Masters of Mayhem

by Franklin Horton

  “Been a while since I’ve had to step over a dead body if that’s what you’re asking,” Doc Marty said. “I assume whoever did this probably won’t be caught?”

  Conor looked around at the beautiful farm. He couldn’t help but remember how positive this family had been even in the face of disaster. Sure, Johnny was aggravated about people trying to steal livestock but he seemed to be the kind of man who approached each day with a decent attitude, regardless of what lay before him. Most days Conor considered himself to be that kind of man as well.

  “I’ll catch them,” Conor said. “I think I know where to start. When I find them, I’ll set an example. The Mad Mick will earn his name again.”

  16

  Barb, Shannon, and Ragus sat around the kitchen table with a stack of paper and permanent markers looking like a group of children coloring pictures for their parents. The radio on the counter crackled and Barb heard her name gasped in a desperate tone that terrified her to her core. She shot to her feet, knocking over her chair, and clutched the radio.

  “Dad? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine,” Conor said. “I’ve been trying to get you on the radio but it’s been hard to get a signal. Can you hear me clearly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to give you a set of instructions and I want them written down, okay?”

  Barb gestured at Ragus. He nodded, pulling a blank sheet of paper in front of him and waiting.

  “We’re ready,” she said.

  “I need three horses saddled and ready to go. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. I want them ready when I get there. One is for you, Barb. The other for Shannon.”

  “Why?”

  “No talk,” Conor replied. “Just listen. I need Shannon to get in her dad’s gear and get a field surgical kit, IV antibiotics, and his emergency medical bag. I need that strapped onto one of the horses and ready to go.”

  “Is my dad okay?” Shannon shrieked, standing up from the table, closing in on hysteria with astonishing speed.

  “Shannon is concerned about her father,” Barb relayed, not taking her eyes off the girl. She intentionally did not ask if he was dead or injured.

  “He’s fine. We have other injured.”

  Shannon settled back down into her seat, breathing hard, but her panic subsiding. Ragus reached over and put an arm around her. Barb rolled her eyes.

  “You still receiving me?” Conor asked.

  “Loud and clear,” Barb said. “Keep going.”

  “I need you and Shannon both dressed and geared up. We’ll talk weapons when I get there.”

  “What about me?” Ragus asked.

  “Ragus, too?” Barb relayed into the radio.

  “No,” Conor said. “We’ll discuss when I get there. Over and out.”

  Barb replaced the radio on the counter. She looked at her wide-eyed companions and clapped her hands to break their trance. “You heard him. Let’s get cracking. There’s shit to be done.”

  They were anxiously awaiting Conor when he galloped through the gate, his horse sweating and frothing. The light of day was already fading but there was enough that the three folks waiting on him could see his blood-stained clothing.

  “Where’s my dad?” Shannon asked. “You promise that’s not his blood?”

  Conor strode toward her and placed a hand on each shoulder, looking her in the eyes. “Your dad is fine. We found a family that’s been attacked. The two men are severely injured. One woman is dead, the other missing. Your dad is doing all he can to try and save the injured men but he doesn’t have all of the supplies he needs. Did you guys do what I asked?”

  “We did,” Barb replied.

  “Why am I not going?” Ragus asked.

  “This is not up for argument or debate. Here’s the assignments. Shannon, you’re going with us to assist your dad on medical. He’s overwhelmed and needs someone he can work with at his side.”

  Conor could see a look of fear flash across her face, uncertainty at what lay ahead of her. He suspected she’d never been in circumstances like this before. This was where they all, including Shannon herself, would find out what she was made of.

  “Ragus, I need you to guard the compound. Johnny Jacks’ house was hit. It looks like a robbery. I’m afraid to leave the compound unattended. I need on you on active defense. While I’m gearing up, I want Barb to set you up with an M1A with a night vision scope. We’re going to put glint tape on our gear so watch for that. You see that reflection, do not shoot. Got it?”

  Ragus nodded. If he was pissed at not being able to go on the mission, he choked it down. Conor was pleased with that. It was a sign of maturity. The boy was beginning to understand that every role was important to the success of an operation.

  “What about me?” Barb asked.

  “Set Ragus up with the rifle I mentioned. Make sure Shannon is squared away with a primary and secondary weapon. Girl, do you have personal weapons?”

  Shannon nodded.

  “You know how to run them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then get a rifle and pistol. A dozen spare mags for the rifle and a half-dozen for the pistol.”

  “Got it.”

  Conor took a deep breath. “Barb, once we have Shannon and the med gear delivered to Johnny’s farm, you and I are going to run a little recon operation.”

  Barb raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “I may know who did this,” Conor said. “I don’t want to point any fingers too soon but I was over there when Johnny sold some horses to a group of strangers. He was a bit anxious about meeting up with them because there were a lot of them and they weren’t from around here. He wanted backup and I was glad to provide it. Those guys didn’t set off my radar when I met them but they definitely weren’t friendly.”

  “You think they decided to come back for more horses?” Barb asked.

  “Or they decided they needed some cattle to feed their families.”

  “You sure these are the right people?” Barb asked.

  “I honestly don’t know but it’s the only place I know to start looking,” Conor said. “There’s a girl missing. Johnny’s daughter-in-law. She could be lying dead some place and we just haven’t found her yet.”

  “Or they could have her,” Barb finished.

  Conor met his daughter’s eye, leaving unsaid that she knew what that was like. She did know and she didn’t want any other young woman to have to go through that. The part she’d never told anyone was that she wasn’t done yet taking vengeance on men who stole women.

  “Gear up appropriately,” Conor said. “Close quarters weapons, rations, helmet with night vision, and body armor. Soup with all the fixings.”

  Barb spun and jogged off.

  “We leave in fifteen minutes,” Conor called after her.

  The night was cold with a damp wind that foreshadowed ugly weather. There were few stars visible with the naked eye. Conor was pleased to find that Doc Marty had included night vision and bump helmets in the equipment he brought with him. That meant they’d be able to travel without headlamps. Conor always hated moving in the night with a light on his head, feeling like it presented a glowing target to anyone wanting to put a bullet in him. He had a good night vision for himself and for Barb but those two sets were their only wearable night vision. Everything else was built into a rifle scope, like the one Barb had set Ragus up with.

  “This is a little weird,” Shannon said, uncomfortable at being on the back of the trotting horse with her perspective altered by the night vision.

  “You get used to it,” Conor said.

  “Or you fall, busting both your ass and gear you can’t replace,” Barb added.

  “Thanks for the encouragement,” Shannon replied.

  Barb grinned. “Not a problem.”

  The ride seemed to take forever. Conor pressed them to move quickly but he was afraid to go too fast. It was unfamiliar road to the girls and slick with a heavy dew. The horses had slipped several
times just to remind him of the possibility. Eventually they reached the bottom of the ridge and sometime after that they turned off onto Johnny’s road.

  Conor had closed the gate when he left. He awkwardly opened it from horseback, finding the move to not be as easy as it seemed in the movies. He prompted Barb and Shannon to ride through and then he closed it.

  “Does Marty have a radio?” Barb asked.

  “No, we only took one with us,” Conor said. “We didn’t plan to separate.”

  “Did you arrange a signal?”

  “No. I just told him I’d holler out as I approached.”

  Barb shook her head, finding the move awkward with the heavy helmet and goggles. “Couple of big time operators, aren’t you?”

  Conor ignored her, urging his horse into a run. The girls fell in behind him. At the house he dismounted and tied his horse off to the porch rail.

  “Doc, it’s me. Don’t shoot. I have Shannon and Barb with me.”

  There was a sharp flicker of light inside, probably from a headlamp.

  “Make sure your night vision is turned off,” Conor ordered.

  Barb and Shannon turned their switches and Conor swung his up out of the way. In a moment the front door swung open and Doc Marty stepped out. Shannon ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. From over her shoulder, the dentist glared at Conor.

  “You had to bring her into this mess?”

  “I needed someone to go with me and someone to help you. Would you rather I left her there alone at the compound with no way to communicate with us?”

  “She’d have been safe,” Doc said angrily.

  “I’d have been terrified,” Shannon replied. “I was already scared to death when Conor came back alone covered in blood. I thought something happened to you.”

  Doc Marty still looked unhappy about the situation. “There’s nothing to be done about it now. You all get in here and help me get this gear set up.”

  They worked together to get the medical gear off Shannon’s horse and into the house. Doc Marty tore into it immediately, sorting through vials of medications, pulling out some and tossing others back.

  “How are they doing?” Conor asked.

  Doc Marty shrugged. “They’re both still alive. Jason regained consciousness long enough to throw up some blood and some teeth. I think he’s got a concussion and I’m going to have to put a lot of stitches in him. His mouth is a wreck. I’ve got Johnny’s bleeding stopped but I need to make sure he doesn’t have any bullets still in him. He’ll start bleeding again when I start poking around. Hopefully I can get him stabilized now that I have some supplies.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Shannon asked.

  Doc Marty looked at his daughter very seriously. “These men are in awful shape. If it’s too much for you, just say so.”

  “I want to help.”

  “All right. Then let’s get these supplies in there where they’re close at hand. I need to get an IV in the older man and I’ll inject some pain meds in the younger man. Then we’re going to check for bullets and sew up some wounds.”

  Shannon nodded, trying to reassure her father. “I can do it, Dad.”

  “I know you can, Shannon,” Conor said. “You’re tougher than you think you are. Do you still have the radio I gave you?”

  Shannon nodded, checking a pocket on her vest. “Right here.”

  “Good,” Conor said. “Barb and I are going to look for Jason’s wife. When we make it back, which may after daylight tomorrow, we’ll radio you. You guys stay here, keep a lookout. Stay alert in case those people come back to steal more than livestock.”

  Shannon’s eyes got wide, previously unaware that this was even a possibility.

  “You keep your gun handy at all times,” her dad said. “Do not take it off. Do you have a round chambered?”

  Shannon nodded. “Always.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Maybe you should get some blankets and make some blackout curtains,” Barb suggested. “Then you don’t have to worry about the light drawing attention.”

  “Good call,” Doc Marty said. “We’ll do that.”

  “We’re out of here,” Conor said. “You guys be careful.”

  “You be careful, too,” Doc Marty said. “You’re the ones heading into danger.”

  “I’m not worried,” Conor said. “I have Barb with me. It’s the other guys who should be worried.”

  17

  Conor had no way of knowing exactly where Wayne and his men were camping. He hadn’t asked and they hadn’t offered, though he had an idea of where to start. The men said they’d come south from Detroit. In these mountains, roads were difficult to build so there weren’t very many of them. Often they were just railroad beds where the tracks and ties had been pulled up. Many of the bridges and tunnels were still single lanes installed by the railroad in the early 20th century.

  That limited the options. There was only one main road that came through the area from Detroit. Likewise, there was only one path between Johnny’s house and that road. The odds told him that somewhere along that road, or not far off it, he’d find Wayne’s camp. With those men not knowing the area, it was unlikely they’d stray too far away from the main thoroughfare.

  There was a freedom in travelling at night that Conor didn’t feel during the day. In the world of light, he was always worried about who watched from the shadows or if anyone had him in the crosshairs of their rifle scope. At night that was absent. There were so few people with night vision that he felt comfortable traveling down the middle of the road with his horse at a trot. If there were people lying in wait, ready to hit him and Barb with spotlights, it was likely he would see them first. They could either take cover or eliminate the threat.

  They passed deer grazing the grassy shoulders and in the yards of dark homes. They saw raccoons tottering and scavenging. Though they never made an appearance, the pair heard the unsettling howl of coyotes resounding from the high ridges in the sparsely-populated area. In the best of times, residents of these mountain communities were an hour away from a grocery store, fast food, or a doctor. Homes were crowded in clusters on the rare pockets of inhabitable land, but those clusters could be miles apart.

  Conor held out a hand, urging Barb to stop. “According to the GPS, the intersection we’re approaching is about two miles from the highway. I expect those guys will be somewhere in the next two miles. There were a lot of them so I expect they’ll either be occupying a large field, like a park, or more likely a building with enough room for them.”

  “Are these switched-on folks?”

  “They had weapons but I didn’t get a look at any other gear. I would assume they’re shooters with no training or tactical experience. I doubt they have night vision or thermal but don’t rely on that.”

  Barb double-checked her weapons, confirmed by feel that her weapon had a round in the chamber, and ejected her mag to confirm, again by feel, that it was full, then checked her handgun. She and Conor were both carrying suppressed .300 Blackouts so they could share mags if they had to.

  “Single file from here on out,” Conor said, checking his weapons also.

  He moved forward and Barb fell in behind him. They passed a hydraulic repair shop and saw no indications of activity there. Just beyond it was a small cluster of houses and the smell of wood smoke. They came upon an automotive repair shop located in a cinderblock building that likely dated back to the 1940s, an antique Pepsi ad painted on its side. The rusting shells of disused vehicles were pushed back into the hillside, slowly being raked into the earth by fingers of kudzu.

  Conor held out his hand again and stopped his horse. He slid out of the saddle and led his horse back to Barb. He gestured at her to move off the road. Only then did he speak.

  “There’s trash everywhere up ahead, scattered all over the road. It’s not a sure thing but it’s the only evidence I’ve seen so far that we may be approaching a camp. Let’s stash these horses and move forward on foot.”r />
  Barb slid off her own horse, and she and Conor led them into the tall weeds off the shoulder of the road, tying them to the low branches of a poplar tree.

  “Hopefully they’ll stay quiet,” Barb whispered.

  Conor nodded. “A group this size may have a sentry or two. Our first task is to locate the sentry and take him quietly. We bring him back to this point and question him about the missing girl.”

  “What if he won’t talk?” Barb asked.

  “He’ll talk.”

  “What if he denies it?”

  “We play it by ear,” Conor said. “Just follow my lead.”

  They slipped back onto the road and moved forward, stepping around anything in their path that would make noise. They went forty feet, reaching the point where Conor first noticed an increase in roadside trash. The smell of wood smoke was strong here but it was hard to tell where it was coming from in the dark. Likewise, it was hard to judge distance by smell. The stronger smell could be because they were closer to the source or could simply be because of a shift in the wind. It was unreliable information.

  They came upon more reliable information shortly. In the distance they saw another block building, firelight flickering from the recesses of a rusty metal drum. Trash was everywhere.

  Conor touched Barb lightly on the shoulder. “That’s the volunteer fire hall. It’s marked on my map.”

  “If they’re staying there, where are the horses?” Barb whispered.

  “Maybe they’re around back so they’re not visible from the road.”

  “Makes sense. They may have a sentry on them. That would be one of the most valuable assets they have.”

  “There’s one up front somewhere,” Conor said. “That fire is probably for warming hands, not creating a cozy atmosphere.” He brought out a pair of binoculars and viewed them through his night vision.

  “Anything?”

  “Not yet.” Conor continued to scan. There were empty folding chairs all over the parking lot and several van seats used as couches. There was a big fire pit at the epicenter of the parking lot and picnic tables had been dragged nearby. “This has to be them.”