Righteous Bloodshed: Righteous Survival EMP Saga, Book 2

by Timothy Van Sickel

  Zach has them stop at the Route 30 roadblock. The air feels thick, as if something is up. As he talks with the men there, he gets a sense of apprehension. But none of them have seen or heard anything specific. Zach looks forlornly to the east as he and his crew mount up and head further south, towards Somerset.

  The same scene plays out at the roadblock just north of the first Somerset interchange. But this time Sergeant Mostoller has a stately looking civilian woman and a seasoned soldier with her. Zach has an E-4 with him, lugging two ammo boxes.

  The civilian woman speaks first. "You must be Sergeant White. I am Mary Hodge. It is good to see you have returned as you said you would." No handshakes are exchanged as they stand ten feet apart.

  "I am a man of my word Ms. Hodge. Major Kerns of the United States Army Reserve, commanding officer at the Murtha airport, would like to establish friendly relations with you all. I am his emissary."

  "Is there a United States Army?" asks the soldier.

  "We think so, how about you?" Zach asks.

  "I swore an oath twenty-eight years ago. That oath still stands in my book."

  "And you have a civilian here with you, so no one has tried to establish some kind of dictatorship." Zach says, nodding at Ms. Hodge.

  "We are a patriotic community, Sergeant White. Sergeant Hay here, has organized our veterans and Guard unit into a militia. I represent our town council. Let's cut through the fancy talk and get down to business. What is going on, and how can you help us?"

  "The grid is down, you know that. It's not coming back on, you probably figured that out. We were in contact with Fort Indiantown Gap, but those communications have stopped. We have a HAM radio. What is going on here, it's not just local, it's nationwide. We all are probably on our own. So Major Kerns wants to establish relations with you, help you. Corporal, show them what we have."

  The E-4 opens the two ammunition cans. "Here are two thousand rounds of 5.56. There are two more cans in the truck for you. We want nothing in return except friendly relations."

  Sergeant Mostoller beams as she looks at the ammunition, then at the two people with her. She is shouldering her M16A2, not the varmint rifle she had yesterday. She walks forward and hugs Zach. She has broken the ice. They all converge and embrace. Information and stories start to fly.

  The Somerset people put down a brief spat of lawlessness. Since then, they have been steadily increasing their vigilance every day. The news about the chaos in Johnstown gives them concern. They have taken in a few refugees from the Flight 93 Memorial and know about the renegade's rampaging actions.

  Zach waves his Hummer forward and gives them another two thousand rounds of ammunition. He knows in his heart that he needs to tell these good people that his unit is going to abandon the airport soon. That this alliance will be short lived. They invite him into town. Despite wanting to get away, he sees Somerset as a place that needs to be treated with deference, so he goes with them, leaving his two over watch trucks behind.

  * * *

  As they pass through the small roadblock, Zach sees two quads set up as runners and a farm truck that his hosts load into for their ride back to town. His skilled eye picks out two more farm trucks tucked into the wood line. He estimates that there is over a dozen people at the roadblock. He only saw four, impressive.

  To his left and right he sees active farming going on, a heard of dairy cows being let out to pasture, a field of hay being mowed. Both farmers have armed guards with them. One is using a horse team to draw his equipment, the other a steady old Ford tractor. There are no abandoned cars on the highway. They are probably what where used for their roadblock.

  A flock of Canadian geese flies high overhead, honking as they go. The vee formation undulates but stays constant in its southern journey. They lower and circle a bay on Lake Somerset. Zach watches as they set their wings for a water landing. Fifty geese gently land on the smooth waters. From a well-hidden blind, three hunters unload on the geese. Two dogs immediately head into the cool still waters to retrieve the half dozen dead birds. The rest of the flock takes to flight, honking angrily.

  Zach and his new friends come into town, and again he notices that the streets have been cleared. The streets are busy with foot traffic, farm trucks, even horse drawn carts. They pass a shopping plaza parking lot that is full of tents and people, now a bartering centering. Further into town they see an aid station offering food and water. He notices a large detail up on a hill. Two dozen sheet wrapped bodies are laid out nearby as they dig their graves. He watches a farm truck turn up the lane towards the new graveyard, four shrouded bodies are in the bed of the truck.

  They have to slow down as they pass four large hogs being herded down the road by two teenaged girls. A stern faced man is walking with them, double barreled shotgun cradled in his arms, a .357 in his belt holster.

  To his left, Zach sees the burned out remains of a Giant Bird grocery store. A crew is picking through the remains, salvaging what they can. They travel another mile down the main road to the town center. The evidence of looting can be seen, broken windows at the liquor store and some restaurants, a burned out gas station. But the devastation is not widespread. Though the mood is grim, life goes on in an orderly manner in this small town.

  The truck with the Ms. Hodge and Sergeant Hay pulls into the old county courthouse parking lot. Zach has his driver park next to them.

  They pass one armed guard as they head into the impressive cut stone granite building. Inside, people are bustling. Zach and his driver are led into a large conference room where five other distinguished looking people sit.

  "This is Sergeant Zach White of the United States Army. He is here as an emissary of the Major in charge of the Murtha Airport," states Ms. Hodge proudly. Zach is dumbfounded by this introduction, like he represents some saving faction for this small town. He takes a deep breath.

  "Um, I'm not sure what you are expecting, so I will just speak from my heart. The John Murtha airport is secured for now, and we have brought you all some ammunition to help you keep your town secure. I am here on a scouting mission to see how things are. Your town is very well off compared to the other small towns we have seen." Zach gives them a rundown of what he has seen, and what he knows, including the chaos and fires that have engulfed Johnstown.

  Stoic faces stare back at him.

  An elderly man speaks up, "You say you had contact with Fort Indiantown Gap, are they going to send relief supplies?"

  "We don't know, we have not heard from them for three days."

  "Have you had any direction from the federal government since they flew out the VIPs?" asks a middle-aged woman

  "None what-so-ever that I have been told about."

  "What do you know of the people still at the Flight 93 Memorial? Certainly the feds would try and help them out," the woman asks.

  "We thought the same, but we have had no communications since we got the Secretaries of Defense and Homeland Security out with their cronies. I have heard of very bad things going on out that way. Bikers and anarchists literally killing and raping anyone on the road."

  "We have heard the same, from a few of those people who have made it here," responds Ms. Hodge.

  "As I have told you, the Johnstown area is in turmoil. Some of our soldiers are starting to sneak away, going AWOL. We have been able to keep the airport secure just by our defensive posture. But if we have to continue to fire on civilians to hold the area, the major will abandon the airport. He sees no reason to maintain our posture if there is no hope of relief coming."

  The elderly man speaks up, "If you abandon the airport, FEMA won’t have a place to set up, bring in supplies."

  "We know that. But we have heard nothing to the effect of FEMA or anyone else coming in. The few places we have heard of that FEMA got to, they have been over run or just cannot handle the crowds of desperate people. Basically, FEMA is not coming. No one is coming. We are on our own."

  The room grows silent.

  "So
why are you here?" Asks Ms. Hodge.

  "To find out what is going on. To make an alliance. To gather information so Major Kerns can make a rational decision." Zach starts to stutter a bit. How can he ask for an alliance if his party will not be in existence in a few days? 'God, give me words!' he thinks.

  "Maybe I'm just here to let you all know what is going on. Maybe a group from the airport may come down here and support you all. Maybe there are alliances to be formed that we don’t know about yet. Good people need to band together. You all seem like good people. The people in Davidsville are good people. The major is good people, as are those who showed up for duty, just like Sergeant Mostoller and Sergeant Hay. I can't tell you any more than that."

  Again the room goes silent. The men and woman exchange glances and a few nods.

  "We need to discuss what you have told us." Says the elderly man. "I don’t know what type of response your Major Kerns expects. We will give you a reply to send back to him. Give us some time to hash this over."

  Zach thanks them all and leaves with the two Somerset soldiers.

  * * *

  "That's a pretty grim picture," states Mostoller, as they sit on a bench outside of the courthouse.

  "I've fired on Iraqi hostiles," says Zach. "But last night some of our guys had to fire on Americans. We could justify it, if we knew aid was coming to the airport. But we are doubting that. You here are defending your homes and farms. We are defending eight thousand feet of concrete."

  "And a powder keg of ammunition too," remarks Hay. He stares intently at Zach.

  Zach can see that a plan is formulating in the older sergeant's head.

  "Mostoller, we're going to give Sergeant White here a tour of our enclave."

  "Zach, have your truck standby as we take you around town. We'll have you back in no more than two hours."

  Zach wants to be heading out of town soon, so he can try and get to Flight 93 and then on to Central City. But he senses he is here for a reason, and going with Sergeant Hay is the urgent course of action. A few minutes later Zach, Mostoller and Hay pull out into the mishmash of 'traffic' on Center Avenue then turn west onto Main Street.

  They head further west on Route 31. They pass a gas station pumping gas with a hand operated pump. Ten vehicles are in line, orderly waiting their turn. They pass another large parking lot with a swap meet in full operation. A few miles out of town is a salvage yard. Normally there would be a few people looking for used parts, today over a hundred people are swarming the old vehicles, scavenging parts.

  They continue west, passing a small control point. Fertile farmland covers the rolling hills. Dairy cows are grazing stoically, waiting to be brought in for their second milking. Beef cows lay in the sun. A tractor mows hay in a distant field. A mechanical combine harvests corn on a field right alongside the road.

  There is one thing he notices that makes reality sink in. Everyone is armed. There are armed men in the fields being harvested. The scavengers at the salvage yard where all armed. There were armed guards at the swap meet.

  * * *

  The Laurel Mountains start to loom ahead of them. The lush dark green forested highlands rise a thousand feet over the wide fertile valley. Large white clouds rush from the west to the east in the cool autumn breeze, contrasted against a brilliant blue sky.

  They slow down as they come up to a bridge crossing Laurel Hill Creek. A roadblock has been set up here, and an orderly passage of people and a few vehicles are being passed through in each direction. A small refugee camp can be seen a few hundred yards further west.

  "This is our western gate," states Sergeant Hay.

  Zach eyes up the area. He sees three uniformed men and a few locals. He figures twice as many are stationed in the woods. The weaponry is good but haphazard. Shot guns, hunting rifles, a few AR 15s of various quality, everyone carries a side arm. "You got a good sized stream to slow anyone down. The good farms are all protected. What about the resorts up in the mountains?"

  "We haven't had any problems with them. No one is there right now anyway. But if things are like you say, like we think, people from Pittsburgh will be trying to get there, and then this area could be trouble."

  "What do you have up on the turnpike?" Zach asks.

  "We're good up there too," Hay responds.

  They get in their truck and take a zigzagging path through some county roads and end up well south of Somerset on Route 271. A smaller roadblock is set up at a crossroad. Literally nothing is happening here, but the guards wave at them as they slow down before heading north, back towards Somerset.

  Sergeant Hay explains that once the small flair up of anarchy was squashed, the town leaders along with the Guard unit and local vets set up a wide area of protection. So many people are volunteering, that manpower has not been a problem. Feeding them was at first, but once word spread of the chaos along Route 30, the farmers were quite willing to offer up food for protection.

  As they head back in towards town, the sun is already starting to sink to the west. Zach is once again thinking of his family and wife. But here he is, twenty miles away, it might as well be a thousand miles. He wants to think this trip is wasted time, but he knows better. He has been shown a path. He just has to figure out how to walk that path.

  * * *

  Back at the County Courthouse, things are a stir. A few dirt bikes come and go quickly. Two farm trucks of well-armed people head off in one direction. Two more head off in another direction.

  Sergeant Hay quickly heads into the middle of the commotion. "What the hell is going on here?" He bellows.

  A stout man with a shaved head and long beard stops briefly. "Something happened out towards Flight 93. About mid-day we heard several big booms. Not gunshots, explosions. We sent some scouts out. They are reporting back that a convoy is hauling the refugees out towards Central City. They say the roads are clear, no signs of the anarchists. They reported other gunfire too, some pretty heavy, but it's all jumbled up. We're getting more scout reports back now. We doubled our crews on the eastern boundaries. We don't know what's going on, but it ain't getting in here!"

  Zach's mind is spinning as he hears this information. He looks at Sergeant Hay, his face is blank, but his eyes reveal a mind in action. "Someone has braved the chaos on Route 30 to rescue over a thousand stranded refugees. Whoever did that has balls of steel or knows what they hell they are doing. Or is just plain crazy," Hay says.

  "Mark Mays, my step dad did that," states Zach.

  "What do you mean?" Asks Sergeant Mostoller, wide eyed and confused.

  "I can't explain it. What you all got going on here, the safe zone, the militia, everyone helping out. It's going on in Central City too. I am sure of it. They are the ones who rescued the refugees at the Flight 93 Memorial. And trust me, Mark was involved, he is just that crazy and has the balls to try it."

  Zach feels a sense of wellbeing overcome him as he makes these statements. He knows that his family is safe. If there was chaos in Central City, they would not have gone to help the Flight 93 refugees. His confidence grows as he realizes God's plan, at least his part in it.

  "Sergeant Hay, get Ms. Hodge and any other of your council members here as soon as you can. We are going to cement this outreach program."

  Twenty minutes later a plan is laid in place and agreed upon. Mostoller, Hay and Ms. Hodge will go back to meet with Major Kerns with a well-armed four truck convoy and two scout bikes. If all goes well, they will be escorting precious cargo back to Somerset.

  Chapter 33, Over Run

  Murtha Airport

  September 18th

  The sun is fading as the group meets on a veranda overlooking the idle airport tarmac. They have been told not to use any lights, too many unknown elements moving around the area. Over fifty soldiers went AWOL today and the patrols have been diminished. There are crowds of angry people at both the east and west gates. Some are angry because they want food. Some are angry because their family and friends were killed the n
ight before. The scene around the airport is ugly. Tension hangs in the air. It took aggressive moves and threats just to enter the airport corridor.

  Major Kerns has been briefed by Sgt. White, and the other scout groups. He, his remaining officers and senior NCOs have determined they have to abandon the airport. There is no word of anyone coming to help them. They cannot justify defending eight thousand feet of useless concrete. With no other feasible options, plans are being made to regress as orderly as possible the next day.

  The major has agreed to meet with the Somerset contingent, and it is this group of people that watches the world go dark from the veranda for the sixth night in a row.

  "Major Kerns, these people need our help, deserve our help," Zach states definitively. "As I told you, I have seen what they have set up already, an orderly system with civilian control. Ms. Hodge here can testify to that. They also have instituted a militia. Sergeants Hay and Mostoller can attest to that. Sir they are ill armed. They have access to the Friedens armory and its weapons, but they have no ammunition.

  "Sir, I helped unload that cargo plane. We can't let that fall into just anyone's hands. I am all on board for our security groups that are going to head out tomorrow, but we cannot carry that much ammunition out of here. I want you to consider having this group take what we cannot. Again, we can't let those ravaging bands of anarchists or other unknown militants get what is now stored here."

  The major eyes up the group. He begins questioning the younger sergeant. Then he moves onto a polite but pointed questioning of Ms. Hodge. Finally he gives a thorough test to Sergeant Hay, questioning manpower, food sources, chain of command, protocols, civilian oversight, transportation, refugee relief. Sergeant Hay answers honestly. He would not have risen to E-8 without having integrity. He does not have all the answers, but they have plans, and he defers to Ms. Hodge when appropriate.

  The major, tired, overworked and overwhelmed, actually brightens a bit on hearing all the Somerset emissaries have to say. He asks that they all meet at the 556th Engineers' armory in an hour. Zach has one of his men escort the Somerset people to the armory while he heads out to establish his security patrol, the people he will take with him from the airport, the people that he will try to take to Central City and on to the farmstead.