Righteous Bloodshed: Righteous Survival EMP Saga, Book 2

by Timothy Van Sickel

  Losing Mark's brother John, hits hard too. John and his wife had traveled almost a hundred grueling miles over four days to get to the farmstead, only to have John's wife die in a shootout in which John was gravely injured. John had also been instrumental in developing the farmstead as a safe haven, contributing to the stored food, and helping set the one hundred and thirty acre plot up as a self-sustaining farm.

  Word spreads of the loss, and of Mark's dire situation. Prayers are said, aloud in groups, and silently in self-reflection, even by those not even sure if there is a god.

  Niki, the ER Nurse from Baltimore, diligently works to stop the blood flowing from Mark's several injuries. She has to triage and treat. After stabilizing Mark, she tends to several other injuries, including the gut shot biker friend, and a few of the renegade bikers that are still alive. She needs trained help and she knows it. Britt has been working with her, and she knows Britt has been called the Colonel, people listen to her, and she is able to get things done.

  "We need to get Mark to town, to see a doctor, Colonel," She says to Britt. "He has lost a lot of blood. We don't have any saline, no way to replenish what he has lost. Those two renegades over there, they need extra help too. I can't just let them die. If we send Mark to town, those two should go too."

  "Ken! Where's Ken! Get him and that Buck guy in here fast! And Janie too, where's Janie Oakley! We need her too!" Britt barks out. Two minutes later they have been rounded up.

  Becca has been sitting quietly with Mark, holding his hand and tending to his needs as she can. The stress of the situation has caused her rheumatoid arthritis to flare and she is feeling not just emotional pain from the state her husband is in, but great physical pain in her hands, feet and knees.

  "I'm going too Britt. I'll gather some barter items," she says.

  "Barter Items?" Britt asks, eyebrows squinting.

  "We are Mays,” Becca states. ”We will not show up begging for help. Give me a few minutes to gather a few things. Come with me Rusty, let's put together a nice package for the doctors." Calmly, but slowly, she rises and heads towards the kitchen, head held high.

  Britt, addressing her husband, Buck, and Janie, her sister-in-law, states what is going to happen at the doctor's office. She is issuing orders, no asking questions, no hesitation. Mark was the General, and she is the Colonel. It is her job to get things done.

  "You all are going to take Mark to town, he needs to see the doctor. If you get any bullshit, find First Sergeant Fisher or Reverend Wysinger. They both owe Mark favors. These two yahoos, I don’t care what happens to them, but you make sure Mark gets seen by the Doc. Take the van. Janie, you got to run scout on the bike. Get this done, Get him to the Doc."

  Becca comes back into the room. "I'm ready, let's get going." Rusty is behind her with a box brimming with eggs, bacon, and a prized loaf of bread. Five minutes later, the ambulance run leaves the farmstead.

  Chapter 19, Medical Help

  Central City

  September 18th

  The small convoy rolls into Central City, clearing the heavily defended roadblock, and heading straight to the doctor's office. The doctor's office is closed up tight. A sign says to go to St Bart's, a local Catholic Church. They head there.

  St. Bart's has a working generator and the lights are on, making it better suited as the medical center. Although it is five in the morning, it is swarmed with people. Dysentery, and other stomach ailments have the makeshift medical operation backed up. Even with the help of the doctors and nurses recruited from the Flight 93 Memorial, the situation is bad.

  The water in the Stoneycreek River that fills the reservoir that Central City gets its drinking water from has been polluted. Ironically, much of that pollution is coming from the Flight 93 Memorial, its waste treatment system drains into a main tributary, and the waste treatment system is no longer functioning. So now Central City's water system has been fouled. A boil water alert was issued, but many people on the city water system have become ill. Giardia Cyst, from beaver fecal, and other bugs are invading the digestive systems of normally healthy people. The situation is so bad that an open latrine has been dug for those whose bowels are so loose they need immediate relief.

  Seeing the line of over twenty people, Ken harkens to his wife's words, they cannot wait, Mark's wounds need to be seen now. Ken sees a triage nurse and beckons her to look at Mark. She waves him off indifferently, stating he has to wait in line, not even looking at Mark's wounds. Ken tells Buck, the E6, where to find Top, and sends him off to the VFW. Janie knows where the Baptist Church is, and she heads that way, looking for Reverend Wysinger. Ken has to step out of the waiting line so that he can guard their vehicles, leaving Mark in line with Becca. The commotion they have started has already gathered too much attention, and the vehicles must be protected, even inside the 'safe zone' of Central City.

  A few minutes later, Janie returns. The Reverend is over at the school, with the refugees, over a mile away. She fires up the Harley and heads that way. Buck is more successful, he returns with First Sergeant Fisher, Top. Top has rousted a navy corpsman recruited from the stragglers to come with him. The corpsman quickly assays Mark's condition. The ripped off ear is bloody and gruesome, but inconsequential. The deep gash to Mark's left leg is very ugly, reaching to the rear of his knee, where the main arteries feeding his lower leg are located. If not for the tourniquet, Mark would have bled out. There is also a piercing bullet wound to Mark's left shoulder. The corpsman relays to Top the severity of Mark's condition, as he works at dressing Mark's wounds. The corpsman urges Top that Mark needs immediate attention.

  Top walks hastily up to the triage nurse and grabs her by the arm. She shudders at his grasp, trying to pull away, but Top pulls her back from her line of morbidly sick people. "You have to look at this man, he needs urgent attention." Top states.

  "They all need urgent attention," says the nurse. "Nobody gets special treatment here, he has to wait in line, just like everyone else."

  "This man has combat wounds, he needs attention now. This man is responsible for you being here. Without his leadership, you would still be back at the Memorial Site, wondering if you would be the next rape victim. He is one of our leaders, he needs a doctor's attention now." Top says

  "All are equal in my eyes, soldier man," states the nurse. "I don’t care what he has done, he has to wait in line."

  Top turns to an ashen white man standing next to the nurse and grabs a bottle of water out of the man's hand. "Miss, this bottle of water is here because of the man you are denying to see. This man has provided much of the food you are eating, he help organize the security that allows you to work in safety. He helped organize the effort that got you out of the chaos you were in. This man has earned the right to be seen now. Help us out or step aside."

  Top proceeds to start grabbing bottles of water from the people standing in line. Holding a fist full of bottles, Top yells at the nurse. "You see all of these, they belong to the man you say needs to wait! You see that fire pit over there, the one getting ready to start cooking food that will feed this town, will feed you! This man helped get that organized, assisted in bringing in the meat that will be cooked there! Help me out or get out of my way! This man will see the doctor now!"

  The nurse looks at Top fiercely, "So he is responsible for this mess! All of this militarized zone we are in. All of the misery! He waits in line."

  Rebecca, seeing this is not going well is almost in tears. She steps up and addresses the crowd waiting in line. "You all know the Wagerly's have been assailing the town and the countryside, right?" Mummers are heard from the crowd. "Well, Frank Wagerly is dead." More mummers in the crowd, and then some cheers. Becca continues, "His crew has been defeated, routed! This man here, my husband, killed Frank Wagerly! I watched him kill him. And now you are going to let him die, right here, after he has done so much to help you all out! We just had a shootout with his hoodlums. They are dead or fleeing. Can you not make room for him! Has he not e
arned your gratitude and respect?" Other locals have gathered, cheering on hearing this news, and a path is cleared for Mark to see one of the doctors. The nurse stands by, red faced and angry. She only understands equality, has no comprehension of merit.

  * * *

  Mark is brought into the makeshift clinical center. A haggard looking doctor dismisses one more dysentery case with boil water instructions, and to drink lots of fluids. He turns to see Mark lying on his table. His haggard look vanishes as he quickly looks over the battle wounds of the man before him. He immediately calls for help and two nurses step up.

  "Sara, redress this man's head and shoulder wounds. Alia, this leg wound is bad, we need to address this now. The gash has severed the arteries behind the knee. We need to see if we can save it."

  The doctor and nurse work on Mark's gashed leg and quickly realize there is nothing they can do. The doctor cannot try to reconnect severed arteries that should be worked on by a skilled vascular surgeon in a fully equipped surgery unit. He informs Mark’s family. The damage is too extensive, his facilities and skills are not up to the task.

  The injury will cause Mark to lose blood flow to his lower left leg. The leg has to be removed below the knee. Rebecca and Ken are consulted. Leaving the leg, with no blood flow, is not an option. It will shrivel and die, causing more problems. Becca and Ken begin to ask about other options, not wanting Mark to lose his leg. The doctor grows a bit impatient.

  "Take the Friggin leg!" Mark yells. "Quit debating it, get it done with! If the Lord wanted all of me, he would have taken me, but he didn't. So take the friggin thing off!"

  Mark's is the third amputation the doctor has had to perform in the last forty-eight hours. He has gathered better tools, and has gotten faster at the gruesome procedure. They still have local anesthesia they can apply, but the pain will radiate throughout Mark's body. They strap him down, then perform the antiquated procedure. Mark passes out. Ken and Janie have to look away. Top stands next to Mark, holding his hand. Top's hand has never been squeezed so tight, as the pain of Mark's bone being sawn through releases through to his hand. Twenty minutes later, Mark's lower left leg is gone, and the stump is bandaged as best they can. Fortunately, antibiotics are still available. Mark is given a shot of rocephin and is sent off with his crew to recover. The clinic is full of diseases and bacteria. Keeping him there would be worse than sending him home.

  Before they leave, Janie gives one of the nurses a large basket brimming with eggs, bacon, and a fresh loaf of bread. "Make sure your team is well fed, we need you all doing what you are doing. God bless you. We don't expect you to work for free, so we hope this can be accepted as payment for your services." A few hours later, the medical center staff enjoys the best breakfast they have had in days

  * * *

  While this has all happened, Ken and Buck have told Top of the raid on their farm, and of the final battle. Top is going to send his best people out to the Wagerly's compound, to see what remains. The whole area can breathe a sigh of relief if this menace has been dealt with.

  But the people from the city are heading their way. Some of them are peaceful. Some of them are violent.

  Chapter 20, Paul Trapped

  Wilkinsburg

  September 18th

  "Sshhh! don’t move, don't even breathe." Paul whispers to his wife. "If they find us, we're dead." Paul raises a silencing finger to Badzy, who obeys, suppressing his urge to bark wildly. Georgeanne lies next to Eve silently, clutching the 9mm, trying to hold back her tears. After only eight days of laying low in their fortress, the local hoodlum element is about to breech Paul's sanctuary.

  For three days they watched their neighbors take down the weak and the proud. The weak were unable to defend themselves, the proud were too boldly defending themselves, making them a target to be dealt with. By day five the hoodlums from a few blocks away started showing up. Taking from anyone anything that they had, mainly food. They bypassed anyone defending their homes or who looked to be trouble.

  Today, about midmorning everything changed. Gunfire had been heard starting the first night. Now and again, a serious battle would be heard, sometimes nearby, sometimes far off. But today the gunfire got serious. It sounded like a war, both nearby and far off. Paul, from his window scout positions, saw people running all day long, some armed, most unarmed. He saw more people than usual bailing out; toting loaded down wagons, shopping carts and lawn carts. He knew something was up. Something new was taking place.

  He wanted to go outside and ask one of the fleeing people what was going on, but hunkering down was his decided course of action. Going outside would let his neighbors know that the house was still occupied. That could raise suspicion, and bring unwanted attention. He sat and watched as frail people, diminished by lack of food, flowed by, and listened as the intense gunfire drew closer.

  The pace of the fleeing people picked up. A few fell, unable to keep up the pace. He watched as their compatriots tried to help them. He heard more close by gunfire, and watched as the fallen were left behind as desperate people fled.

  Something seriously bad was happening. He switched to a new spy position. Here he saw the pursuers, only two blocks away. A hoodlum fired on one of the fallen from ten feet away. No mercy. Cold blooded murder. He watched as a house was ransacked. A mother, father and two children were brought out. They were killed right there on the street, as the hoodlum that executed them yelled something about this now being their territory, that they own everything, and will take everything.

  He saw a fairly large group of gang members, all wearing red bandanas. They were going into every house, returning with what they deemed as good finds; food, drugs, beer, liquor. Two older model trucks followed the looters, the killers, and were loaded up with the stolen goods. He watched as an over loaded truck turned and head away, replaced by a vintage car, to be similarly loaded up. He saw what must have been this crew's leader bark orders and point this way and that. They hit every house as they marched down the road towards Paul's home.

  * * *

  Flee? Fight? Hide? What to do? He thinks of fighting, he has guns and ammunition. But there has to be hundreds of them. There are twenty on his street, there must be many more on the other streets. This is a systematic pillaging, a gang not just taking control, but a gang taking everything and leaving nothing and nobody behind. These gangs are well organized and well-armed. They know nothing can stop them. There is no police, no government, no god, no love thy neighbor, no moral compass, no religion. Kill to survive is what they know, how they have been brought up, and they are good at it.

  The gunfire grows heavy a block away. The looters take cover and return fire on a home being defended from this scourge. Paul watches as the gang members bring in a tactical squad. These more heavily armed men start to systematically take down the house that fired back on them. It takes them forty minutes, but they surround the house, and storm in. More heavy gunfire ensues. The gang's squad emerges from the house, giving an all-clear sign. Ten went in, but only six came back out. Four guys come trotting in from behind the looters, and the assault squad is whole again. These gangs are used to their members dying. It happened before the lights went out, so it is not unusual that it is happening now, just more frequently.

  Flee, fight or hide? Flee? Where to on such short notice? Mountain Side is the safe haven. To get there will take planning, he has no time to plan. The gang of looters will be at his door in the next few hours. Fight? He is well defended, but three against hundreds? The gang members do not fear death, a strong defense will be overwhelmed sooner or later, and Paul has seen that happen just moments ago. Hide? Where? In the attic! It’s the only choice. The third floor is being renovated, full of construction debris and building materials, maybe the hideaway hatch will go unnoticed. It's their only option.

  That is where Paul, Eve and Georgeanne find themselves as the gunfire dies off. The gang of hoodlums starts to set up a camp for the night, a block away from their home. Dusk settles in
across Pittsburgh, sporadic gunfire still echoing through the hills and valleys.

  * * *

  The three of them lay quietly in their hide spot. For an agonizing hour they lay there, waiting to hear their front door crashed in, waiting for the looters to ransack their home. Months’ worth of stored food will be found, guns and ammunition will be found. Their home will be a treasure trove to these hoodlums. But nothing happens.

  They have no idea what is going on. There are no spy holes in the attic. Paul knows his home has not yet been breached, they would have heard them breaking down the door. After a hushed discussion with Eve and Georgeanne, Paul quietly lowers the ladder and creeps down to the third floor. Through his spy holes, he sees that the looters have stopped about a block away. They have a bonfire going, and basically are having a party!

  Flee! Now is the time to flee! He sees his neighbors doing the same thing, slinking out back doors and down side alleys, away from the murdering gang. He makes a decision that they must get out now, before the sun rises. God has given them a window of opportunity, they must take it.

  He calls for his wife and Georgeanne to come down. They all move to the first floor, which has been light sealed, giving them the freedom to use a small lamp as they plan their escape. Paul states emphatically that there will be no discussion, they are going to make a run to get out of town. To stay is certain death. Even if they manage to hide today, what will tomorrow bring from these hoodlums? He reasons. They must go now. Both women agree.

  Paul starts making a list. Food, water, clothing, guns, ammunition and shelter. He has Eve show the nurse her closets, so she can choose clothes and boots. They may not fit well, but Georgeanne needs good shoes and spare clothing for a hundred mile trip. He also tasks them with packing food, specifying the dehydrated food, enough for the three of them for five days.