Black Autumn: A Post Apocalyptic Saga

by Jeff Kirkham

  Easy day.

  • • •

  Oakwood, Utah

  Canyon Hospital

  Jeff took a last look at the little hospital through his binos. It was the same as the recon report from yesterday: one rent-a-cop standing at the entrance to the emergency room. The guy must not have a family, Jeff guessed. He looked like he was in his twenties and soft around the middle. Typical single guy. The guard carried a sidearm, but Jeff was pretty sure he could win him over with his sparkling personality.

  They were ahead of schedule. Turned out, the building Jeff had designated as the Objective Rally Point—where they rallied to assault the hospital—was also a pharmacy. Taking that pharmacy had been about as hard as asking your mom to dance.

  An old gal, the former manager, had been there on duty, but she wanted to go home real bad and she was more than happy to turn the place over to anyone willing to take it. Amazingly, nobody had screwed with the drugs in the back. All the meds were right where they were supposed to be, with plenty of narcotics in neat little slots on a big rack.

  Jeff checked in with the other elements of his assault team and gave the go command on the hospital. He didn’t have to belabor the process with his lead guys; Evan and Alec were already moving their teams into flanking positions. He could count on them like a morning dump.

  Jeff, his rifle slung around his back, walked straight up to the rent-a-cop in front of the emergency room. “Hey, buddy.”

  His two wingmen, both guys from the Homestead, fanned out, drifting behind cover but keeping their hands off their bang-sticks.

  “Stop right there!” The security guard held out his hand and placed his other hand on his handgun.

  “Whoa, brother.” Jeff put both his hands out front, using the universal sign for whoa.

  What the security guard didn’t know was that Jeff had practiced quick draw and shooting from this very position about ten thousand times. Jeff didn’t doubt he could drop the security guard before the guy’s gun cleared his holster.

  “Stop right there!” the security guard repeated.

  “Here’s the deal, bro. We’re here to help. We’d like to join your security detail.” Jeff figured it was only a small lie. “We want to help protect the hospital from looters. You good with that?”

  The security guard kept his hand on his gun, his eyes darting about. “Wha… What do you want?” he stammered.

  “Take your hand away from your gun and we’ll talk this through. We want to help secure the hospital. I’m National Guard and so are my buddies.” Another small lie. “We’re from the 19th Special Forces Group and we’re here to help.” That one was a whopper. Only he and Evan could claim any connection to the 19th Group, and they definitely weren’t here on orders.

  “Okay. Do you have some ID?” The kid really wanted to believe him.

  “Sure. I’m going to reach into my pocket, so don’t shoot me, okay?” Jeff had no concerns about the guy shooting him. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff could see Evan off to his right, leaning over the hood of a car with his M4. He would drop the security guard if he so much as itched his arm.

  Jeff reached into a pocket on his chest rig and slowly pulled out his National Guard ID. Jeff reached out to hand it over, and the guard went to take it. With a flash of movement, Jeff had the guy’s gun arm twisted behind his back. The guard’s eyes went wide and he grunted with the sudden change of circumstances. One moment he had been in control of the situation and the next moment he was helpless.

  “All right, pal. Now we’ve got that out of the way and we’re good buddies, how about you take me to the boss?” Jeff used his free arm to reach around and pull the guard’s firearm out of the holster. Jeff handed it off to one of his wingmen. He kept the guard’s arm cranked behind his back for good measure, but he let up a little on the pressure. They would probably be on the same team with the security guard in a few minutes, so no point in damaging the guy’s ego any more than he must.

  The guard led Jeff and his two men inside and through the hospital while Evan and Alec covered the outside of the building. After a couple of turns down the inside corridors, Jeff came around a corner to find a disheveled doctor behind a nurse’s desk in the emergency room, hiding from them. Somehow, the doctor had known they were coming.

  “What is going on here?” the doctor shouted, seeing three guys in military clothes manhandling his security guard.

  “Good morning, Doc.” Jeff reached out his right hand, a big smile on his face, still pinning the guard’s arm. “We’re here to help.”

  “Yeah, then why are you holding my guard like you’re his mean big brother?” the doctor barked.

  “Sorry about that. We’re just becoming friends and we still have a couple of things to work out.” Jeff released the arm and pushed the guard toward one of his guys with a flick of his eyes that said cover this guy.

  “How’re you going to help us?” the doctor asked, unconvinced.

  “Today, maybe tomorrow, this hospital is going to be overrun with druggies. Your mall ninja here isn’t going to be able to stop more than one or two of those fellas coming for free OxyContin. Right?”

  “Yeah, we’ve already been robbed twice.” The doctor managed to look even more haggard when he said it. “We don’t have much in the way of drugs here. If that’s what you want, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “No, sir, we’re not looking for drugs. We’d like to keep this place from being burned to the ground. We’re Special Forces formerly attached to the 19th Group at Tooele.” Jeff figured it would be a good time to dial back on the fiction, especially if he wanted long-term cooperation. The doctor was an asset he hoped to retain. “Here’s my ID from the Army.”

  Jeff reached across the desk and handed the ID to the doctor. “We’re not on orders, but we’re looking to do some good deeds and we figured we’d help protect your hospital.”

  “Okay. Then what do you want?” The doctor sat down hard in the nurse’s chair and rubbed his eyes, handing back the ID with his free hand.

  “I just want to leave some guys here to help Mr. Security Guard,” Jeff told him. “That’s it. Can everyone get behind that plan?”

  “Yeah, I guess we can give that a try. So long as you promise to leave if we ask you to leave.”

  Jeff said nothing and the doctor took it as agreement. He stood and shook hands with Jeff. “I’m Doctor Lewis and this is Steve.” He motioned toward the security guard. “You should know we called the police when we saw you out front.”

  “Oh, your cell’s working? Did the police answer?” Jeff asked.

  “Well, we called a cop we know down the street. We had his cell number. He’s on his way.”

  Like clockwork, Jeff’s radio squawked. “Jeff, Evan. Over.”

  “Go ahead,” Jeff spoke into the radio hanging from his shoulder strap.

  “We’ve got us a boy in blue out here, and we’re pointing guns at each other.”

  “Roger. I’m coming out. We made friends inside. It’s all good. Don’t shoot anyone.”

  “Copy.”

  Jeff motioned for his guys to stay with Steve, and he headed out the ER doors with Doctor Lewis.

  The cop hunched behind his car, trying to cover fifteen soldiers at once with his Glock.

  “Hold up, boys,” Jeff shouted as he came through the door, placing the doctor between him and the cop.

  “Doctor Lewis, you okay?” the cop shouted.

  “I’m good, Officer,” Doctor Lewis said. “These men are from the National Guard and they’re here to help us protect the hospital.”

  “Is that right? Then why aren’t they driving a Hummer, and why are they pointing their rifles at me?”

  “I can explain,” Jeff chimed in. “Officer, we’re not under orders. We came here on our own to help out. We’d like to keep the hospital intact for everyone’s benefit. That make sense to you?”

  “Yep,” the cop agreed, “that makes sense if you’re not full of shit. From what
I can see, you’re robbing this hospital.”

  Jeff laughed. Damn cops. No trust.

  “Does it really matter? This isn’t a situation where your skeptical nature is going to buy you anything good. Am I right?”

  The cop laughed, stood up straight and holstered his gun.

  “You got a point there. So what’s the scam?” He walked over to Jeff, ignoring the rifles pointed at him.

  Brave enough guy, Jeff thought.

  “Officer Jacobs,” Jeff read the guy’s name tag, “why are you in uniform? Ain’t you heard? The police 401K has gone down the tubes.”

  Jacobs laughed. “I’m not on duty. I don’t think anyone’s on duty. I live down the street, and I told Doc Lewis to call me if any more druggies came by. I figure that wearing a uniform makes it slightly less likely that someone will shoot me. You guys apparently operate on the same theory.”

  “Yeah, something like that.” Jeff had ordered all his men to wear multi-cam BDUs. They had tons of camo at the Homestead, and it made them seem more official and more lethal. Uniforms, patches, and even helmets, as useless as they might be, added an air of “don’t fuck with me.” That kind of thing, Jeff reasoned, went a long way in the new Wild West.

  “Okay, boys, am I supposed to just go on home?” Jacobs asked.

  “How about this?” Jeff had an idea. “How about you stay on the job—help us keep this hospital all nice and pretty?”

  “And what do I get outta that? My 401K is in rough shape, as you pointed out.”

  “How about we feed your family and protect them behind a secure perimeter? How’s that for a deal?”

  The cop thought about it for a second. “I’m not sure how you’d do that, but that’s the kind of deal that sells itself.”

  Jeff stepped forward and offered his hand. “We got us a deal. This is Josh and he’s going to take a ride with you and show you and your family up to our little piece of heaven on that hill over there. How’s that sound?” Jeff pointed to one of his trainees and then up the hill in the direction of the Homestead.

  Jacobs shook Jeff’s hand. “Okay then. Sounds like a deal.”

  Jeff turned and walked over to Evan.

  “See? I can make friends and influence people. When are you guys going to start believing in me?”

  “Not only is it the Apocalypse,” Evan countered, “but we’re seeing bona fide miracles. You’re making people like you instead of just stomping on them. It’s truly the Second Coming of the Lord Almighty. Next thing you know, lions and lambs will be lying down together, making sweet love.”

  The rest of the morning, Jeff’s team rolled up another pharmacy and checked out two others. The big chain pharmacies were totally looted out, but they did manage to score a small mom-and-pop pharmacy that was being guarded by a shotgun-toting owner. Jeff turned on the charm and won the old guy over. No shots fired.

  At each location, Jeff left an NCO—non-commissioned officer, basically the highest ranking enlisted guy—and a small contingent of men. He would need to send down supplies and relief troops daily from the Homestead.

  His ham radio nerd up at the Homestead had hooked them up with three ham base stations, even though their little hand-held ham radios seemed to work well between town and the Homestead. The only thing that nagged at Jeff was the lack of communications security. Pretty much anyone who stumbled onto their frequency could listen in and figure out what they were doing. He had instituted a list of codes with his guys. But, if an enemy listened long enough, they would figure it out.

  For their last stop, Jeff’s team selected the smallest and closest of six refineries to “liberate.” They had made that choice based on intel; the Homestead had a member who used to work at that refinery, and he knew how the plant functioned.

  It wasn’t as though the Homestead planned on refining its own gas, at least not for a long time. But the refinery maintained tens of thousands of gallons of fuel of several types in a dozen huge tanks. Until the gas went bad, they could use it or sell it. And, if they survived long enough to rebuild society, having an intact refinery would be a huge step ahead for everyone.

  All that was gravy as far as Jeff was concerned. His primary goal was to keep the Special Operations boys busy. If they weren’t given meaningful work, they would start breaking stuff around the house. Might as well get them doing something useful. Preserving infrastructure and assaulting targets fit the bill. Plus, Jeff suspected that gas and medicine would become the new money when things settled down. Being rich in consumables during the Zombie Apocalypse couldn’t hurt.

  As they reconnoitered the refinery, Jeff didn’t like what he saw. Security around the facility showed organization, with three armed guards covering sensible fields of fire. The security forces were undermanned, but it looked like Jeff might have to get in a shooting fight in order to take the plant.

  A choice had to be made: either assault the refinery or talk the guards into giving it up. He would sacrifice surprise by talking to the security guards, but there was a lot of upside to trying to talk them down. For one thing, he would avoid any risk of casualties or damage to the refinery. One stray bullet could cause a leak that he didn’t know how to fix. Capturing a refinery with a hundred holes in it sort of defeated the purpose.

  His team deployed in a rough perimeter, and Jeff marched straight up to the refinery gate.

  Nothing happened. Jeff pounded on the gate, and, still nothing happened. Evan reported by radio that the guards had tightened their defensive positions, presumably because they knew there was an armed guy in military camo hollering at their gate. Two of the security guys were positioned on top of storage tanks and another was covering the gate with his rifle.

  Jeff found some cover behind a guard shack, and he went through his options. He could still assault the plant. They could probably shoot all the defenders without losing anyone, but that would open up Pandora’s Box of Combat—meaning: you never knew what you’d get.

  Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, Jeff reminded himself.

  He could sneak in and light a fire up against one of the storage tanks, forcing the security guards’ hand. But that defeated the purpose of the assault in the first place, especially if the fire spread to other tanks.

  Jeff routinely geeked out over military history, especially feudal warfare. It occurred to him this situation penciled out like a modern-day siege. Why not form a cordon around the facility and wait? The guards probably didn’t have much water. They were probably getting water from the irrigation ditch to the west of the plant. His guys could deny them their water source without any risk at all.

  That plan seemed to accomplish both of Jeff’s objectives: keeping the SOF guys busy and protecting the refinery. If hungry pyromaniacs came around to light the refinery on fire, Jeff’s guys would shoot them. Even though he had hoped for the thrill of victory today, bottling up the refinery accomplished everything he needed.

  “Evan. Jeff. Over.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “How about we just let these guys sit for a few days? They’ve got to get thirsty sometime. Over.”

  Evan radioed back, ignoring radio protocol. “Oh, Great Lord Clovenhoof, we shall besiege the castle at your command… You’re the tactician. Sounds good to me. Over.”

  “Copy. I’m coming back. Over.”

  Jeff trotted out from behind cover and ran across the field to Evan.

  “I’ve got another idea,” Jeff huffed, just a touch winded.

  “Oh, boy.” Evan started laughing. When Jeff got creative, life got complicated. Evan knew this from many years of adventure with Jeff.

  Jeff steeled himself for a hard sell. “The Homestead could spare you and probably ten of these guys. I think Ross is working on adding a bunch of neighborhood guys to perimeter defense, and I can train those guys up in a few days. I think we have a little time. Do you want to go on a fun run?”

  “Sign me up, brother. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Jeff smiled. “Th
is is just a thought, so don’t shoot it down right away. Why don’t you guys borrow a few toys from the Army Depot?”

  Evan looked away, smiling. “Fucking thug. It’s always gotta be wild and crazy with you. Do you have a couple dozen main battle tanks I don’t know about? How’re we going to take stuff from the Army Depot? They’re actual troops, not dipshits like these guys.” Evan waved back at the refinery.

  “Hear me out.” Jeff held up his hands defensively. “I was just out at the depot and that place was leaking guys like a wool condom. There’s no way they can cover down on all those ammo bunkers; there’s like two hundred of them. And, as you know, they’ve got good stuff. Not just .223, but belt-feds, high explosives. Dude, if the world keeps going downhill, ammo and guns will be the same as money. I don’t know about you, but I like money.”

  Evan thought about it for a moment. “Sure. Fuck it. Let’s go rob the Army Depot. Sounds like good times. Who do you want me to take?”

  Twenty minutes later, Evan and ten guys marched west, looking for cars to steal.

  • • •

  Federal Heights,

  Salt Lake City, Utah

  Carl Redmund invited Jimmy hunting. Jimmy said yes, but ran through a long list of misgivings in his mind. This wasn’t a world where a man should agree to something because he wanted to avoid conflict, but that’s exactly what Jimmy had done.

  Back in the old world—just one week ago, he reminded himself—Jimmy used to hold Carl Redmund in awe. Redmund had been a football player at the University of Utah and he had undoubtedly had sex with scores of women and had, literally, been the big swinging dick on campus.

  That was twenty years ago and, even though Jimmy hadn’t even gone to the University of Utah, it still factored into his thinking. Redmund had little to add in a relationship with Jimmy. After a few hunting forays to the cemetery, where Jimmy had brought back half-a-dozen deer, he had been crowned The Hunter on his street. He didn’t know if it was self-delusion or self-discovery, but Jimmy now thought of himself that way now, too. Based on results, he was the apex provider in his neighborhood. Bottom line: he had fed a lot of people over the last few days, including Redmund and even the bishop.