War Zone: Homefront

by Thomas A. Watson

  They pulled out optics and set up the Barrett fifty, since John had the BA110 .338 Lapua. John wasn’t comfortable with the fifty yet, so Nathan volunteered to haul the artillery piece. Grabbing a camo net, Nathan spread it over them before the two peered through binoculars and spotting scopes, making notes.

  It was after the first change when Nathan and Tom were on the valley side of the ridge, and they got to see why the group was hiding off the road. Three motorcycles came rumbling down the road, heading for Prichard. “Got ‘em,” Tom said, looking through the spotting scope.

  “Mew off?” Nathan queried, his mind running over the timetable.

  “Yes, for another five minutes,” Tom confirmed.

  “We may want to video this,” Nathan murmured, and Tom nodded before pulling out his own electronics.

  With his binoculars, Nathan watched the group hiding near the road. ‘Hiding’ was Nathan’s term because the group was just sitting under a garage awning that sat under some trees. When they heard the motorcycles, the group moved to the road and Nathan watched them lift a heavy chain up, tying it off between two trees.

  “That’s more forethought than I’ve ever seen from a tweaker,” Nathan mumbled, staring at the chain hanging across the road. There was no doubt, every person they had spotted so far was tweaked out.

  Even with the Mew, they were having a hard time getting numbers in the subdivision because the tweakers would stay in very close groups, and there was a lot of electricity in the subdivision. John and Tom both got to see the talk Nathan had given them, demonstrated on the sandy banks of the river. One rather large group just swimming in one spot was staying near fifty, and Nathan recognized six he had seen, having arrested them before. One, Nathan was surprised to see, since he had been sentenced to ten years for assault just before Nathan had left for his nursing conference.

  This side was easy, there was only this one group. Watching the eleven spread out across the road, Nathan saw this wasn’t going to be a surprise ambush and lifted his binoculars up. Locking on the bikes, Nathan confirmed what his ears told him, these were custom Hogs. All three riders were wearing leather vests with what looked like M4s strapped across their backs. Catching a glint from one of the rider’s arms, Nathan zoomed in and saw a two-inch-wide shiny metal band around the upper left arm. The band was above the bicep and below the deltoid.

  “Not good,” Nathan mumbled to himself once again.

  “What?” Tom asked, taking pictures with the integrated camera in the spotting scope.

  “Iron Lords,” Nathan replied. “That’s one of the gangs Sheriff Hargrove told us about. I knew we should’ve shot the Kester brothers years ago. Get this on video, so we can study it later.”

  When the bikes rounded the gradual curve that followed the river around the finger ridge Nathan was on, they saw the group across the road. Nathan heard the rattle of pipes decrease when the bikers slowed and none of the bikers seemed worried, which made Nathan’s anxiety increase.

  The motorcycles had never been going faster than fifty, so had no trouble slowing down. Then it hit Nathan. “Tom, did you see the motorcycles start to slow before the curve?” Nathan asked.

  “No, one is pissed, flipping the middle finger to the tweakers,” Tom answered. From eight hundred yards, all Nathan could see with the binoculars were the bodies. With the spotting scope, Tom could tell one of the bikers had shaved his face recently, but needed to trim his eyebrows.

  The three bikes stopped across the road side by side, about twenty yards from the chain. Nathan could see the driver in the middle waving his arms about. “The one in the middle is yelling,” Tom reported.

  “I don’t see the other two going for weapons,” Nathan said, making a note to get John’s marine binoculars.

  “Oh, they aren’t. Both are laughing,” Tom reported. “One at the roadblock is yelling back.”

  All of a sudden, six of the tweakers lifted their rifles and opened up. M4 automatic fire rolled across the valley and Nathan saw sparks from the bikes where the shells hit. Only the rider on the right was able to get off his bike before being cut down. In twenty seconds, it was over.

  Nathan saw one at the roadblock turning around, throwing his hands up in the air. “One of the tweakers isn’t happy,” Tom reported. “He just pulled a pistol.”

  Hoping the tweakers would thin their own ranks, Nathan watched with optimism before the apparent tweaker leader turned around, strolling over to the bikers. Leveling his pistol, he shot each one in the head, then seemed to look the bikes over with profound interest.

  “Nathan, I’m not sure, but I think he’s mad because the others shot the bikes,” Tom offered.

  Moving his binoculars back to the others, “Yeah, they want the rides,” Nathan said, watching one of the tweakers put something in his mouth and then saw the flick of a lighter. “We’ve seen them shoot up, ingest, and smoke meth. I bet if we took all the teeth from that ambush group, we couldn’t make a whole set of teeth.”

  The lead tweaker called some over, and the bodies were pulled off while others lifted the motorcycles off the road. Impressed as he watched the tweakers strip the bodies nude, Nathan was surprised when all three motorcycles started up without any trouble. A brown pickup rounded the curve from Prichard loaded with more tweakers. “Mark the time,” Nathan said. “I count eleven in the back of the truck.”

  Three ambushers drove off on the motorcycles, heading back to Prichard. The others tossed what was taken from the bodies into the pickup while the new group climbed out. Tweaker leader stood, watching the seven left from his group climb in the back of the truck and then joined them. “Tweakers surprised me again,” Nathan mumbled, watching the new group drop the chain off one of the trees, letting it lay on the road.

  “Why don’t they just leave it up?” Tom asked.

  “Tom, I can’t even think of a reason,” Nathan admitted.

  Hearing gunfire behind them off in the distance, Nathan lowered his binoculars. “I bet that was the other roadblock at the T intersection just past Prichard,” Nathan guessed.

  Unlike this roadblock, that group stayed somewhat hidden. The one on the other side of Prichard, the group was sitting around on the road. There were two trucks pulled across blocking the main road, and a chain blocking the smaller road that ran in from the north.

  At the next change, Nathan and Tom met John and Tim in the camp. “They shot a man who came up with his family on Prichard Creek Road on bicycles,” Tim told them as soon as they knelt down. “They stripped the man’s body, but took the woman and two kids off into the houses.”

  “Three bikers on our side,” Nathan reported, pulling out his drinking tube. “I think they were with the ‘Iron Lords’ Sheriff Hargrove told us about. Each one had a metal band on their left arm.”

  Pleasantly surprised, Tim raised his eyebrows. “Gang infighting? That’s only good for us.”

  Shaking his head, “Not necessarily,” Nathan said. “From what we all know of the Iron Lords, the Kester brothers are organized and deliberate. From what the sheriff said, they’re now fifty to sixty strong. If word gets back to the others, tweakers are taking them out, we’ll have a war right here.”

  “And how is that not good for us?” Tim asked.

  “One, we don’t know how or what direction the Iron Lords would hit them, and we have no idea where the tweakers or Iron Lords would run if the battle goes bad for them. We could find groups just hauling ass getting lucky, taking the right road into our valley.”

  Giving a long sigh, “Yeah, I could see our luck turning bad, and that could happen,” Tim agreed.

  “You agree with the house I think is the lab?” Nathan asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Tim gasped as he nodded. “I saw them pouring the waste into the river,” he paused, “from a fifty-five-gallon drum. I’m not lying when I say John and I think we saw fish float up.”

  “Whoa,” Nathan mumbled in shock. “That would make a shitload of meth.”

  “N
o, the kicker, the lab is still cooking. Nathan, they are making the shit by the pound down there, and it’s for them. They aren’t selling. In six months, all of them should be dead.”

  Holding up his hand, “Tim, I’m sorry to say, but you’re wrong. It takes a lot more to kill cockroaches,” Nathan assured him. “Next, we can’t be sure they aren’t selling. We haven’t even been here a day.”

  “Nathan,” Tim cried out in whisper. “Have you seen how much these assholes are using? I saw one girl smoking meth while she shot up! Everyone down there has a pipe they use nearly every hour.”

  Nodding, “Yeah, seen that,” Nathan admitted.

  “Nathan,” John said, clearing his throat. “I think we need to meet up like this every second time we swap, just to find out what the other team has spotted.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Nathan nodded, giving John a wink.

  As Tom followed Nathan off, “You just told me we were going to do that,” Tom said.

  “Yeah, and John thought of the same idea,” Nathan grinned as they laid prone on the ridge.

  Just after darkness fell, Nathan and Tom saw an SUV and five trucks pull in from the east. They didn’t travel to the roadblock at the T junction. Instead, the vehicles pulled off at a house just before the junction and drove through the yard, bypassing the roadblock and heading to Prichard. “Nathan, there are a lot of people in those trucks,” Tom whispered.

  “I see,” Nathan said, looking through the thermal binoculars. Forty minutes later, four pickup trucks rounded the curve from the west. They pulled off the main road into the subdivision of Prichard.

  “Nathan, they added too many at once for me to count with all the trees around the houses,” Tom said.

  “Yeah,” Nathan nodded. “It’s time to swap.”

  Meeting back at the camp, Nathan saw Tim shaking his head. “What?”

  “They don’t put the chain up because they don’t stop their patrols,” Tim said. “They move the trucks because we heard vehicles but no gunshots.”

  Shaking his head, “No, they pulled off the road at those houses with that bridge over the creek, going through the yard and bypassing the roadblock,” Nathan said, kneeling down.

  It was easy to see under the cloudless sky, so he waited until the other three knelt down with him. “Guys, I want to go down there,” Nathan told them.

  “Nathan, I can only imagine what is going on in Prichard because the darker it got, the wilder the group at the chain roadblock got,” Tim barked in a low voice. “Hell, we can’t even get an accurate count, there are so many down there and convoys keep coming in adding more.”

  Holding up a hand, “Tim, several of those houses are just white and red blobs on the MU. We’ve all watched them and seen people coming and going, but have no idea how many are inside. You’re right. I’m just going to recon to get a better grasp on numbers,” Nathan explained.

  “By yourself, huh?” Tim huffed.

  Shaking his head, “No, I’m taking John and Apollo,” Nathan replied, and John felt his mouth go dry. “You and Tom will stay up here on the sniper rifles. We don’t need to keep an eye on the chain roadblock.”

  “Nathan, we know they’re bigger than us,” Tim said.

  “Yeah, last count was one hundred and fifty-seven just partying near the river where it looks like they’re gathering wood for a bonfire, and I really don’t feel that was close even for the party, but with these groups that just came in, the numbers increased a lot,” Nathan paused, looking at Tim hard. “Those patrols coming in, I’m sure they added over a hundred easily from each patrol.”

  Turning away and just looking through the trees, “I swear, every tweaker in northern Idaho and western Montana is down there. How did they find each other?” Tim mumbled.

  “Tim, you’ve helped bust up tweaker parties,” Nathan huffed. “Hell, that one we busted up last year at the park on Lake Coeur D’Alene had over a hundred. That’s why we had to call in the state police, there were more of them than us even after we called in all the reserve deputies.”

  “Okay, you have a point,” Tim said. “I agree, we need a better assessment of just what is under all those trees around the houses.”

  “If for some reason that group at the chain roadblock comes up here, because the Mew stays off, then take them out and pull back. I want both of you on thermal scopes. We’ll leave radios on and when you two move out, call, and we’ll meet up with you at Peak Creek at the triple falls,” Nathan instructed.

  Shaking his head, “There’s no way in hell those guys could even make it up this slope,” Tim scoffed.

  “I’m always amazed by what a tweaker does for no apparent reason, so don’t count it out,” Nathan said, and loud music sounded below them. “Don’t shoot unless we get compromised.”

  “Understood,” Tim nodded.

  Nathan turned to John. “Ready?” Nathan asked, tugging on John’s tactical vest over the ghillie suit and making sure it was tight. Not trusting his voice, John just nodded. “Mount your goggles on your helmet,” Nathan said, pulling out his quad tube goggles.

  “John, take my path and don’t deviate. If I go around the left side of a tree, you take the left side too,” Nathan said, adjusting the contrast in his goggles until he liked the image he had.

  Watching Nathan lead John down the slope, Tom and Tim moved off, gathering the stuff from the west side of the ridge. The duo then moved the gear to the east side and finally, both got down behind a sniper rifle. It was thirty minutes later when Tom saw the two wading across the river. “You see ‘em?”

  “Yeah, I’m just hoping this is a good idea,” Tim replied, shifting the Barrett toward the houses.

  “Nathan always has good ideas,” Tom objected.

  “That he does, but sometimes, it’s how he executes those plans that bite him in the ass,” Tim stated, and Tom couldn’t think of a defense for Nathan. Because many times, Nathan had told them the exact same thing.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Just six feet behind Nathan, John copied his every movement as they eased down the slope. That was easier said than done. With his M4 in his right hand, John had his left hand out on the slope while he leaned back, stepping down the seventy-degree slope. Standing upright, John had both feet and his left hand on the ground, and he prayed he wouldn’t slip.

  Many times on the trip to Idaho, Nathan had taught John and the others to move through the woods, but not one time had there been people around to sneak past. Glancing to his left, John saw a large rocky slope that was vertical, and was thankful Nathan hadn’t taken that route. Turning to look down the slope, John saw the road and several houses on the other side near the river, along the river road northeast of Prichard.

  Losing sight of them, John turned back to Nathan creeping slowly down the slope. Then, he realized Nathan always kept a tree below him. When he reached the tree, Nathan would ease around it and then aim for the next one below. “In case he slips, he won’t go far,” John mumbled at the revelation.

  It was then, John realized because he was following Nathan’s exact path like he’d been told, he too was keeping a tree and Nathan in front of him. He’s so awesome, John thought. Scanning just ahead of Nathan, John felt a little envious to see Apollo wasn’t having any trouble, literally slinking headfirst down the slope.

  They were only fifteen yards from the road when they literally stepped off the slope onto flat ground, and could hear the river over a hundred yards away. Dropping to one knee, Nathan stared ahead just listening. The Mew had told them nobody was in these houses every time they’d checked it. Almost continuing on, Nathan stopped and eased closer to the road.

  Darting across, he could hear John behind him, running on his toes like Nathan had taught him. Stopping near a tree, Nathan looked at the houses and two mobile homes along the river bank. Pushing up, Nathan headed for the closest house, since it was the only one that had the door closed. Peeking in the window, he saw stacks of boxes and tried the doorknob, finding it
locked.

  Looking back in the window at the stack of boxes, Nathan could see from the labels they were canned food. Moving along the front of the house and peering into windows, Nathan saw each room was packed with boxes of canned food. He saw labels for everything from creamed corn to tomato sauce. All the boxes he saw were the same that were normally shipped to stores, and Nathan just wondered where the tweakers had gotten them and why they were over here.

  “Some of these tweakers have a few brain cells still functioning,” he mumbled, and headed across the yard to a mobile home. He didn’t even approach the door, able to see the inside had been ransacked. He stopped, and after seeing the next houses ahead looked ransacked, he just passed them by.

  Following Nathan, John was thinking of how he could make the Mew more portable and put a small display in his goggles. Keeping his head on a swivel, John watched behind them and the path Nathan was taking. Gripping his rifle tight, John could feel his gloves were soaked with sweat, even though it was cool. Processing that, John realized his clothes were soaked and felt sweat dripping off his face when it ran from under his helmet.

  Slowing his pace as he neared the bridge that crossed the river before the road reached Prichard, Nathan glanced down at Apollo and saw Apollo looking north under the bridge toward Prichard. Hearing the loud music, Nathan was somewhat thankful.

  Picking his way down the bank, Nathan stepped into the water and eased across. With the sound of rushing water, he wasn’t worried about splashing, he just didn’t want anyone to see two shadows moving through the river.

  When his right foot entered the water, John’s eyes grew big as he processed the chill. And these fuckers were swimming in this! his mind screamed as he followed Nathan’s path. When the cold water reached his thighs as they reached halfway, John said a prayer that it wouldn’t get any deeper. Seeing Nathan wasn’t reacting to the water, John gritted his teeth and ignored the chill.