by using the beams from our flashlights to pinpoint our locations.
Thankfully, we had plenty of furniture with which to work on repairing our defenses since the French doors leading out to the walled garden had pretty much been destroyed by the intruders’ attack and Joanna’s Molotov cocktail. We piled sofas and chairs up high around the remains of the doors so that it was impossible to use this entrance and was likely one of the most secure portions of the house. We then finished with the upstairs, using mattresses and box springs to close off the remaining open windows just in case the Molotov cocktail idea was now circulating among our attackers and they were thinking of trying to burn us out by tossing incendiary devices through open windows.
Around midnight, as I went to refill a bucket with water to boil to treat Dad’s wound, I realize that our fresh water supply had been cut. I figured that Richard had disabled the pump system that was housed in the garage. Thankfully, we had a pre-readied supply of fresh water stocked in the basement, but this new development didn’t bode well for our chances should we have to hold out in our fortress castle for any substantial period of time. I wondered if he’d decided to wait us out. I had to admit, it wasn’t a bad idea.
Eventually, as morning approached, we moved the kids back downstairs to shelter in the relative protection of the basement with Jason and Dad. Emily and Claire had managed to finally stop the flow of blood from Dad’s wound and get it cleaned up and bandaged. Then they had dosed up him with some of the painkillers we had on hand, along with a shot of whiskey from a flask I’d stashed in my bug-out bag for just such occasions.
Things were getting pretty rough. Ammo was beginning to dwindle, and I reminded the group to conserve bullets at all costs and make their shots count. The only thing we could do after this was wait for the next attack. The problem was, we estimated that we only had about enough ammo to get us through one more big assault, maybe two if they were probing type attacks. Otherwise, we’d be largely down to handguns and a shotgun or two, none of which we had much ammo for. The only guns we had a reasonable supply of bullets for were the .22s, and they didn’t pack much of a punch in a defensive type situation where real firepower was needed. I could only pray that we had inflicted – or would inflict in the next attack – enough casualties on these people that they would just give up and go home, figuring their lives were too high a price to pay for our home and our food. But I knew the power of hunger and of desperation…as well as of revenge. And the residents of Tipton might be willing to go much further than I thought just to be rid of us.
As dawn broke, I was almost positive that the next attack would come at any moment, but as the sun rose higher, nothing happened. Everything was quiet and I noticed much of the snow had melted. I half hoped, half expected to look outside and see the vehicles gone and no people moving about in the woods, but they were still there.
As time passed and noon arrived, I began to have the troubling feeling that Richard and his people might be content to sit and wait us out. We had enough food to last us at least a week or two, but fresh water and wood to cook with and keep us warm were sorely lacking. I guessed that we could make our remaining water supply last about two more days. Even when we were conserving and not doing things like washing hands, brushing teeth, and all the rest, drinking water among more than a dozen people added up to a sizeable amount of consumption each day.
I also pondered whether Richard might just be playing mental games. There was little rush on his end. He’d cut our water supply, controlled the woods – our main source of food – and he was probably pretty sure we weren’t going to try to attack, so he could take his time deciding when, where, and how he would make his next move. All the while, his people could rest, conserving their energy, while we were forced to maintain our vigil, remaining on constant alert, which was both stressful and exhausting. And with so few defenders, it meant that lack of sleep was becoming a real issue. My eyes ached and burned, and I constantly felt tired and jumpy. I expected every noise to bring with it the next assault. It was exhausting. Meanwhile, our foes knew exactly what their next move would be and when it would come, while we were left constantly jumping at shadows.
If Richard had half a brain, he probably had a pretty good idea of how many of us there were inside the castle by now. He’d made enough probing assaults to also be able to pinpoint where both our positions of strength and weakness were. While I myself couldn’t see too many such weaknesses – other than lack of defenders – I’m sure there were some, and being able to see the castle from outside rather than being behind its stone walls probably presented a much different prospective on where the next attack might be successful. I’d spent so much of my time looking out from within the castle’s protective stone walls, I’d forgotten to look at it from the outside as a potential attacker might; but now it was too late. And as I tried to visualize the castle’s exterior elements in my mind, certain areas were coming up as blanks. I just hadn’t spent enough time viewing the structure from afar.
It made me mad – mad at myself and mad at these idiots who were attacking us. I almost wished they’d just make their next move so we could be done with it. The waiting was driving me crazy. If they weren’t going to leave, they should just get on with things…but they didn’t; they waited.
That night, again I was sure that the attack would come. And yet again, I was wrong.
I lay awake all night, waiting, expecting, planning, preparing – but nothing happened. Others slept in shifts, but I couldn’t. Every sound, every movement – by Claire or by someone getting up to use the bathroom or get a drink of water – meant impending doom to me until I realized that it was nothing.
Occasionally we’d hear a lone gunshot in the distance. Each time, I’d jump up, ready to defend our castle’s walls. And each time, nothing would follow. I wondered if they were taking shots at a passing deer or rabbit, or if they were just taunting us, playing mental games, trying to keep us awake and nervous. Whether they were or not, those were the results. And I realized that we were fast becoming prisoners inside our own castle.
CHAPTER 3
Dad wasn’t doing well. And to compile things, he was constantly thirsty and consuming more than his share of our already limited water supplies.
His injury was in the upper part of his arm, near the shoul
der, and it was causing him severe pain. We eventually had to move him away from the kids to a different part of the basement so that his moans and cries of pain wouldn’t scare them or keep them awake when they were trying to sleep.
Sarah did a wonderful job of playing nurse to him as best she could, and Paul was a great runner, getting her supplies whenever she requested them. They split their time like little adults, caring for Dad and watching Jason. We were all proud of them but also felt bad loading these sorts of responsibilities upon them. It was a situation in which we were all burdened by certain responsibilities we neither wanted nor ever expected to have.
We were now on our third day of being surrounded by Richard and his people. It’d been over a day since we’d had any new probing attacks or attempts to break through our defenses.
It was time to talk about ideas for what our next move should be.
I called the group together – minus the children and Dad – in the family room. It was the first time we’d all been in the same room together since the attack began.
I tried to seem positive, but I’m sure I looked, and probably sounded, like shit. I hadn’t slept more than a few minutes here and there since the attack began.
“You guys have all been holding up well,” I told them. “I’m proud of you and how you have responded to this situation. It’s been tough on all of us.”
I looked around the room. Everyone looked tired. No one wanted to make eye contact and most just looked down at the floor. Ray and Pam sat together on a mattress on the floor. Will and Sharron sat together on a nearby sofa, Sharron’s head resting upon Will’s shoulder. Claire and Emily sat on the floor near me as I stood talking, and Joanna stood off by herself, leaning against a far wall.
“Okay guys, it’s time to make some tough decisions. We’ve been holding out for three days now. We’ve done well, but here’s the situation. We’re running low on water, we’re running low on ammo, and eventually we’ll be running low on food. All these people really need to do now is wait us out, and the way things are going, they’re not going to have to wait long. The way I see it, we have two options…well, I guess three actually, but there’s one I don’t really want to consider, and that’s surrender.” I paused, “Anyone interested in that?” I asked.
No one said anything.
“Okay then, so we really have two options. One, we use what ammo we have left to attempt a breakout. It’s dangerous as hell since we’d either have to try to make it on foot or try to get to the vehicles. Either way, they’re going to have us out in the open with the kids, Dad, and any supplies we’ll be carrying. And since they have vehicles blocking the access road, we’d have to break through their barricade while they’re firing at us if we want to try to take our cars. Personally, I think the risks in doing something like that far outweigh the rewards since even if we do make it, we’ll be in the same situation we were before we arrived. We’ll be out on our own, without a safe place to stay, and without access to additional food, water, fuel, or ammo. And who knows what’s waiting for us out there once we leave.”
I surveyed the room. Little had changed. People were still staring at the floor or walls.
“Any thoughts on that idea?” I asked.
“It’d be tough,” Ray added. “No doubt about it. It looks like they have us completely surrounded and it’d be tough to know in which direction to head. We’d have to make our attempt at night to give us any sort of shot. And I think taking the vehicles is out. First off, since they’ve cut power to the well pump, it’s obvious they control the garage. So even if we got to our vehicles and got them out, it would only allow these people to concentrate all their fire on the two vehicles, and with the firepower we’ve seen that they have at their disposal, they’d rip our cars full of holes in under a minute. We’d all end up like Bonnie and Clyde. We’d be lucky to get out of here in an armored personnel carrier.”
“What do you think about taking a shot on foot?” I asked him.
“It’d be risky, especially with the kids,” he said. “And what about your dad? He’s in no condition to be moved right now, let alone having to carry him. It’d not only slow us down to a snail’s pace but it’d be agonizing on him too. And even if we got a good head start, I bet you anything these people would track us down on ATVs or snowmobiles within a couple hours at most.”
“Good points,” I agreed. “Well then, our other option is to stay put. However, if we do, we’re going to have to discuss a few things – first off, the ammo situation. We’re going to have to switch up guns. We’ll use the .22s for defense from the second floor since we have more ammo for them. The rifles and shotguns will be for close defense whenever any attacker reaches the castle. Handguns will remain the backup pieces and for interior defense should it come to that. We’ll swap guns around after the meeting. Anyone on the first floor is not to fire unless you’re damn sure you’re going to hit someone. I’m down to a couple magazines for my rifle and 16 rounds for my .44. Ray? Will? How are you guys?”
“About the same,” Will nodded.
“Me too,” said Ray.
“How many .22 rounds we got left?” I asked Sharron.
“About 200,” she said.
“You and Joanna each take 85 each,” I told her. “Leave the other 30 for the handguns.”
“Any guns without ammo, put in this bag,” I said, tossing a big canvas bag down on the floor. “I don’t want them getting mixed in with the guns that we can use and causing unnecessary confusion.”
A few handguns were tossed into the bag along with a shotgun and a hunting rifle.
We also redistributed the three remaining Molotov cocktails. One remained with Joanna, one stayed with Sharron, and one went to Ray and Pam.
“Good,” I said. “Now, to discuss the staying put option. It’s not a great one by any means, but all things considered, I think it’s our safest option. These people out there,” I pointed outside, “they don’t know what our supply situation is or how long we can hold out up here. And if we can stick it out a few more days, they may give up and go home. We’ve killed a number of their people, and the longer this goes on, the more chance there is of their losing the stomach to fight.”
“What about water?” Sharron asked. “We’ve only got a few gallons left and I have nothing to water the plants in the greenhouse.”
“Plants are all going to die anyway because of the cold,” Joanna quickly interjected. “You see the greenhouse roof? It’s like Swiss cheese. And we hardly have any wood to heat it in there even if the windows weren’t smashed.”
Sharron began to cry, “But I worked so hard,” she sobbed.
Will comforted her, hugging her close. “We’ll get it fixed up after this is all over,” he consoled her.
“Sharron makes a good point though,” I said. “We’re dangerously low on water, and without it, we’re screwed. And yesterday’s sun has melted most of the groundcover. About the only option that I can see, without rain or more snow, would be to try to slip someone out under the cover of darkness and get down to the stream.”
“Oh, that would be a cake walk,” Pam snorted sarcastically
“It would be tough, but it might be worth a try,” I said. “If only one person goes at night, I bet he’d probably be able to get through their perimeter unnoticed.”
“Wouldn’t work,” said Ray. “Or at least, it wouldn’t be worthwhile,” he added.
“Why?” I asked frowning.
“Well, think about it,” he said. “How much water is one person going to be able to carry on his own? Three, maybe four gallons?” he shrugged. “Plus, that stream is what, half a mile away or more, right?”
I nodded, understanding now.
“That’s a hell of a hike at night, carrying multiple gallons of water and trying to do it quietly. You need at least two people, if not more, to make it worth trying something like that to provide us with the amount of water we need to try to outlast these guys.”
I took a deep bre
ath, “But then you leave the castle even less defended.”
He shrugged, “I mean, what are you going to do? It’s a chance we have to take unless you’d like to rethink the whole surrender thing.”
I looked around the room. “Okay,” I nodded, still thinking. “Who’s going with me?”
Will stepped forward. “I’ll go. I know that area pretty well from our hunting trips. If we just take hunting knives and a handgun a piece, we should be able to carry at least three to four gallons a piece just in our hands. We can also carry backpacks with empty plastic bottles to fill at the stream and then wear them back. Between the two of us, we should be able to get anywhere from ten to twelve gallons, which isn’t a ton, but it should give us a couple extra days.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Unless it snows or rains today, we go tonight. We can’t afford to wait much longer. Until then, everyone do their best to conserve water.”
Heads drooped around the room and there were some sighs. “I know you already are, just try to do better,” I did my best to sound positive. “I think the longer we can hold out here, the better our chances. Tonight, Claire, I want you and Emily to split the east side of the first floor – kitchen, dining room, breakfast room, and mud room. Ray and Pam, you guys have the west side – family room, library and office. Joanna and Sharron, you guys are still upstairs. Got it?” I asked.
There were nods and mumbles of confirmation.
“Any questions?” I asked. Everyone shook their heads, no. “Okay then, Emily, if you could check on Dad and then work on getting empty water containers together for tonight that would be great. Ray, Will, and I will take watch for 15 minutes. Moms, you all head downstairs and spend a few minutes with the kids and then you’ll switch off with the dads.”
The Systemic Series - Box Set Page 43