Authors: L. Douglas Hogan
“How much farther before we reach your friend’s house?” the general asked Gideon as they ducked tree limbs and stepped over protruding tree roots. They had spent a large portion of their travel going through the woods.
“We’re not far now. He has a group of people with him that are good people too,” Gideon said.
“I hope you’re right about this. We can’t make one mistake, seeing as we only have pistols to defend ourselves with,” McKanty said.
Aaron, looking back over his shoulder, said, “We’re right. We know him well. He will be a good ally and arrange to get us to safety.”
“How long have you known this guy, and what is his name?” John asked.
“We grew up with him and went to school with him. He will trust our opinion of you,” Gideon reassured them.
After a few more minutes of small talk and traversing through some seriously overgrown forest, they arrived at the edge of the woods and a wide view of an open ranch-style area, supported by wooden guard towers on every corner. The area was surrounded in an almost perfect square of forest area. There was an enormous fort-looking structure in the center with a guard tower in the center of it. Each guard tower was manned with two people armed with scoped high-powered rifles. All around the center structure were mounds, on average about forty feet by ten feet, about five in all.
Every gun in the towers was trained in their direction. While John and McKanty were taking in everything they could mentally note, Gideon took a bright orange flag from his cargo pocket and threw it onto the property.
A guard from one of the towers yelled down to Gideon, “What month is it?”
“July,” Gideon answered.
Everybody knew it was October, but this was a ritual to determine friend from foe.
Another voice from the tower asked, “What year is it?”
“Seventeen seventy-six,” Gideon responded.
This time the rifles lowered and the heavily armored door of the center structure opened, revealing a young man in his twenties. He exited the doorway and walked toward the tree line.
“Let’s go, guys. It’s okay,” Aaron said, stepping out into the clearing. Gideon followed suit and stepped out of the woods.
John and McKanty were reserving their opinions for now. Even though John was impressed with their security, he wasn’t impressed with the size of the group. He had already calculated that there was no plausible way a group large enough to squeeze into the structure could resist a platoon-sized attack by trained active-duty military or veterans.
McKanty whispered to John, “Take me to your leader,” in an attempt at satire.
John smirked and whispered back, “Let’s see what we have here. It’s better than nothing.”
John and McKanty watched as the three men talked. They were studying their body language and watching the men in the tower.
“You can come out,” Aaron yelled at them.
“You first,” McKanty said to John as he looked at him.
“First in,” John said to McKanty, making reference to his Marine Corps heritage. He stepped out of the woods; McKanty, Joshwa, and Zamora followed him.
Looking to Gideon and Aaron, they saw Gideon wave them in to meet their friend.
Once the crew had walked up to where Aaron and Gideon stood with their friend, Aaron looked at them and said, “I would like you to meet Michael.”
John extended his hand to Michael and studied his handshake. He noted that his handshake was weak and almost limp-wristed.
“I’m glad to meet you, Michael. My name is John,” he said as he grasped his hand firmly in an attempt to assert himself as a masculine alpha-type individual. “This is my friend Belt,” John said as he extended his arm toward Belt.
Belt stepped forward and gave Michael a firm handshake. “How do you do, Michael.”
“I’m glad you guys are here, but I’m afraid we can’t feed you,” Michael said.
“We’re not here for food,” John replied to Michael.
John was being careful not to reveal anything to the strangers. He wasn’t sharing his intention to gather intelligence on the group and to learn of their transportation capabilities and weapons.
“We’re just passing through,” John said to Michael. “We’ve been traveling all night and we’re exhausted and in desperate need of shelter and some sleep.”
Michael was a thin bearded man in camouflage BDUs and black military-style boots. Both Belt and John knew the man wasn’t prior military just by his demeanor and handshake. The mere fact that he dressed like one did not hide the truth from the trained veterans.
“Well then, I suppose we can spare a meal for each of you and give you shelter for the night. Won’t you come in?” Michael extended his arm toward the door he had walked from. Aaron and Gideon walked first, seeing they were the most comfortable and longtime friends with Michael.
Upon entering the structure, it reminded John and Belt of a military bunker. There were lights on the walls and that grabbed the attention of both men.
“How is it that you have electricity here?” John asked.
“We have generators,” Michael said as he led them downward through the corridors.
The underground walkways were constructed of galvanized culverts that were placed end to end, creating long walkways that led to other underground rooms. The rooms were constructed from large steel cargo shipping containers. This was what caused the mounds, which could be seen from the woods.
Michael led them to a room that was full of boxes. He cut one open with his Ka-Bar and handed everybody in the party an MRE, meal ready to eat.
On the way back, Michael began talking to the party. “About three years ago, we acquired the necessary items to build this place. It took a great deal of planning and prep to pull it together. We even have a Faraday room in case of an EMP attack. We’re not planning on getting caught off guard.”
No sooner than Michael had said that, he was knocked unconscious by General James. He had hit him in the back of the head with his pistol.
“What are you doing?” Aaron and Gideon yelled almost simultaneously.
“I’m saving us,” John said to them. “This is not the world you’re used to anymore, boys. These people may be smart, but they’re not warriors. Spread out and find the weapons if you want to live.”
Belt headed back to the food storage room and started figuring sustainability. Aaron walked in behind him and said, “You’re not going along with this, are you?”
“This is for the greater good, Aaron.”
“Greater good? Taking from others is for the greater good?”
“Look, he said he wasn’t going to take care of us, except for a meal. We need more than that if we’re going to live out there on the run.”
John had hog-tied Michael with Michael’s bootlaces and walked into the room where Aaron was trying to talk Belt out of taking food.
“Is there a problem here?” John asked.
“Only that you’re acting like a tyrant,” Aaron said.
“A tyrant? I spared your father’s life and saved your mother’s.”
“And now you’re taking without asking,” Aaron said.
“Maybe so, but I’ve got to eat to live, and I must live if I’m to get to my destination and get this country working again.”
Belt looked at John and wondered what his destination was. It was something that John had not shared with him. As far as Belt knew, they were heading to a safe zone long enough to wait out any search parties so that they could reunite with their families.
“General,” Belt said, “Can I have a moment alone with you?”
Aaron stepped out of the room.
Belt turned to John and asked, “What do you mean by ‘destination’?”
“I sent a Marine Corps regiment to South Dakota. They’re set up in the Black Hills and that’s where I’m heading. These people are weak. One-trick ponies that have done nothing for their countries, then horde resources to save themselves using the freedoms we’ve served to them on a golden platter. Now their world is gone and those very freedoms are being threatened. If I’m to be judged as a tyrant for doing what I must to preserve liberty for the masses, then let it be.”
“Well, now we’re in a pickle. The towers are loaded with armed guards and we’ve got their leader. Did you think this through?” Belt asked John.
“Actually, I would have talked to you and let you in on all this, but we haven’t had a moment alone.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“If you were a platoon commander and you sent two men to shake down a home and they never returned, what would you do?”
“I see where you’re going. So the idea is we wait it out?”
Joshwa reported back. “I found the guns and ammunition.”
“Good job, Josh. Now we wait it out,” John said.
Nathan snapped to, forgetting he was in a firefight against a small brigade of raiders. When Jess got shot in the back, his whole world slowed as he just looked into her eyes.
Nathan laid Jess on her back and aimed in the direction of Jess’s attacker.
“I’ve got her, boss,” Denny shouted as he was pulling medical gear from his pack.
Nathan quickly looked over his shoulder to see everyone lying semi-prone in the woods when suddenly Warren let a shot ring out with his Savage AXIS .308 Win bolt-action rifle. He hit his mark, striking a man in the chest that was creeping through the woods. A volley of new shots rang out, along with the sound of people noisily running through the woods.
“Find a target and engage,” Nathan said. He took another moment to look at Jess. “How is she?”
Denny had her on her abdomen and had cut her shirt open from the back side with his karambit folding knife. “It’s a clean shot,” Denny said as he was patching her.
Nathan was relieved for a moment until he heard screams and gunfire coming from the camp. The battle was now on two fronts. Nathan’s mind went from Jess to his sister, Katie, who was still in the camp, with her husband, Joe. “We’re going to need to wrap this up and get down there to our families,” Nathan said.
When he stood up and took to the trees as cover, everybody followed his lead.
Denny looked up at Nathan. “I’ll stay with her. You go finish this.”
Nathan picked out a target and headshot the man that was lying prone shooting in their direction. He then advanced and took cover behind another tree.
Ash was returning fire with an M&P S&W .223/5.56 that he had grabbed from a deceased attacker. His two dogs, Thor and Odin, were attacking assailants as well.
Of what was left, about ten raiders took off on foot out of the woods and were running towards the vehicles.
“No quarter,” Nathan yelled to the Posse. They stood up and started running towards the raiding party, who was now in full retreat. Gunfire rang out from the Posse as they were taking knees and using the trees to stabilize their aim. One by one, the raiders were falling. Two of them made it to a deuce and a half and were trying to take cover, but there was none. They just stood on the back side of the truck and dropped their weapons and stepped away from the truck. Warren and Ash, along with his two dogs, had them surrounded.
Back in the woods, Jess asked, “Am I going to live, Denny?”
“Unfortunately,” Denny quipped.
Jess smiled and said, “I can’t move my left arm.”
“The bullet just missed your shoulder blade. You’ll be useless for a few days until your muscles can recover.” Hearing gunshots from the camp, Denny told her, “You should be able to walk, though.” He helped her to her feet and put her M4 in her right hand. “I’ve got to get out there and do some shooting,” he said.
Denny took off towards the camp. Jess started heading in the direction of the raiding party’s vehicles, where Ash and Warren had two prisoners on their knees. The rest of the Posse had headed towards the camp to repel what was left of the raiders.
Warren, looking over his left shoulder, saw Jess walking out of the woods, with a field dressing and a sling on her left arm.
“Man, am I glad to see you’re okay,” Warren said.
Ash was at the other end of the truck and saw Jess swing around from Warren’s left. She never said a word. She just walked up to Warren and handed him her rifle. She reached into her waistband and pulled out her .45 Governor and shot each of them in the head. She put her pistol back in her waistband, took her M4 from Warren, said, “No quarter,” and headed toward camp.
Jess strolled into the camp, hearing gunshots and screams as she went. People were scurrying about and she was having a hard time determining friend from foe. She was regretting the idea they had earlier about splitting the camp in two for the census. Had one person completed the whole census, that person would know every face. Now wasn’t the time to consider a new way. She decided to put that on the back burner for now.
As Jess was taking cover and looking around corners of homes, there was an occasional ricochet. Some people were covered behind trees and others behind vehicles. Jess saw guns pointing from windows but was unsure which of them were friendly.
Warren and Ash caught up with Jess and were tactically lined up behind her against a house.
“So what’s the plan?” Warren asked.
“I say we clear this place, house by house,” Ash suggested as he petted Thor and roughed Odin under his jaw.
“And then you get shot at the first house you enter. Then what?” Jess said. “We need code words for these types of situations,” she suggested.
Warren, who was third in line behind Jess, said, “This town is under siege and we don’t know who’s who.”
“Yeah, not good,” Ash said.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do” Jess began instructing. “I have to find Denny; between the two of us, we know every registered member of the camp and will be able to ID friendlies.”
“Okay, let’s do it,” Ash replied.
The trio began moving from cover to cover, attempting to locate Denny.
Warren was scanning the town through the Bushnell 3-9x40mm scope that was attached to his Savage .308 AXIS. “There’s Denny,” he said excitedly.
“Where at?” Jess asked.
“Hang on, he’s in a knife fight with some dude.”
“Can you get a shot off?” Ash asked.
“Not really, they’re moving around too much,” Warren answered.
Denny had his 599 Fox karambit knife and was parrying with an outsider that was wielding a Ka-Bar. The stranger, having the reach advantage, wasn’t prepared to face off with Denny, who had training and experience with his blade.