by Crane, J. J.
They looked at me with bewildered expressions.
“You have help on either side of you,” I said with reassurance. “I will get someone else out here to help as soon as I can. For now, hold this spot. You’ll know when to fire.”
They nodded. Without any further word, I darted out from our cover back towards the RV. My heart pounded waiting to hear gunfire, thankfully none occurred.
I then headed towards Max and Beth who held a position behind one of my sheds. I could see their astonished faces as I came diving in, not a gunshot sounding.
“Whatcha doing there Saving Private Ryan?” Max asked. “I would have bet five bucks you didn’t make that run.”
“Trying to make sure we win this Omaha Beach scenario,” I said. “And when this is over, you can give me that five dollars.” I scanned the woods, my eyes darting all over. “What can you see?”
“They are deep. Some pulled back a hundred feet or so beyond the barriers. I can only imagine they are reloading for another assault,” Max said. “Shotgun fire isn’t going to be overly effective at that distance. They have some rifles, but it doesn’t appear like they have a lot.”
“Understood. Any idea how many?” I asked.
“Twenty maybe… not sure, but enough,” Max answered then looked to Beth who agreed with the assessment.
“Okay,” I acknowledged. “How are you on ammo?”
“We have enough for two more volleys, but that’s it. As it is, I’m shooting conservatively.” Max answered.
I understood. They needed more ammunition. “I need to assess everyone else’s ammo situation.”
“Probably the same as ours,” Max said. “There were a lot of itchy trigger fingers in the beginning.”
“Everyone will need more if we want to make sure we repulse these guys,” I said.
I scanned the landscape leading towards Pops’ yard. In normal times, I loved the spaciousness of our yards, the pockmarked grouping of trees. Now, the gaps between fortifications and trees reminded me of the no man’s lands we learned about when studying World War I.
“I’m going to check Pops’ yard out,” I said.
“Hey! Before you go,” Max said. “Why don’t you collect ammo and weapons for us. If we can control this line, maybe Pops and the rest over there won’t need as much.”
The Road
Jason led Maya, Curtis, and a badly limping Emma along the shoulder of the road. He signaled for them to quickly get behind the cars of the upcoming car fortification closest to the neighborhood.
“What do you see?” asked Curtis, taking position behind one of the beat-up police cars from the Lasker gang.
“I thought I spotted a group of guys. They seemed to be acting as an endpoint to their formation,” Jason said.
“I haven’t seen much of anything going on,” Maya said. “Hearing lots of gunfire but not much in bodies.”
“I thought I counted like five or six… about twenty yards in,” Jason said as he peered over the police car looking into the woods.
Curtis looked in the same direction as Jason. “I can’t see much. Anyway, what do you have in mind?”
Jason turned to Curtis, his eyes cold, expression stoic. “We’re going to kill them.”
Curtis absorbed the merciless tone in which he said it.
Jason turned his attention to Emma who leaned against the
furthest car from him. Her eyes rolled, trying to stay awake. Little moans sprung forth like a child with a heavy fever.
“She needs Doc before it’s too late,” Jason said, his expression changing towards concern and worry. “Emma, sweetheart, can you hear me?”
Emma opened her eyes. A glaze pasted over them. Her capillaries bulged with red. “I hear you.”
“You have to hang on a little longer,” Jason cooed. “We’ll get you to Doc, real soon. He’ll patch you up.”
“I’m fine. I can help,” she slurred.
They all glanced at her blood-soaked pants. The bandage Curtis applied had long since become nothing more than a sopping cloth. Blood smeared on the road where she sat. All of them wondered if she would even make it to see Doc.
Jason kneeled next to her and gently brushed her dark hair away from her eyes. He looked to Curtis. “She needs a tourniquet of some kind.”
Without thinking, Curtis took off his outer layer sweater and handed it to Jason.
Jason did the best he could to tie the sweater around her blood soaked leg. “I need a solid stick.”
Maya spotted one just off the shoulder as if a gift from God and handed it to Jason.
Jason fashioned it above the wound and turned it.
Emma winced.
“You rest. Keep watch. We need you. Tighten this as best you can then let go for a minute and repeat. Got it?”
Emma nodded.
Jason turned to Maya and Curtis. “Let’s get a count. We’ll find suitable cover then we’ll kill these bastards.”
“As easy as that?” Maya questioned.
Jason didn’t take kindly to the remark. “You want to make it harder?”
Maya shook her head.
The three of them peered over the car that was angled to the woods. They could see movement, most occurred off in the distance, well out of shotgun range.
“There,” Curtis said, pointing towards a grouping of birch trees in the woods that aligned with Jason’s yard. “It looks like five… they might try some kind of end around.”
“They are close to the barrier,” Maya said.
“And seemingly going undetected,” Jason added. “If they make it around that end, they can sneak up on our line and kill quite a few before even taking on any fire.”
“We have to stop that,” Curtis said.
“We aren’t in an effective kill range,” Jason said. “If we can nudge closer, get into the first layer of the tree line, undetected, we can definitely put an end to their plans.”
“I don’t know,” Maya said.
Curtis saw the fear in Maya’s expression. “Hey, it’s them or us. We keep low. The gunfire in the woods will drown out any we make. They don’t see us. They are concentrating on what they have to do. Keep low, get behind the first tree you can, and we’ll take it from there.”
Maya said she understood.
“Okay. Let’s do this now,” Jason said, getting down low, creeping out from behind the car then scooting his way to the shoulder and sliding into the woods.
Curtis took Maya by the hand and gave her a tug before letting go. The two of them scrunched as low to the ground as they could and quickly scrambled their way into the tree line. Maya stopping at the first one she came to not ten feet in, Curtis a little further and Jason, several trees in.
Curtis saw Jason hold up five fingers and point. The men held steady about ten feet from the barrier. It seemed they were scouting their next move.
Curtis turned to Maya. She had an arrow in place ready to go. She nodded to Curtis. Curtis turned back to Jason who saw what Maya was up to, gave a thumbs up and aligned his shotgun. Curtis turned again to Maya and pointed.
Maya let the arrow fly. It drilled into the upper right shoulder of one of the intruders who shrieked in pain. He whipped himself around more on instinct than anything else, then caught a direct blast to the abdomen from the shotgun fire that immediately followed.
Curtis fired three rounds as did Jason. The men fell to the ground, several looking as if the hits were fatal.
When no immediate return fire ensued, Jason sprang from behind his tree and charged the men. Curtis followed but more cautiously.
When Jason came to the gathering of intruders, he noticed two were dead, the man with the arrow and another whose face was ripped apart. The other three writhed on the ground in pain.
“Please...” one of the men pleaded. “I have a wife and kids.”
“Get up!” Jason barked.
Curtis arrived on the scene and took a position behind a tree. Gunfire from the forest picked up once again, but n
one miraculously came their way.
“Gather their weapons,” Jason ordered. “You three, up, or die right here.”
With no hesitation, the three men staggered to stand. By the amount of blood they all displayed, Jason and Curtis’ knew they fired true.
“What are we going to do with them?” Curtis asked.
“Prisoners,” Jason said. “We’ll see who sings first.” He unsheathed his bowie knife and pointed the tip at the man closest to him. “I’ll cut them all to death if they don’t start ponying up some details.”
One of the men burst into tears. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Smart choice,” Jason said.
Pops’ Yard
“I can’t see what’s happening real well,” Pops said to both Jean and Bo from their vantage point of a large stacked woodpile near the rear edge of his backyard and woods.
Bo made a miraculous recovery, especially over the previous ten days. Some of his motor skills were slow, and he did display lapses in making proper decisions. Pam noticed one night he tried eating soup with a fork. One day I saw he had sneakers on the wrong feet. Bo complained they felt funny. Aside from little things like that, he functioned normally.
“I can check out how Paul and Tony (Katie’s father) are doing,” Bo said. “See if they have a better line of sight.”
“No,” Pops said. “So far, the fighting has mostly been by Rob and Casey’s house. I’m sure they will try to flush the enemy out into that open section they designed. That Funnel area.”
“We’ll have their flanks then, right?” Bo asked.
“That’s right,” Jean said. “We haven’t fired much at all, so we are pretty well supplied to help them out when those people get near there.”
Pops glanced to his low concrete wall patio border where Paul and Tony stationed themselves. Paul was flashing fingers.
“What’s he saying?” Pops asked.
“I think he’s signaling a number,” Jean said.
“The radio,” Bo said. “Five. Channel five is what he must mean.”
“Got it,” Pops said then took his walkie-talkie and turned to channel five before giving a thumbs up.
“Just got word that the enemy is moving towards our area,” Paul said over the walkie-talkie. “Let’s get ready.”
“Roger that,” Pops said. No sooner did he say his words then gunfire erupted.
Knowles’ Yard
I managed to get Kenny K, Casey’s grandson of eighteen (he hated the moniker, Junior) to help June and Betty with the sniper fire from the second floor. It turned out from the hunting expeditions that he was quite the natural shot. He bagged several deer with single shot efforts at distances of seventy- five to ninety yards.
“I want you to yell as you go up the stairs announcing who you are,” I instructed Kenny K. “I radioed that you were coming but better safe than sorry. I have to grab weapons and ammo. You help keep those bastards pinned down… got it?”
He said he did, turned and ran towards the stairs yelling his name.
I broke for the basement where we kept the weapons and ammo. As soon as I turned on the battery operated lantern in the back room where the guns and ammo were, I smiled. Right in front of me were the AR-15’s. Six of them. After the Lasker confrontation, we made sure to have full magazines ready to go. Each weapon had one loaded and ten more in a small bag next to it on the rack. I grabbed an extra box of ammo for each bag as insurance.
Grabbing three AR-15’s, I called for June or Betty to meet me at the basement door.
“What for?” June asked.
“I have something that will make your life a lot easier,” I said.
Upon the transfer, June kissed me, winked, and took off upstairs with the weapons. “Be safe out there,” she yelled.
I ran back downstairs and stuffed a gym bag full of shotgun shells (all kinds, wasn’t paying particular attention to exacts), .308, 30-06, 30-30, for the rifles and 9mm for the handguns.
As soon as I exited my house, I heard someone from the woods call out, “Now!”
Nearly twenty of their men moved at once while others opened up a heavy round of firing as cover. Bullets dinged off my house, the RV, the shed. Splinters of wood kicked up around the wood piles as their barrage unfolded.
The attackers traveled along the thinning defensive fortifications that led into the funnel. At first, it appeared daunting to see so many figures move through the woods towards us at one time.
Most of the enemy advanced a good fifty feet before I heard something odd, rapid gunfire. I looked up towards the second floor of my house; Betty, Kenny, and June started firing the AR-15’s we retrieved. In a twisted way, the concussive feel and sound of those bullets firing was like sweet music.
Gunfire soon erupted from the firepit and Pops’ yard. Their angle of fire quickly helped bring the invaders progress to a grinding halt killing those out in front leading the way.
When the volley came to a lull, I took off for my shed that bordered the Kenderdine’s yard and mine. Grabbing Casey’s attention, I said, “I need three of you to move into my yard. You, Peter, and Sarah, unless you have something else in mind. The enemy has moved further into my property area, and we could use more help. I’ve got ammo for everyone, but I need people over here, now. If the fighting shifts, we’ll redo the lines.”
Without a second thought, the three I requested came over to me. I handed each an extra box of ammo for their weapon – two rifles and a shotgun – then directed them towards the woodpile that faced the funnel area. If someone could, I requested, then to move towards the RV.
Moving along the protected perimeter of my yard, I handed off ammo to Bruce and Stephanie. Each were getting to the last of their magazines.
I looked for Ted and Samantha. Last I knew they positioned themselves in the area I now stood.
“Ted and Samantha went and took a position behind his truck,” Bruce said.
Ted’s truck was parked in front of his RV. That positioning allowed him sightlines into the funnel.
Max then gave a whistle to catch my attention. He was at the woodpile I sent Casey, Sarah, and Peter too. I could tell he was signaling he needed more ammunition.
This time when I made my move for the woodpile, shots rang out from the forest. Pops’ side quickly answered once again squelching the enemy’s effort.
“You got some .308’s in there?” Max asked when I arrived, laying on the ground staring straight up at him.
“I do,” I answered and pulled out a box.
“Got one round and I need to reload,” he said, taking position firing the last shot then sitting back down, dropping the magazine, and quickly loading it.
“You got an extra magazine?” I asked.
“Already went through three,” he said then looked at his wife. “Beth, lay down the occasional shot while I fill two magazines. Then I’ll load yours.”
Without any delay, she positioned herself just above the wood pile and with easy precision fired one shot, waited about three seconds, fired another.
Return fire once again came our way. June, Betty, and Kenny K began another steady assault.
“Just a second baby, and you can reload,” I head Max say.
While organizing the ammunition bag, I felt slime splatter all over me. I grabbed at the thin film and chunks of glob then heard Max cry out.
“NO! Those fucking bastards!” he screamed.
Beth’s body fell on to Max. When she rolled off and dropped to the ground, I saw a gaping hole between her right eye and nose, all the flesh and bone missing.
I looked at Max. His jaw opened. A glaze formed over his eyes; the bloodshot capillaries swelling and becoming redder by the second. He grabbed his rifle and took out his pistol.
“Max, what are you doing?” I screamed. He gave me a dead-eye stare, hate seething through his turned in lips.
“No. Don’t do it,” I pleaded.
Max turned, jumped up from behind the woodpile and
began to charge, blasting away.
I screamed for immediate cover fire.
Before anyone could start giving cover, Max ran out into the open. He charged at the enemy firing off his rifle while holding it at waist level. He screamed in anger with each shot. Cover fire ensued in support. When his rifle emptied, he dropped and whipped out his pistol. Without missing a beat, he fired.
Max made it about thirty feet before the enemy’s return fire littered him with bullets. He fell face first into the ground making a thud I could feel vibrate underneath me.
The Road
“What do you mean more?” Jason growled into the prisoner’s face spraying spit all over.
“I mean there’s another car of men coming from the other side. If they aren’t already attacking they will be,” the man said as he trembled. “I just want to see my kids again. Please let that happen.”
“We’ll see,” Curtis replied pushing the barrel of his weapon into the man’s forehead. “If your information helps us to victory, you live. We begin to lose, you die.”
Maya held her handgun pointed at the prisoners. She noticed Emma teetering with consciousness. “Emma, you okay?”
“It hurts,” she replied, her voice soft.
“Can you move?” Jason asked as he flashed a glance her way. “Come on Emma. Kick its ass. Kick its ass. We need you kid.”
Emma smiled. She genuinely seemed to draw strength from his words. “Go,” she said, her voice rising. “Leave me here with a shotgun.” Emma had dropped hers at the truck.
“What?” Jason asked, stunned by her request.
“You know… like in the movies, when the person who is going to die and they give them the grenade to kill the bad guys when they arrive. Like that,” she said, her words slurring. Emma looked at her leg again. Streamlets of blood curved through the tiny crevices of asphalt on the road. “Go and leave me a gun,” she demanded. “The group needs you guys.”