Righteous Bloodshed: Righteous Survival EMP Saga, Book 2

by Timothy Van Sickel

  "That’s aggressive!" says Randy. He sends his over watch truck to the crest of the hill as a show of force. "Don't engage them unless they engage you. Holler for a negotiation. If they fire, don't hold back, they have murdered people and taken over farms. I'm going to get the rest of us ready to bug out of here. We'll head back to Benson, then make our way south to Jerome. Be careful up there."

  Randy does his best to help out the descendants of the founder of Johnstown. Then he hears gunfire break out from over the hill. The loud reports of the 30 cal let's him know the over watch has returned fire. Many people just died senselessly. More gunshots come from his left. His perimeter team returns fire down the draw. He has the firepower advantage, but they have the greater numbers. The killing has to stop. It is time to get out. He calls his men back. The other truck comes down from the crest of the hill. They over load both trucks to take the rest of the Johns family down to Benson Borough.

  Once safely in Benson, Randy gets on the CB again. Communications are scratchy, but he relays their status back to the militia headquarters. There is relief that the group is okay, and they approve him moving south towards Jerome. They let him know that new information indicates things may be dangerous there too.

  * * *

  Jerome has several heavy roadblocks set up, but they are short on manpower. They have been taking in people from Davidsville who all tell the same story. They have been kicked out of their homes, off their farms and land by city people saying 'this is ours now, this belongs to the community'.

  The patrol gives instructions about the CB's, and sets up arrangements for communications before heading farther south to Boswell. They are told that a roadblock was over run on Route 30, and to be on alert. People from that area have already come to Jerome, seeking refuge from the marauders.

  Coming into Boswell from the north, Lt. Anders' convoy hits a lightly manned roadblock. While clearing through they confirm that a Route 30 roadblock was breached the night before. A large group of over two hundred people had come up 219 from Johnstown and over whelmed the roadblock. The town has more people on their southern roadblocks. Everyone has been pulled back to protect the small town. The countryside, and all the farms, is open to be looted.

  Lt. Anders issues his same requests about setting up communications, and the group loads up for a trip back home. Randy is worried about the return trip. They have to traverse the same ground that is now being looted by the folks who crashed the roadblock. He has his people do an ammo check. Most are good, but the M60 is down to two hundred rounds from the eight hundred they started with.

  "Stay alert people! We got bad guys out and about, and it's twenty miles to get back home. We are going to roll down Route 30. No back roads. We need to see what's going on." Sarge barks, as his two trucks and one remaining scout bike head out.

  They come up to the blown out roadblock. It has been shabbily rebuilt and is lightly manned. They stop to clear through. Randy does not like the looks of things as he and two of his men walk up, white flag held high.

  "Bad scene last night huh?" He asks

  "Yeah man, they was ruthless. We barely held our own." Replies a thin man at the roadblock, his skin is jaundiced, his eyes a bit sunken and hollow.

  "You saved a lot of farms by holding this position, I got to thank you." Randy extends his hand to the man who grasps it frailly. Sarge jerks the man in and spins him around, placing his 9mm to his head. The two men with him draw beads on the other two men at the roadblock.

  "Everyone in town says this roadblock got over run last night, they pulled back. What are you doing out here?" Randy asks sternly.

  "We were told to watch the roadblock, I live just down the road." Says the squirrelly man.

  "Oh, I do recognize you," says Sarge. "You live down by Hatcher Lane."

  "Yea, that's me, we're neighbors!"

  "You dumb shit, there is no Hatcher Lane. Cuff these three and let’s get going." He sends his last scout bike back to Boswell to let them know what's happened. Unfortunately, they probably don't have enough men to retake the roadblock.

  Lt Anders watches the three point take down from his truck. His jaw is agape. He has never seen true warfare from his desk in the Pentagon. The Pentagon probably would have pressed charges against the men now protecting him, for some type of protocol breach. Yet these men are doing their job, and doing it well. He regrets twenty years of pushing paper. Twenty years of his life lost doing nothing of importance.

  "We're rolling guys! Should be a straight shot to Shanksville from here. That's our last stop, then on home to Central City." The convoy pulls out and picks up speed.

  They pass a farmhouse on fire, fifty or more people are roasting a pig in the side yard, a dairy cow is being butchered in a field. Randy pushes on. It ain't right, but he is not the sheriff. They pass refugees walking the road, some with nothing, some with backpacks and pushing lawn carts. They pass a few more farms that have obviously been over run or abandoned. As they get closer to Shanksville there are less farms in distress, more farms being protected. Barricades have been set, firing positions made. Randy notices the glint of blue metal coming from haylofts and attics. These people are aware of the lawlessness that is approaching.

  They clear the Shanksville roadblock and reiterate the CB instructions, their plans to establish communications. Their Police Chief has taken charge of a small citizen’s militia. Randy and Lt Anders talk with him for a bit. Randy radios back to Central City and gets Jerry on the CB. After a short conversation, Jerry agrees to send men and arms to Shanksville pending Colonel Fisher’s approval.

  “Colonel Fisher?” Randy responds questioningly.

  “That’s Right Captain Hutchins, Captain Devers, out,” is the response Randy gets with the termination of communications.

  Randy looks at the CB transmitter as if where a foreign object before turning to the chief. He tells him they tell him they will try to get him help, he does not have the manpower to stop what is heading his way.

  Shortly later they roll up on the hidden roadblock at Route 160, turn north, and head back to the VFW. A well-armed farm truck and a tractor with a trailer full of men and woman pass them, heading towards Shanksville. Randy smiles at seeing the relief heading out to their neighboring community.

  * * *

  A sharp eye watches Top, now Col Fisher, at the VFW as Lt Anders' team arrives. The place is more active than usual. Teams are being set up to aid the overrun farming communities. Stocks of weapons and ammunition taken from the Wagerlys' are being issued. Farm trucks are being sand bagged, and topped off at the local gas station using a modified hand pump. The trucks are also being rigged into what the Commander would call a technical. Two more trucks are being set up as ambulances. More farm tractors with trailers are being sandbagged and set up as transport units. 'They have learned to move for combat and relief operations, that is good,' the Commander says to himself.

  The steely-eyed Commander sits at a picnic table in the VFW pavilion, watching the seemingly haphazard commotion. To his trained eye, he sees a determined group, heading out for combat. He takes a sip from his mason jar of clear Appalachian moonshine and smiles. He watches as the one legged man gathers the various leaders and gives them instructions. He is not yelling orders, he is explaining, even teaching. 'He is a good man,' the commander thinks, this new 'General'.

  The Commander smiles again as he takes another sip from his jar and lights a rolled cigarette. He chuckles as the General sits for a break, lighting a smoke too, trying to hide the pain from his amputated leg. Two women rush to his side, a stout black woman, and a beautiful mixed race woman. Most people would take the woman as white, but the Commander's sharp eye sees the exotic beauty of an interracial woman. They tend to him, a doting nurse and a loving wife. 'This is good to see,' thinks the Commander. 'I must make sure to meet this man.' He takes one last sip from his jar and reclines for a nap on the bench, the aching pain in his chest is growing, he needs some rest.

  * *
*

  Mark is furious. After hearing about the situation in Davidsville, he took no dissension from his family about going to town. He knows the farms of the Davidsville area. He knows the people, goes to church with many of them. The farms are the most productive farms around. If those farms are lost, the community's ability to survive, let alone help those in need, may be lost too.

  Two hours earlier, Mark had met with the town leaders, the six of them that could be rounded up on short notice. Hobbling around on crutches he made a compassionate argument to the town leaders.

  "We are blessed here. We saw the threat early and got set up. We have food and have used it to our strength, recruiting people to help us in return for food and safety. The Flight 93 rescue was a blessing in disguise, it brought us more skilled people that have helped us immensely. Yes, it brought us problems, but they are being dealt with, mainly by their own people. We provided them with the resources they needed, food, water, and shelter and they are recovering. In return we have a large group of healthy, dedicated and reliable people.

  "I met with Cy Yoder today, he came out to my farm. He also says food is not the problem, so long as we do it right, coordinate, get manpower to the farms, find a way to deliver it to those who need it. But, we can't let marauders from the city over run our neighbors. If they are in Davidsville now, how long will it take for them to get here? Those farmers' herds will get eaten or die from lack of food and proper care. These city folk, they probably would be good farm hands, but do they know how to milk a cow? How to breed a cow? Which pigs to slaughter, which pigs to let have litters? Do you think they have any idea about plowing and planting a field of corn, wheat, or potatoes?

  "You offered me the position of General. In that capacity, I recommend we help our neighbors. We will offer room and board for work to the refugees, and we will offer peace to those who have over run the farms. But, if they do not relinquish ownership to the men and women who have built and run those farms, we will use force to reclaim the property that the marauders have taken.

  "We can stay here, and try to protect our small mountain community. But that won’t last long. We are united, we are strong, for a reason. It is my belief that reason is to help others, our neighbors.

  "My church, Hoffman Evangelical Church, is in Davidsville. Those people are the most gracious, loving and serving people in the world. The aid station they set up got run over and looted. Members of my church had been helping the needy, giving what they had freely. Then they got over run by the takers coming out of the city. These are the reports we are getting back from our patrols. With the permission of you all, I will send out our men to offer aid and refuge to those willing to help. But, more importantly, we will assist in reclaiming our neighbors’ farms and communities from those who have over run them."

  During his passionate plea for them to help their neighbors, to 'love their neighbors', Mark's leg has started to bleed again.

  "I need to excuse myself so my nurse can tend to this damn leg. Deliberate without me please. Let me know of your decision. I'll be back in about twenty minutes. I'll abide by your decision" He hobbles off to an anterior room, trailing drops of blood from his bandaged stump.

  Fifteen minutes later, Reverend Wysinger, the mayor, and the Doctor representing the refugees, walk into the side office where Mark has been laid down with his stump leg elevated. Niki is wrapping the gruesome but freshly cleaned wound. The bare stump is ugly, but clean. The new bleeding has been stopped. Becca's eyes are watery as she helps Niki with the new bandage.

  The doctor speaks first. "You went out of your way to help us, there is no way I could say no to helping others." She hugs the man who literally saved her from the hell that the Flight 93 memorial had become."

  Reverend Wysinger speaks up. "The vote was seven to two in favor of helping Davidsville."

  "Seven to two out of six?" Says Mark.

  "Three more arrived as we talked about it. It would have been five to one. I will not tell you who dissented, so don’t even ask."

  Mark chuckles at that, "Don't make me laugh, it hurts to laugh! I don’t care who dissented, I'm glad some dissented. We don’t want groupthink."

  "Okay!" Mark says with enthusiasm. "Becca, Niki, get this thing wrapped up, we got people to save, farms to rescue. We can't let good people get over run by these marauders. Ouch! Damn, woman, be careful, that's tender!"

  Becca steps away, knowing she hates what is going on. She has to think, to process. God has blessed her with a good man. But, she hates what has happened. She hates God for allowing it to happen. She hates God for the harm it has caused her and her family. She hates God even more so, because she knows she has to let Mark go, to do what God has intended for him.

  She finds a quiet corner. She silently prays for forgiveness and understanding. She prays for her husband too. Weeping, she collapses into the chair, exhausted from the burden laid on her shoulders.

  Chapter 27, The Commune

  Johnstown

  September 20th - 22nd

  A tall, heavy man with bright eyes and a keen ability to read people, to take advantage of people in distress, looks around his neighborhood and senses the fear and vulnerability that his neighbors exude. David Jones, with his keen mind, is a man who never seemed to live up to his potential. He sees the futility of staying in the city. Fighting the ruthless gangs for the scraps of food still left in town will not work for long. It has been just over a week since the attack, and he knows it is time to move out, to the countryside, where there are farms, and food. But, he needs people to go with him, willing to follow him. His small group will not be able to move into the countryside and claim farms. He knows that. He needs more people.

  David is an active member of a local church, holds a seat on the school board and is a well-known as a citizen’s activist, grabbing headlines whenever he can. He begins to spread the message of a promised land, full of milk and honey. Best of all it is only ten miles away. They just need to follow him, he will lead them all to food and safety. He has studied history and social movements. He knows desperate people will fall in line if you offer them what they need. What they need is food. If he can promise them food, they will follow him.

  He sends out a few of his followers to spread the message of a great migration. "Like Joshua crossing the Jordan, we will take the land that rightfully belongs to us. Why should the farmers have all the land and all the food? We will set up a new Eden where all are treated equally, where food will be shared, where all will belong to one and where one will belong to all!" He proclaims.

  Meanwhile, he takes his group's biggest working vehicle, a hippie era VW van, and heads up 403 to Davidsville. He passes through a few checkpoints, claiming he wants to bring some refugees from the city to the area. He is directed to Hoffman Evangelical Church, where he is welcomed and they agree to be ready to take on his group of a couple of dozen people. He takes a winding way back home eyeing prosperous farms along the way, his mouth watering as he envisions all this land as his new kingdom.

  He spots a small herd of cattle close to the road. He has an experienced hunter with him. They shoot and quickly field dress a cow. The farmer comes after them as they are hauling the carcass into the back of the van. Spinning gravel, the van speeds away, avoiding the checkpoints because they are on the back roads. They blow through the Ben's Creek checkpoint causing much agitation to the people there.

  Once back in Johnstown, he has the cow butchered and cooked. People begin flocking to him. The promise of food is enough to bring out many just looking to survive, to feed their children. The biblical nuances encourage them even more; a new Eden, a promised land! His veiled talk of communism is lost on them in their desperation for a leader offering hope.

  David is amazed at the results of his message. The next morning, hundreds of people are surrounding his home. The makeshift kitchen they set up to cook the cow is feeding people as fast as they can. He orders his men to have the refugees overflow into Roxbury Park. He sees mo
re people streaming in; families, individuals, men, women, black, white. Some come heavily loaded with garden carts, wagons, and travois, carrying their possessions. Some come completely empty handed.

  More importantly, some come armed, and they are the ones David knows he needs. The farmers will not just walk away. But, if he can provide his new followers with food, the hoard will follow him, obey him. And the armed men and women in the crowd will be his army. But he must bide his time, allow for allegiances to be made.

  David steps onto his front porch to address the growing crowd. "Welcome all you people seeking fairness, seeking justice, and most importantly, seeking your right to food!" Cheers go up. "God has punished this nation for being greedy. He has punished us because some want more than others, because some won't share with others." More cheers.

  "There are people ten miles from here with plenty of food, with land, with homes, and we are here starving to death, our children starve, our wives starve. We are pursued by thugs, while they live in peace. We have no hope, yet they have land and food. This is not right. This is not fair!" He shouts the last words, which are followed by more cheers, egged on by his own followers.

  "We are going to march on these elitists with all the food and all the land. They want to keep it for themselves, we only wish for the food and the land to be shared. We are America! Where everything belongs to all of us! We are entitled to it!" More cheers, the crowd desperately wanting a leader, someone with an answer.

  "We will take the farms, we will take the land, we will take the food, for the good of the community! For the good of America!" The crowd has now been worked into a frenzy, and the cheers can be heard up and down the valley.

  Less than an hour later, the mass of people starts moving up Route 403 towards Davidsville and the lush countryside. Twenty-four hours later, Davidsville and the surrounding farms have been over run, cattle are being slaughtered, roasting pits are cooking food for the desperate people. To them, David is Joshua, leading them to the Promised Land. In their hunger, in their desperate state, no concern is given to the farmers and home owners driven off their lands. They have found safety and food, they are sharing rightfully sharing God’s bounty.