Chasing the Dark: The Demon Inside

by A. P. Texan

  “Chase, was that you?” Nick asks over the radio.

  “Asshole took a shot at me. He has me pinned down on the road about a hundred yards from our exit.” I reply.

  “Okay, be there in two mikes” he responds; mikes being military slang for minutes.

  “Copy, I look forward to it.” I take a quick glance around the back of my improvised cover and see them slowly advancing on my position.

  Knowing I can’t get the carbine around to take a shot without exposing myself; I draw my pistol and with just it and my hand exposed I pop off a couple of rounds to keep them occupied. This tactic, that works so often in Hollywood, totally backfires on me and the big hunting rifle booms again. This time kicking up dirt only a few inches from my hand.

  Just then, I hear the distinct sound of two AR rifles going off, almost simultaneously.

  “Clear” Nick says.

  “Clear” comes from Bob.

  “Thank God you guys showed. That guy was a decent shot and would have had me pretty quick.”

  Charles comes pulling up on the Kawasaki side by side that Nick and Bob had brought from the barn.

  “What do you think their stories are?” I ask the group

  “Starving, desperate refugees, “Charles responds. “They were taking a shot at the cattle; my guess is they assumed the farm was abandoned and wanted the meat. Bad news is that Fat Bastard (our herd bull) was hit. Clean head shot, dropped him right where he stood.”

  The four of us walk over to where the two men are laying perfect head shots, dropping them where they stood. I pick up the rifle and look it over; it is a pretty nice Remington 700 chambered in .30-06, with a Leupold 3-9x40 optic on it. Obviously, a hunter’s rifle and not a weapon of survival. The .30-06 round only good for two things: taking out big game and human lives. Both men are dirty, in old threadbare hunting clothes that hung loosely on their emaciated frames.

  “Well, this sucks all the way around.” I say aloud.

  “How’s that?” Nick asks.

  “We have lost our herd bull just in time for mating season for one.” Bob replies.

  “More than that,” I say, “as bad as that is this is worse,” I point down to the two men. “These men are obviously out looking for food. Most likely for their families. Whom they can no longer protect. Look at the condition of their rifle and the quality of their clothes. That rifle and scope combo is an easy grand new. Although the clothes are dirty and worn out, those are expensive name brand hunting clothes. Which tells me these men are experienced hunters. I know for a fact he was a good shot because he missed my hand by mere inches when that was the only part of me that was exposed. Yet, they chose to come down here and shoot at our cattle. Do any of you recognize them? I don’t which means they aren’t from the surrounding farms. There is a ninety percent chance they aren’t from Pilgrimage or Boyd, so where did they come from? I am guessing they traveled several miles to get here looking for game the whole time. Six months ago, this whole area was teaming with deer and hog, not to mention turkey and squirrel. So why did these guys have to travel this far looking for game, to feed their families?”

  “You’re right”, Charles says. “We have destroyed some families only means of protect and feeding themselves. On top of that, where did all the wildlife go?”

  “Yeah, I see your point.” Bob says, kneeling down to the bodies and patting down the man that had the rifle. “This is all he’s got”, as he pulls four .30-06 rounds from the man’s pocket as well as a baggie with a few small pieces of Jerky.

  “Alright guys, help me load up the bodies and head back. This is worrying me”, I say to the other guys.

  Within a few minutes we see the barn, as we start coming around the bend in the gravel road. The rest of our group is standing around watching waiting to hear what is going on.

  As we climb out of the side by sides, I hold up my hands before the questions can even start to come in.

  “We got bad news and some disturbing turn of events.” I say to the gathered group. “First; the bad news, Roger, Eddie, Calvin, and I need you guys to take the tractor and one of the trucks down to the South Pasture. Fat Bastard is dead. We need to get him back here and start getting the meat processed as quickly as we can. The disturbing turn of events, the starving and desperate are encroaching on us. We are still fairly good on food and we have plenty of clean water. Unfortunately, those around us aren’t fairing so well.”

  After another ten minutes, we explain the situation, and everyone has come to the same conclusions that we have.

  “As for the three bodies, we need to do something with them. Seeing as they were starving and desperate, I don’t see any reason to leave them to the buzzards and coyotes; but I don’t know that we need to expend the energy or the diesel to dig graves.” I say, “Personally I vote for a funeral pyre.”

  “Agreed, girls take one of the 4-wheelers and go collect as much wood as you can. We don’t want to use our cut firewood, but anything else you see laying around is good.” She says, turns to my girls giving directions.

  “Charles, grab a chainsaw and go with them. There is a dead live oak at the top of the Northwest Pasture on the edge of the tree line. Cut that down, as well as you can with that and whatever scrap you find it should be enough. Take your AR with you and keep your eyes open as well.” I say to my son.

  Within minutes everyone is scattering to handle their different tasks, and I am left alone with my thoughts; my wonderful bride, wrapping her arms around my waist and looking up into my eyes.

  “What troubles you, My Love?” She asks tenderly.

  “Several things”, I reply. “First, where are we going to get another bull? The girls will be in season soon and we have no one to take care of their needs. Two, where did all the game go, and three where are our middle eastern friends, and what are they up to? Not to mention, the fact I am down to my last carton of smokes and they are basic 100s full flavor, which are beyond nasty.”

  “So, what you're saying is you need a cigarette and you’re afraid of thirty 2000-pound horny women, who can’t get laid.” She says with a grin and a slight giggle.

  “Yeah, I would say that sums it up.” I give her a hug and a big smile.” I love you babe.”

  “I heard Charles mention, he saw a good size bull at a big ranch house on your way back from Pilgrimage. He said, it was just grazing along the fence. It caught his eye because the house looked abandoned.” She says, as we are walking towards the cabin.

  I bring my radio up and key the push to talk button. “Charles, Sandy said you mentioned seeing a bull at an abandoned farm on our trip back from Pilgrimage.”

  “Yeah, sorry I didn’t mention it. Actually, I totally forgot about it with everything else going on. That large white with red brick ranch house, that sits back from the road a hundred yards or so. It was along the fence grazing aimlessly. Like I said, it caught my eye because, I thought that house was abandoned.”

  “Hmm, okay let’s add that into our to do list.” I reply “Chase Out.”

  1900 hours 14 March 2022

  The Farm

  As we are all gathered around finishing up our evening meal of pork stew, we are discussing the day’s events and our activities for the following day.

  “Early tomorrow, we need to hook up the trailer and head over to the Smiths’ place.” Says Calvin “I want to check on them, it is strange that Charles said the house appeared abandoned. That family has owned that property for sixty years. Old man Smith passed about a year ago at eighty-five years old and his son and family took the place over. Really nice people and a great piece of property. Five hundred acres with the Pilgrimage tributary running through the back hundred acres. The house is a fairly new addition; the old farmhouse set about half a mile back and you couldn’t see it from the road. Sam said when he took the place over, after his father passed that the old house had to many memories for him; so, he had it removed and built the new place.”

  “If they did leave, we need
to gather all their livestock. Between our place and Jimmy, we should have the room for them and there is no reason to let a hundred head of good beef just stay there. Besides, we really need Old Jack since Fat Bastard is gone.” Kerri adds.

  “Nick and I were planning on leaving tomorrow to go scout out the outside world and see how everyone is faring; but I think first we need to get the cattle moved and check out what’s going on in our own neighborhood. What do you think Nick?” I add.

  “Agreed, this whole new set of circumstances adds a whole new dynamic to everything, and we need to get all this in order before we go looking for more trouble.” He replies.

  “Calvin, you are the expert here, so you tell us what we need to do.” Roger pipes up.

  “Our trailer will hold six head at a time. The problem is, I don’t think we have a truck that will haul more than two”, Calvin responds.

  “What about the MTV?” Nick asks between bites of stew.

  “What?” Calvin asks, incredulous look on his face.

  “The M1083. It is known as the M1083 MTV or Medium Tactical Vehicle.” Nick explains, “it has a payload capacity of around 15,000 pounds.”

  “Well, that is going to depend. Does it have a ball hitch or a pintle hitch? Is the hitch going to be low enough to mount to the trailer? There is a lot of variables.” Calvin continues.

  “I’m pretty sure it has a pintle hitch, but it should be low enough. Do we have some way of attaching a ball to it?” I ask.

  “They have pintle hitch adapters, but I don’t have one and I honestly don’t know where we could find one”, Calvin says.

  “Calvin, you’re getting senile in your old age”, Kerri says. She is walking back up to the group. “We just had a hitch attached to the tractor last year, to pull the trailer around the farm.”

  “First thing in the morning, we will hook up the trailer and load up. We will need to take the side by sides and one of the trucks. Use the side by sides to herd them to the chutes and then load them up. Any feed they have on site, we can load up and bring back here. All of that is dependent of course, upon the house being abandoned.” Calvin says.

  “Sounds like we are going to need all hands on deck in the morning. Cynthia and Elizabeth pack some medical gear, if anybody is there, they may need your help. Charles, Nick Roger, Eddie and Robert full loadouts. Roger and Eddie, Nick will help you get squared away at the armory before we leave. Everyone else, pack what you think you will need for a day working on the farm. Mom, you're staying here, but we would appreciate it if you could get us some lunches ready.” I say to the group, while I stand and take my plate to the wash area.

  After giving assignments; I wash my dishes in the cut down fifety-five-gallon drum of hot water and some bleach we keep sitting on some bricks with a fire going underneath it. Next to this, we have another drum of just plain clean water we use to rinse. Then we have a drying rack we put together from some lumber that holds all our dishes. When not being used we have a large drop cloth, we drape over all the clean dishes to keep the dirt and dust off them.

  I wait for my bride, then hand in hand we head to the cabin; to get some well needed and deserved sleep.

  0600 15 March 2022

  The Farm

  With the trailer hooked up to the tractor, all our vehicles topped off with fuel (which is running dangerously low); we are ready to roll out. The caravan of vehicles makes its way towards the main road; unfortunately, because of the size of the tractor and trailer there is no way to go around our little barricade of trees, so Calvin and I went down with the tractor early this morning before the rest of the group was ready and with the help of the tractor and some chains, we were able to move the trees out of the way enough to squeeze through.

  The Smith place is about three miles down the road and two miles outside of Pilgrimage, well the ruins of the little community anyways. In just a few minutes, we are pulling up to the drive that leads up to the large two-story farmhouse. The house sits about a hundred yards back from the road and it does look empty. The grass and weeds have overtaken, what was once a pristine manicured lawn, the house itself appears to be boarded up and there is trash and debris scattered all over the place. I can see why Charles would say it looked abandoned; I see no sign of habitation in at least the last couple months. If I was to guess, I would say there hasn’t been anyone here since week one or two after the event.

  As we start getting closer though things don’t seem right. I can’t really describe it but there is something in the air. Just as I have that thought the wind shifts directions and I start to gag. The smell is nauseating, it is like if you open a refrigerator full of rotten meat. Looking around I see everyone else is suffering from the same revulsion I am. All of us stop our vehicles and cover our nose and mouths. Climbing out of the Kubota side by side and getting my pack from the utility bed I dig down into the bottom and find what I’m searching for. My 3M half face respirator with two grey and pink N100 filters already in place. Slipping it on and checking the seal; I take a deep breath of the filtered air and breathe a sigh of relief, as the foul stench is no longer assaulting my senses. I unsling my AR and place it in the utility bed next to my bag and Springfield then make sure my pistol is clear in its holster. I know while wearing this respirator getting a good sight picture with the carbine and making accurate shots is next to impossible; so, I would rather just have my pistol and be able to make accurate shots than carry the carbine and just waste ammo.

  Looking around I see Cynthia and Elizabeth passing around Vicks VapoRub for everyone to apply beneath their nostrils, to help with the smell and a couple of people have donned N95 masks to help as well. Nick however is sitting in the driver’s seat of the Kawasaki Mule with a full-blown military issued M40 protective mask covering his face.

  “What in the Hell! Where did you get that and where has it been hiding?” I say through my respirator the words muffled.

  “I stole it from the National Guard, when we got everything else. When they weren’t looking, I just grabbed it off a shelf in the arms room. It has been stuffed in the bottom of my go bag ever since. In fact, I had almost forgot about it.” He replies, his words also muffled by the protective equipment covering his face.

  Nick, like me, chooses to leave his carbine in the UTV and then walks over to me checking the chamber of his pistol, to insure there was a round ready to go.

  “Everyone stay here, we are going to go check it out. Bob, stay by your radio.” I tell everyone, Bob nodding his head his face a pale shade of green.

  Nick and I make our way up to the house, before we mount the large front porch; we both unholster our sidearms and hold them in front of us in a low ready position. Using hand and arm signals I tell Nick I want him on the side of the front door where the door knob is, he will be the breacher and will sweep from center right and will post up in the far-right corner of the room. I will enter second and sweep from center left and will proceed to post up in the left corner of the room; after determining clear, we will continue to sweep the house in such a way.

  After a painstaking fifteen minutes of thoroughly searching every room in the house; we discover that it doesn’t appear to be abandoned for as long as we thought. In fact, it appears that there were occupants here as late as a week or so ago. After searching the entirety of the house, we head back to the kitchen area and the door that leads to the back yard. Again, we stack up with Nick as the breacher and me as the only follow-on guy.

  Nick swings the door open and we rush into the back-yard pistols at the ready and what we see drops us both to our knees. I rip my respirator off just in time to lose everything in my stomach from breakfast and maybe a little from last week. I glance over and see Nick in the same position as I am. What has brought us to this position is the scene in front of us. What must be the entire Smith family is piled one on top of each other limbs all intertwined like they were just thrown there. The carrion birds, coyotes and wild hogs have added to the carnage by spreading the gore around th
e back yard.

  After regaining my composure, I take a drink from my pathfinder stainless steel canteen then slip the respirator back on my face. We begin to investigate the scene. All along the brick on the back of the house is the pockmarks of multiple bullet’s impacts. Places in the yard are still dark with dried blood and matted grass where someone’s life was extinguished.

  “Chase”, Nick’s muffled voice breaks the silence; the first word either of has spoken in the last twenty minutes. When I turn to look up at him, he tosses me a spent brass casing he found. 5.56mm Federal, hmm interesting. That is an American round, so could it be that the Smith family shot back or was this an attack by another group of armed citizens.

  “Bob”, I say into my radio. “It is all clear in the house. Nick and I are in the backyard, but I don’t recommend coming back here and honestly I don’t want my girls; Sandy, included back here.”

  “Chase, what is it?” I hear Calvin ask into his own radio.

  “I don’t want to say over the radio. But why don’t you and Kerri unhook the trailer and go ahead and bring the tractor back here. Just prepare yourselves for the worst.” I explain.

  While they are taking care of the trailer in the front yard; Nick and I continue our search of the back yard and that is when we see it. A field of spent brass. Hundreds of rounds scattered around. Picking one up and examining it; I immediately recognize it as 7.62x39mm AK47 ammo and a lot of it.

  “This explains why we couldn’t find the source of the shooting last week, DAMNIT!” Nick says, throwing down a handful of the AK brass. “We didn’t even look around houses and private property. In fact, we didn’t even think about it.”