Breckinridge Valley: Surviving the Black--Book 1 of a Post-Apocalyptical series

by Zack Finley

  “I’ve agreed to take Sheriff Lewis and two deputies to the National Guard armory to demand some armored vehicles,” my dad said. “We know they have about 15 parked there, I just don’t know how many actually run. Sheriff Lewis doesn’t know if Major Thomas is ready to “lend” them or not. If Major Thomas refuses, the deputies are going home to wait out the emergency. This could be a game changer. I’m hoping Major Thomas will be reasonable. Sheriff Lewis has agreed to lend us two of the five, so we can continue to help in town.”

  This was more positive than I expected. It explained why I sent for my dad.

  “The danger to our bike scouts is now intolerable,” my dad said, looking around at the nods. “They are grounded. I know you are all meat eaters, but I don’t even want night missions until we get radio service back. I want everyone to stay undercover and keep their heads down until we find out if we have a local or global problem. My gut says we are fucked globally. I may love my neighbors, but they aren’t worth dying for if it leaves my family vulnerable. Let’s keep the family safe.”

  “Buzzer and I want to hang out at the middle school,” Eric said. “The apartments have plenty of manpower, I just don’t feel right leaving those seniors so vulnerable. They’ve really been working hard to feed themselves and anyone else who shows up.” He must have thought someone was going to object because he added, “We won’t go looking for trouble.”

  “Any other deployment changes?” I asked. Seeing nothing, “Okay, Buzzer and Eric have the middle school. Pull extra ammo out of the Hummer. Dad, warn Sheriff Lewis we have that place covered.” It felt good to help the middle school, even if it had no strategic value. I wouldn’t have ordered someone to protect it, but I was relieved Buzzer, and Eric felt that way.

  We split up.

  My dad and the sheriff rode in the front of our Humvee, leaving two of my guys crammed in the back with two deputies for the trip to see Major Thomas. The rest dispersed.

  For me, it was a spooky ride back to the valley. While I knew we weren’t likely to run into the dopeheads, I felt a bullseye on my back the whole way. From the way Craig varied his speed and veered right and left erratically, I knew I wasn’t the only one. We were feeling complacent, again.

  I briefed the rest of Force Beta on the happenings in town. We decided to open the pillboxes and break out the SAWs, especially if one of the Humvees was going to be leaving for off-site trips. I decided while we were moving equipment around to pull the main defensive tower giant erector set from storage. It was going to take several days and a lot of work to put it up.

  My mom announced she was taking a group of kids to harvest persimmons, after the heavy frost. She took her carbine with her, but I sent one of the Rangers with them, anyway. I knew the outing was educational, showing the newer generation ways to find food in the wild. While there was no real danger on our side of the river, it was still worrisome.

  I expected they would return with sacks of persimmons and hawthorn berries. If they were lucky, they’d find a few maypops, walnuts, hickernuts, and crabapples. I’m not very fond of persimmons, but I knew they provided a lot of beneficial vitamins.

  My mom usually dried the haws, using them later in the winter for a soothing tea. Such tea was supposed to have heart health benefits which might be very important in the future.

  She maintained a whole list of leaves and bark found in the area with suspected medicinal qualities, or which added nutritious natural boosts. She and Dr. Jerrod were itching to take some students on an herbal foraging expedition.

  While there were a bunch of old forest roads which crisscrossed our property outside the valley, my dad and grandpa blocked any that could lead into our valley. That put our whole defensive focus on the river crossing. But it also meant there was no reasonable way to retreat. I pondered that for nearly a year, before creating several horse and dirt bike trails leading the back way out of the valley. One of the most substantial led to the catfish farm. A day with a chainsaw crew or a dozer and we could have a four-wheel drive trail connecting the valley with a forest road.

  It was marked on The Plan as the emergency egress.

  It still felt wrong to guard only the one-way in. Despite that, I knew the current level of sophistication opposing us was too low to warrant spending much energy on other surveillance. Sending patrols out along the forest roads could attract the exact type of attention we were trying to avoid. Once we the radios came back, I might consider sending drones up to look.

  I was relieved when my dad came home with the two extra Humvees. Major Thomas had been sympathetic. He was reluctant to lend any more vehicles but agreed they weren’t doing any good in his parking lot.

  Sheriff Lewis topped off our Humvees with fuel.

  My dad doubted any deputies would leave their families unprotected. To allow them to pool resources, several were moving their families to the justice center. Those deputies agreed to do limited patrols in the new armored vehicles as long as someone was assigned to keep their families safe.

  We agreed to send a team tomorrow to help move the salvageable drugs to the jail, including from the veterinary clinic.

  Sheriff Lewis pledged to shift strategic supplies out of local businesses to safety at the jail. He felt he was covered by the FEMA order as long as he left an inventory of things taken.

  This was all positive. It was too bad Deputy Jenson died to bring it about.

  We weren’t allowed to dwell on sad thoughts. My mom’s foraging team brought back a lot of persimmons. They also located several walnut and hickory trees for the next trip. They were too heavy to carry back this trip. The foragers made of travois, using coats and long saplings, to bring back all of the persimmons they found. I suspected before their next trip, someone would pull a bunch of hatchets out of storage. They only found a few haws, but I knew my mom would dry those for the future.

  I worked with the rest of Force Beta to secure the M-249 SAWs in the concrete bunkers. Cleaning out the spiders and other debris took a while. At least the bunkers were dry. We stacked several ammo cans inside. We left the weapons in their hard cases to protect them. I knew my team could put them on target in seconds. Of course, they weren’t slouches with their personal automatic rifles either.

  We used the forklift to place two concrete highway barriers at our end of the bridge. They were positioned to force vehicles crossing the bridge to make a sharp turn at our end. It would also provide cover for anyone shooting from our end of the bridge at anyone attempting to cross. The barriers weren’t high enough to interfere with the Ma Deuce turrets.

  I hoped we were escalating fast enough. It dawned on me we didn’t know where all the national guards armored Humvees went. I hoped they were all parked safely either at the soldiers’ homes or the armory. I just wasn’t going to risk the valley’s future on that kind of hope.

  The night’s aurora was an odd swirling of greens and reds. Still bright enough to read by.

  ◆◆◆

  Chapter 7

  Oatmeal with seeds, almonds, dried apples, and a little honey was the main course at breakfast. With a persimmon. My mouth craved bacon, ham, or sausage, but that wasn’t on this morning’s menu. We still had coffee, but I was starting to wonder whether I shouldn’t just stop drinking it cold turkey. I knew my mom would be happy for me to switch to dried blackberry leaf tea.

  I set a good example for my girls and ate every bit of my porridge, and persimmon. The kids each drank a small cup of milk with their breakfast.

  We left four Rangers, two Humvees, and the security force to guard the valley when we went to shift supplies from the pharmacy. This left Roger and my mom in charge.

  My dad took three guys and the new Humvee. I took three guys and the armed Humvee.

  I put a sack of persimmons for the seniors in the armed Humvee. I agreed to drop the fruit off at the middle school, mainly because I wanted to check on Buzzer and Eric. I wanted them to scout the area around the pharmacy to make sure we didn’t have a sniper
in the woods.

  I planned to park the Humvee at the pharmacy and act like bait until they gave me the all clear.

  Still heavy static on the radio. The weather was cold and dry. The trees were now shedding their leaves at a dizzying rate. I was happy to see that, it would be easier to spot the bad guys.

  No one rode in the turrets.

  My dad went to the justice center. We split off to the middle school.

  I slammed on the brakes as we neared the turnoff to the school. An extended cab white pickup was abandoned crossways in the parking lot.

  I didn’t have to say anything as the two guys in the back slid out to investigate on foot.

  The middle school parking lot was the scene of deadly violence. Three bodies lay sprawled out of the double cab. A fourth body lay near the middle school door. All four had been armed. The one with a head wound was wearing Deputy Jenson’s body armor. I suspected the hunting rifle that lay on the ground beside him killed Jenson.

  Buzzer slipped out the middle school door and greeted us. “We left them where they died,” Buzzer said. “I was going to challenge them, but when I spotted the deputy’s body armor, we didn’t wait for anything else.”

  “Anyone inside hurt?” I asked.

  “Naw. Some are a bit huffy this morning, thinking we should’ve let the murderers shoot first. The rest think we are heroes, so it balances,” Buzzer said. “I don’t know where these creeps lived, but I suspect Sheriff Lewis can point us to the right place. We may recover a few of the pain pills. Not all of them, these guys were pretty wasted.”

  I remembered the persimmons and pulled them out of our Humvee. I sent two guys off in the Humvee to get dad and Sheriff Lewis. I went into the middle school with Buzzer.

  The men crowded around me raving about how awesome Buzzer and Eric were. A few of the women were just as effusive with their praise. The rest of the ladies looked uneasy, at least until I handed them the persimmons. That seemed to do the trick. It clearly established us as good guys.

  I hoped Sheriff Lewis saw things that way, too.

  In less than 15 minutes it looked like an invasion. It was only five Humvees and a sheriff’s car, but it was a substantial show of force.

  From the deputies’ reactions, I was reassured that Buzzer and Eric would be fine. Sheriff Lewis shook the Rangers’ hands and thanked them for removing this deadly threat. As expected, the dead men were well known to local cops. We got an address for them and offered to search the site for the rest of the drugs and other stolen property.

  I suspected Sheriff Lewis might not have asked us, but there was no way he was turning down an offer like that. I promised to secure the site and let him deal with what we found.

  Buzzer squeezed into the Humvee with us. Eric lost the challenge and remained at the middle school. Two deputies cleaned up the shooting site, after documenting it with the camera on their phones. They planned to drop the bodies off in the woods near the mortuary. They confiscated all the weapons, ammo, and the dual cab pickup. They were sure the truck was stolen.

  I parked our Humvee in the woods near the target location. Buzzer was the designated rescue force. The guys figured he already had his fun for the day.

  We left him in the Humvee as we stalked the target. The freshly fallen leaves made it difficult to maintain noise discipline. The leaves also hid a plethora of roots and stumps. To add to the fun, were the gnarly vines with sharp stickers. We were out of practice.

  Luckily there was enough of a breeze to mask the sound of our approach.

  Smoke trickled out of the chimney, but there was no way to know if someone was inside or not. There were several dismembered vehicles, some propped on wooden blocks and some just resting on the ground. I doubted any of them would ever run again. We confirmed a dilapidated outbuilding with a sagging roof was unoccupied.

  Two guys made a low-key entry through the back door. Craig and I lost the bet. We stood by to catch any runners or to rush in through the front door if needed. We were on shaky legal ground. Law enforcement would pound on the front door and then enter. If someone shot at us, they could easily claim we were invading their home. I trusted my guys to get the upper hand without having to shoot. Or not.

  After what seemed a lifetime, Zeke tapped the all clear then opened the front door.

  “Boss, you got to see this shit,” Zeke said, waving me to follow him.

  I didn’t need to go far to determine these folks would never win a housekeeping award.

  “No one was here except in this locked room. It was locked from the outside. We are going to need medical help,” Zeke whispered.

  A young girl, maybe Jennifer’s age was crouched on the floor holding a blanket in front of her. She showed signs of having been beaten. From the stains on the bed, she was raped, repeatedly. Ben tried to coax the girl out of the corner but without any success.

  “We are with the fire department,” I said crouching down. “They sent us to rescue you.”

  Craig took off to get the Humvee.

  “We need to get you to a doctor,” I said as soothingly as I could. Ben backed out of the room leaving me alone with the youngster.

  “Do you think you can wrap the blanket around you,” I asked. “It's pretty cold outside.”

  “Zeke, get Dr. Jerrod. Now,” I said quietly, backing out of the room.

  The girl reacted when I mentioned the fire department but was now lost in her own world.

  I stayed outside the door, trying to shrink. I saw brutalized women overseas, but not in my own backyard. And not Jennifer’s age.

  It seemed like hours, but I knew the guys broke land speed records getting Dr. Jerrod here. It was only a few miles. My mother also insisted on coming. Once the two women moved past me, I backed out, to stand with my back to the wall and my gut in a vise.

  Zeke and Ben stayed in the house. The rest of us crammed into the Humvee for the ride back. The girl clung to my mom and Dr. Jerrod. The rest of us gave them plenty of room. Nobody complained about the crowded conditions, even when Craig hit a few bumps going too fast.

  Neither my mom, nor Dr. Jerrod recognized the girl, so I took her picture to show Sheriff Lewis as they bundled her off to Dr. Jerrod’s home.

  My guys and I mounted back up and went back to pick up Ben and Zeke.

  Ben and Zeke removed everything useful from the target house into a stack of plastic bags and were waiting for us. Only my fear the woods would catch fire kept me from torching the house on our way out. We dropped Buzzer off at the middle school with everything but the drugs and went on to see Sheriff Lewis.

  They transferred most of the useful items from the pharmacy into the jail area by the time we got there.

  When I showed Sheriff Lewis the girl’s picture, I knew things just got worse.

  He found her address on an old printout. He told us her parents would never allow her to be taken without a fight.

  I wanted to finish this and agreed to check on them. The best we could hope for was to find the girl’s parents unharmed but desperate to find her. Sheriff Lewis pretty well dashed that by mentioning the family just bought a new white twin-cab pickup.

  I suspected we would never know exactly what transpired, but we needed to check.

  We spotted a ratty car abandoned on the road near the girl’s address. If we could check registrations, it likely belonged to our murderers. I really wished they died a lot harder than they did.

  No smoke wafted from the chimney. Front door not closed completely.

  The odor of decomposition confirmed what we expected to find. We still cleared the building, treating it like a tactical exercise. The kids’ parents died at the front door. If they were armed, the murderers took their weapons. Craig checked for useful stuff while I went into the girl’s bedroom to retrieve some clothes and items which might help her recovery.

  Ben brought me a garbage sack, which I packed with the same kind of possessions I thought Jennifer would need, in this crappy new world. Some books, her
jewelry box, a fluffy bear, boots and shoes, underwear, clothing, and a winter coat.

  There was nothing we could do for her family, so we left to return to the justice center. I showed Sheriff Lewis the pictures. He confirmed their identities. I guess after killing the couple in cold blood then kidnapping and raping the kid, it was an easy next step to murder a sheriff’s deputy.

  The sheriff’s deputies seemed emboldened by the death of Deputy Jenson’s murderers. They were suddenly eager to move strategic supplies to the jail.

  My dad understood how sick I was. He made us fuel our Humvee and return to the valley. I thought about objecting, but I just didn’t have the juice.

  My guys were unnaturally quiet. I knew a good leader would find something to say. I just couldn’t think of anything. Until the deputy was murdered, this was just an exercise. Now it felt all too real. For many, the veneer of civilization was fragile.