by Ray Wench
“Okay, we’ll split the kids up, a boy and a girl in each group. When we get a chance, I want to teach everyone how to shoot too. You never know when that might be needed.”
Lynn gave him a quick smile then averted her eyes. That was as much as Mark dared to try for the time being. They said goodnight and went to bed. Mark set up a rotating watch each night in lieu of running the generator or using up the batteries. Each person took a two-hour shift. Darren had first watch and was already on duty. They had one watch and whoever was on guard duty wore it. More watches were on the list of things to start collecting.
Mark had the third shift from two to four and was awakened by Ruth. He took the watch and his rifle upstairs. Walking a path through the rooms he checked all the windows then repeated the action from the second floor. He wouldn’t allow the kids to go to the second floor, fearing they might get trapped up there if intruders hit in a sudden rush. But it gave him a better view of the streets and if he got trapped there, he could hold his own. When all seemed clear, he went back downstairs and settled in a chair by the front window.
When it was time for Mark to wake the next shift, he continued to watch. He knew he needed sleep but so did they, and a tired lookout didn’t see much. He would wake the next person an hour before dawn so he could grab a couple of hours for himself. He wanted to be up and out early, figuring that would be the least likely time anyone would be out looking for them.
By seven, Darren and Ruth were in the van with Mark, ready to roll. Each carried a knife and a .22 handgun. Lynn had compiled a list of items she wanted them to look for. With women in the house, the normal list had changed and expanded.
Mark drove out of the subdivision and into the one behind. It looked as though some of the houses had been ransacked in the first block. It was a smaller development and they wouldn’t be spending time burying the dead. They needed to collect as much as possible and head back. Mark’s plan was to be back to the house by noon. With three of them searching, they should be able to clear a house fast.
Within three hours, they’d cleared nearly twenty houses. The van was almost full, surprising Mark with the amount of food and drinks they found. For whatever reason, this subdivision had hardly been touched by the Horde. With two hours to go before his self-imposed deadline, Mark considered extending it. He was afraid to leave such a gold mine for fear it would be ravaged the next day.
The next hour they cleared six more houses, which Mark estimated was about a third of the development.
They were currently clearing a court that held twelve houses. Mark pulled up in the driveway of a house near the center of the circular court. They had been parking in the middle of three houses. They would clear the right, the center, then the left, before moving down to the next three. That way they could save on gas, yet still keep the van close enough in case they had to escape. As Mark pulled into the driveway to do the seventh eighth and ninth houses he announced they had an hour to go.
“We have these six houses to finish then we’re done.” He opened the door, stepped out, and heard something fall to the ground. A bullet whistled between the door and the van just as Mark bent to pick up the package of Ramen noodles.
“Get in the van,” he screamed as more shots smacked into the van. He had his handgun out to cover Ruth and Darren as they scrambled back inside. The shots came from the house they were parked in front of.
“Crawl to the back and keep down.” He returned fire, triggering two shots towards each gunman. Reaching inside the van he inserted the key, turned it, and slid the transmission into neutral. More shots peppered the van as it rolled back. If he put the van in reverse and jumped in he would be an easy target through the windshield, so he let the van roll, using the door as cover. When it bounced into the street, Mark reached in and yanked the wheel, putting it broadside to the house.
“Go on, you dirty thieves, get out of here,” a voice yelled from the house. They ceased firing when they saw the van rolling away. “Run away, you scavengers.”
“Don’t shoot, we’re leaving. We mean you no harm,” Mark called out.
“Like we’re gonna trust you. Get out of here or die.”
Mark jumped into the van and started the engine. These gunmen weren’t from the Horde, or they would not have stopped shooting. If only they would let him get close enough to talk to them, Mark might be able to convince them to join forces. He would have to give some thought as to how best approach them. But it wouldn’t be today. He drove down the block and stopped around the corner, out of sight of the house.
“Are you two all right?”
“Yeah, just scared,” Darren announced. Ruth was crying.
“It’s all right, Ruth, we’re safe now.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever really be safe,” she said.
Mark’s mouth moved to answer, but no words came out. He noticed several bullet holes in the side panels where sunlight poured through. She might be right.
“Well, let’s finish up here and get back. We’ve got enough time to do maybe six more houses. Let me get out first.”
Neither of the kids argued.
They flew through the next three houses and had just moved to the final three when shots erupted again. This time, however, the shots were not directed toward them. “I think it’s back at that house that fired at us.” Mark grabbed his rifle. “You two get in the van. Ruth, here’s the keys. You do know how to drive, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I’ve got my temps, but not my license.”
“I don’t think anyone’s gonna ticket you. Get in the driver’s seat and put the keys in the ignition, but don’t start it. If I yell for you to leave, you go. If I’m not back in twenty minutes, you go. Darren, you know the way back, right?”
“Yeah, but where are you gonna be?” A note of panic rose in his voice.
Mark touched his arm. “I’ll be fine. I’m gonna check and see if the people in that house need help.”
“Why?” Ruth asked. “They tried to kill us.”
“Yeah, that’s true, but if people tried to come in our house, wouldn’t we defend it?”
“I guess.”
“I think that’s all they were doing. They may be just like us. I’d like to find out.”
While Caleb and Alyssa sorted food items, Lynn dug through the storage area making an inventory of medical supplies. Her eyes fell on a gun. She didn't know much about them but picked it up. Hefting it, she was surprised at how lightweight it was. She looked at the cylinder and saw the tips of bullets. She thought about Mark; he seemed okay, but then, so had John when she first met him. An image of her husband appeared in her mind's eye. She shuddered.
He had been verbally abusive to both her and the kids. Nothing was ever right or good enough. Despite her best efforts. Lately, his abuse had turned more physical. He had forced himself on her twice. She touched her cheek where he'd slapped her, then her bicep where the bruise from his grip was only now fading. She had planned on leaving him, before everything went crazy.
They would stay for a while, until she knew her children were safe. But no man, would ever hurt her or the kids again. She slid the gun into her waistband and covered it with her shirt.
Fourteen
The gun battle had intensified. Reports from a lot more guns echoed through the court. Mark ran to the corner house and peeked around it. Three cars had pulled up in a line in front of the house. About ten men exchanged shots with the people inside. As he watched, some of the men split off and ran toward the bordering houses. Mark didn’t know how many people were in the house, but he had a bad feeling there were about to be a few less.
Mark went back to the fence and jumped it. He ran from yard to yard, vaulting fences, trying to get closer without being seen. The targeted house was the fifth from the corner. When he got within sight, he moved toward the front of a neighboring house to get his bearings and find where the attackers were. Were these attackers part of the Horde? If so, the size of the gang was discour
aging. They had the house surrounded. The defenders were firing from the front and the back, trying to keep the assailants at bay.
Moving cautiously, Mark went to the back yard and climbed another cedar fence. Staying close to the house as he advanced, he stopped at the rear corner. Mark had a clear view of the side and rear of the defending house. Two men in the back were firing at the house, trying to keep them occupied. Another man was attempting to get in through a side window. He had pulled off the screen and about to pry open the window. Inpatient, he took the rifle he carried and smashed the glass with the butt. If he couldn’t get in, he would at least be able to shoot inside.
Mark crawled to the fence between the two houses. A gate to the front yard stood to the right. The man was outside the gate, near the back third of the house. Mark lifted the metal loop from the post. He had the 9mm out and held the rifle in his left hand. From that angle, only one of the shooters in the back could see him and possibly two from the front. The gate creaked, but the attacker was too intent on trying to get in the window to notice.
Sliding through the gate, Mark was now six feet from his target. Mark moved fast, grabbed the man’s legs, and yanked him to the ground.
“Hey!” he said in surprise, before Mark brought the gun crashing down on his head. Another punch to the face and he stayed down. Taking the intruder's rifle, Mark tossed it through the broken window and went to the back corner. Putting his 9mm away, he leveled the rifle. He had a good line of sight on the first man and took the shot. The man fell back from the impact.
The second man saw his partner go down and swung toward the new threat. Mark dropped him before he could get off a shot. The back was now clear. Mark ran to where the first man fell and took his gun. Searching the dead man’s pockets, he found two more magazines. As he ran toward the second man, someone from the house shot at him. He dove to the ground and crawled to the tree the second body was behind. Once again he stripped the man of his weapons. Now he just had to get to the house without being shot.
Ripping the man’s bloody shirt off Mark waved it in the air, hoping it would serve as a white flag, even though it was blue and blood red.
“Don’t shoot,” he called. “I’m not with them.”
Another shot told him they didn’t believe him. He couldn’t afford to be pinned down back there. The shooting out front had come to a momentary lull. The sudden quiet was eerie. A car approached at high speed and screeched to a stop. He needed to see what was happening. He was about to try the makeshift flag again when a shot rang out, followed by a scream from the house. He risked a quick peek and the person at the window was looking away. It might be the best the chance he would get to move.
Then the man left the window entirely. Mark’s was sure someone inside had taken a bullet. He sprinted to the side of the house with the dead men’s guns, stopping under the broken window. He rose up as high as he could reach and tried to listen.
“Oh, God, it hurts, it hurts!” The voice sounded either female or perhaps teenage.
“Watch the front,” a man’s voice commanded. “Keep focused or we’ll all end up shot, and worse, than this.”
“But we’re almost out of ammunition and there are so many of them. How are we supposed to fight them all?”
Another male voice added, “Maybe we should see if they’re willing to make a deal.”
“Are you nuts? You know what they want ‒ our food, our supplies, and the women. They won’t make a deal with us, at least not one they’ll abide by.”
“But Frank, I only have one bullet left.”
“I don’t have any,” another voice replied. “How can we win?”
“Not to mention, Mary needs medical assistance.”
Frank said, “So what, you just want to give up? They’ll kill us for sure. And James, in case you hadn’t noticed, there is no medical assistance. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not giving up. If I’m gonna die, I’m going down fighting.”
Mark grabbed the window sill and chinned himself up so he could see into the room. Two older men and an older woman huddled around a woman writhing on the floor. “He’s right, don’t give into them.”
Someone screamed and several bodies jumped and pointed guns at Mark.
“Don’t shoot. Here, take these guns. I took them off the guys out back.” He dropped them on the floor next to the rifle they hadn’t noticed yet. “I’ve seen what they’ll do to you if you give up. The men will die and the women will be passed around. I’ll help you from out here.”
“They’re moving out there. He might be a distraction so they can rush the house.”
All eyes swung toward the front windows. Mark could see where things were headed and before they had a chance to swing back his way and shoot, he dropped down. He would have to convince them he was helping by taking out a few more attackers.
He crawled to the front corner and peered out at the street. Sure enough, they were assaulting the house. The new car had brought more men.
Two men jumped up on the porch. One of them aimed a shotgun at the door and fired into the hinges. Three others slid to a stop underneath the front windows. He couldn’t tell how many, but some of the men ran to the opposite side of the house, making an end run. That left three more shooters still behind the cars. They were keeping up a constant covering fire.
Mark pulled out the handgun and leaned around the corner. The men under the windows were all crouched down, waiting for the door to swing open. The two men closest to Mark had their backs to him. The man closest to the porch faced Mark but looked at the windows above. He decided to chance it because the people in the house had run out of time.
After the third shotgun blast, the second man on the porch grabbed the door and yanked it away from the frame. A shot from inside was fired too soon, burying in the door. The two men went inside. The firing was intense. The three men under the window stood up to pour bullets through the windows. As they did, Mark opened fire. He shot the first man in the back, throwing him forward into the middle man.
The man looked at his partner’s body sinking to the ground. Mark shot twice more. Bloody geysers erupted in the man’s chest. He toppled over face first, leaving the third man staring right at Mark with his gun already up. Mark rolled to the side.
The man was good. He kept tracking Mark and had him lined up for the shot, but before he could pull the trigger, a gun pointed out the window above and fired straight down into the man’s head.
Mark lay on his back, staring up at the man in the window, unable to believe his luck. Then shots began hitting the ground around him.
Luck could be fleeting.
He crawled around the corner until he was out of sight. Leaning against the wall, he said a quick “thank you,” then went to the back of the house to see how things were there.
Two men were on the deck, firing through the broken patio door and a shattered kitchen window. They had the defenders pinned down. Mark took a deep breath and stepped around the corner, pulling the trigger non-stop. He drilled three rounds into the first man as he walked forward. When the man fell sideways, Mark continued firing toward the second man. However, that man saw Mark coming and ran for the railing of the deck. He put a hand on the deck and swung his legs up and over as Mark’s rounds found their target. The man fell over the rail, hitting the ground hard.
Mark’s first instinct was to follow him up to the rail, but if the guy were still alive, he could be lying there waiting for Mark to check on him. He grabbed a small flower pot off the rail nearest him and moved along the side of the deck. He pitched the pot over the rail near where he saw the man fall. Just as he suspected, the man fired in response to the crashing flower pot. Mark ran past the deck and finished his magazine at the man.
With his gun now empty, Mark took his enemy’s gun. There were no extra magazines, which suggested that the attackers were probably running low too. On the porch, Mark had better luck. That man had an extra magazine and three rounds in his gun. He stripped out
the mag and put the full one in. The man defending the back, thankfully, did not fire at him this time. Mark gave him a wave, then hurried off toward the front.
Another vehicle entered the court and approached the house. Mark shook his head. Was the Horde never ending? The battle intensified again. Mark moved to the front corner. One of the men on the porch was down, lying in a bloody heap across the threshold. The other was nowhere to be seen. The door was on the ground. The firefight inside had ceased.
Mark looked at the street. An SUV had pulled up and swung sideways about ten yards from the other cars. Four people stood behind it, shooting at the attackers. The defenders in the house renewed their efforts. The remaining attackers, realizing they were now outnumbered, tried to flee. One took off running, trying to reach the cover of the houses. Another jumped in the nearest car and tried to peel out. A third attempted to get in the passenger side. The driver didn’t wait for him. He took off, leaving the man standing all alone in the middle of the street where he didn’t last long.
Mark slid the rifle from his shoulder and lined up a hasty shot at the running man. He had little time to adjust, though it was not a long shot for his weapon or his skill. The man tumbled forward between the houses. Mark turned toward the escaping car as the sound of gunfire increased. The windshield and side windows shattered from multiple impacts, causing the driver to jump the curb and crash head-on into a tree. The dazed man tried to open the door but was dropped as soon as he attempted to stand.
The fight was over.
Mark stepped out and swung his weapon from side to side, making sure no more targets presented themselves. He heard the sound of running getting closer and instinct caused him to level the rifle at the advancing figures. But, a closer look at the group caused his mouth to fall open.
“I thought I told you to stay put,” Mark admonished Ruth and Darren.
Ruth replied, “Then who would have come to your rescue?”