Fire From the Sky: Friendly Fire

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Fire From the Sky: Friendly Fire Page 4

by N. C. Reed


  “Much better,” he smiled at her. Xavier's smile was always scary, even when you were his friend. This woman was not his friend.

  “Who are you, and what do you want with us?” Clay demanded.

  “Fuck you!” the woman managed to spit in more or less his direction. Xavier slapped her again, with his palm, this time.

  “Who are you, and what do you want with us?” Clay repeated, as if she had never spoken.

  “Go fuck yourselves!” the woman screamed, earning her another backhand.

  “I don't have the patience for this right now,” Clay admitted. “Might want to drag her out here in the open before she fouls your ride,” he told Xavier, who nodded. Taking the woman by what was left of her hair, he pulled her down the ramp and onto the grass, ignoring her screams of pain. She stopped struggling halfway down the ramp, realizing all she was doing was hurting herself. Once she was on the grass and fully out of the vehicle, Xavier released her hair and stepped back.

  “Gunner, you copy?” Clay called for Zach.

  “Go for Gunner,” came the immediate reply.

  “I need you behind Building Two, where we parked the new arrivals. Gear up.”

  “Be there in ten,” Zach promised.

  “Gunner?” Shane asked. He was asking a lot of one word questions today it seemed.

  “One of our new hires,” Clay grinned. “We replaced you with a younger, smarter model,” he gouged.

  “Wouldn't take much,” Xavier joined in.

  “Funny guys, the both o' ya,” Shane shot back, though without heat.

  “You two go ahead and get clean and get chow,” Clay ordered. “I’ll stand by here until Gunner arrives. He can watch over our little beauty here until we decide what to do with her.”

  “Thanks, Boss,” Shane readily agreed and Xavier nodded his thanks as the two departed, not quite running.

  “So, you sound like you'd be from Alabama,” Clay said to the woman once his two friends were on their way.

  “I ain't telling you shit!” the woman screeched.

  “Yeah, you will,” Clay replied simply. “But I’ll give you some time to think it over, first. Reason I said that, though, is you ain't the first person from Alabama we've seen up here. We had a group through here a while back driving an old Chevy with an Alabama plate. Wasn't much left of the plate, mind, but the 'of Dixie' part of an Alabama plate was visible.

  This apparently meant something to the woman, though she tried to hide it.

  “Based on your reaction, I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that was part of your outfit,” Clay continued. “Which means there's definitely more of you, and you're spreading yourselves out. Be interesting to hear what you have to say.”

  “I ain't saying shit!” the woman repeated.

  “Uh huh,” Clay smiled at her. “I've actually heard that before, believe it or not. I’ll give you a day of laying around, so to speak, before I ask you anything else. Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything before I go?” Clay sounded as if he were talking to an invited guest.

  “What?” This question threw the woman off balance and she struggled to regain it.

  “Just kidding,” Clay chuckled as the sound of an approaching ATV could be heard. “I'm going to leave you here until tomorrow so I know where to find you. Meanwhile, you can rethink that 'go fuck yourself' policy of yours.”

  Before she could reply a side-by-side pulled up with a man and a woman inside, both wearing military gear.

  “Sup, Boss?” Zach asked as he dismounted.

  “Sorry to do this to you bud, but I need you to stand guard here for a bit,” Clay replied. “We’ll make some more permanent arrangements after everyone gets settled, but for now, let her stay just like this. No one is to approach her or speak to her, and she's not to be let loose under any circumstance.”

  “I need to go to the bathroom!” the woman screeched at him upon hearing this.

  “Swallow it,” Clay replied calmly. “No one,” he repeated to Zach.

  “Got it, Boss,” Zach replied easily.

  “Give me a ride?” Clay asked the woman behind the wheel of the ATV.

  “Sure thing,” she nodded. “See you later,” she added to the teen, who winked and nodded before settling himself onto the ground in the shade of the armored car.

  “I’ll send someone out to give her some water after a while,” Clay told him. “See ya.”

  “Let me loose from here!” the woman demanded. Her only answer was a snort. She couldn't see him since he'd sat down outside her view.

  “Now!” she yelled.

  “Be right there,” he replied. Instead he concentrated on getting comfortable.

  ***

  “Who is she?” Vicki asked as she carried Clay to the front of Building Two.

  “Her group was following Shane's outfit,” Clay replied. “Two of Shane's men ambushed her group and took her prisoner. She was apparently the only survivor. I'm thinking she's part of the same outfit as our backdoor guests we had not long ago. The people that had that antique MG?” he clarified.

  “Ah,” Vicki nodded. “So I take it we’ll try and find out where the rest are?”

  “Oh, we’ll find out,” Clay assured her. “She can talk to me, or she can talk to X. She'd rather talk to me, though she doesn't know that yet.”

  “X?”

  “Xavier,” Clay explained as they neared the front of Building Two. “Xavier Adair. One of the guys from my old outfit that just arrived a little while ago.”

  “I like those Guardians,” Vicki nodded. “Nice to have.”

  “They sound wore down, but assuming Jake can rebuild them, I agree,” Clay nodded as the ATV stopped at their destination. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Anytime,” Vicki smiled.

  “Going back and sit with Zach?” Clay asked innocently, almost laughing at the blush that spread across Vicki's face.

  “I might,” she admitted.

  “Ignore her, and tell Zach the same, though I imagine he is anyway,” Clay ordered. “Isolate her. Pretend she doesn't exist, even. Won't take long for her to break I'd say.”

  “Will do,” Vicki nodded, glad for the change of subject.

  “And behave,” Clay jabbed just before she could fully relax. Her face turned red again as Clay chuckled and walked inside before she could splutter a reply.

  Inside, Clay saw his nephew waiting.

  “Check this out,” he handed over the radio book Xavier had given him. “One of my guys that got here today took this from someone who tried to ambush them. There are radio frequencies and codes in here along with various other information. Start trying to monitor these but do not try to make contact. These people are absolutely an enemy and we will not try to establish contact under any circumstances.”

  “Sweet!” Deuce nodded, accepting the book. “Want to know if we hear anything, or just want us to record?”

  “Both,” Clay replied. “Use your own judgment as to how important anything you hear is, but record it just the same so we can listen later. We have a lot going on today and I may not can get free right away to come hear.”

  “Got it,” Deuce nodded. He took the book and went inside the radio room, closing the door behind him. That done, Clay went in search of Jose to make sure everything else was going smoothly.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It was a grateful group of people who had descended the stairs from the upstairs bathrooms to find an entire table full of cooked food that didn't come from a plastic bag waiting for them.

  “Help yourselves and dig in,” Lainie told them as she and Angela checked the table over. Eager hands grabbed paper plates and began to fill them with what to them were delicacies long lost behind them.

  Clay decided that hot water and soap had been good to the group, and knew that hot food and a good night of rest would be even better. He'd been in their shoes, on edge and in constant danger for days at a time. It wore on you very quickly.

  “They're hungry,” Laini
e smiled at him slightly, watching the small group eat.

  “They aren't starving, but they're hungry for real food,” Clay nodded. “Means they've probably been living off MREs for a while. They're filling, and will keep you going, but some of them . . . well, let’s just say if you don't get the ones that taste like cardboard, you give more thanks,” he winked.

  “Ugh,” Lainie made a face, wrinkling her nose.

  “Exactly,” Clay nodded in agreement.

  For half-an-hour they watched the newcomers eat, all of them fixing a second plate and few, after ensuring it was okay, a third. All of them were extremely grateful for the food and repeatedly told Angela, Lainie and Martina Sanchez that. All three enjoyed seeing the group eat their fill.

  Finally Shane stood up and the talk among the group died down as all of them turned to look toward him.

  “I think it's about time that introductions are in order,” Shane announced. “First off, though,” he turned to Angela, Lainie and Martina. “Ladies, that was a wonderful meal, and far better than we've had access to in . . . it seems like a long time,” he settled for saying.

  “We're glad you enjoyed yourselves,” Angela answered for them. Lainie and Martina nodded their agreement.

  “Now, Bossman, or Clay, already knows us,” Shane indicated himself and his old teammates. “But no one else will, so I'm not going to skip anyone. However, I'm going to leave it up to you all to get to know our hosts and tell them about yourselves and what you can do to add to the community. Make no mistake, people; this is the end of the line. We're not going any further. This is home.” He turned to Clay.

  “Boss, do you want to start?” Clay stepped forward, nodding.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Clayton Sanders. I answer to Bossman from the old days, just like all of us answer to call signs we earned in the field. I command the security detachment and also own this half of the farm land. This is my mother, Angela, my girlfriend Lainie Harper, and Jose's wife, Martina,” he introduced. “I'm assuming they had help with this feast,” he added and his mother nodded, “but you can meet the rest as we go.

  “My father and grandfather own the other half of the farmland here, and my family and several others live there. On the hill, that way,” he pointed east, “there is another group of buildings we erected after the Storm hit. A square with a central bathhouse and communal kitchen. There are several people living there at present and there is also a small orphanage there with about twenty children and four caretakers.

  “We run a fairly large cattle operation and also plant several acres as well, mostly for silage or bio-diesel. We also planted about thirty acres in gardens this year and so far they're doing well.

  “We were ready for the CME when it hit and had a few hours’ notice thanks to some computer wizardry, so most of our vehicles and electronics were sealed in these buildings and protected from the surge. We have built defensive emplacements all along the perimeter of this farm including defensive towers and bunkers. We've also run field telephones between our radio room and a number of houses as well as all major defense positions.” He paused and surveyed the small group. All were listening intently it seemed.

  “We've been attacked several times since things happened,” he told them. “We were attacked by the former investigator for the Sheriff's office and his posse of idiots. We were later attacked by a group calling themselves the Citizens Committee for Reconstruction, multiple times. And we were attacked once by people who I suspect were part of the same group that was following you.”

  “We were being followed?” a dark-haired woman with a nose ring asked, looking at Shane. “Why didn't you tell us?”

  “No reason to,” Shane shrugged. “There was nothing you could do about it and we needed everyone concentrating on what they were doing. We had come too far to screw up so close to our goal. Besides, X and Kevin took care of it.”

  “We should have been told, Shane,” the short, slightly heavy woman next to the first speaker said sullenly. Her light blonde hair was cut fairly short, though not as short as her . . . Clay had an epiphany about that time, looking at the two women.

  Interesting times ahead, he decided.

  “Anyway,” Clay cut that discussion short. Shane could deal with that on his own time. “We have discovered holes in our preparations and our defenses as we've gone along. We've remedied the problems with our defenses and done what we could to alleviate the shortcomings in our preparations. While we are not nearly as well off as we once were, before the Storm, we are in much better shape than most of the world around us. Which of course means we have problems with people who don't like that much.

  “We've helped where we can, when we can, including taking food to a nearby church that was staging as a shelter after a firefight in the county seat broke out into a huge fire that left many homeless and an unknown number dead. That trip, carrying food and cattle to be butchered to the church I mean, resulted in an attempt to take our farm truck and suggestions that they expected weekly deliveries of food from then forward. One woman complained that we hadn't brought enough, despite the fact that we had almost emptied our canned stores to help them. Needless to say, we've not been back.

  “The truth is we're at a point where we are just above self-sustaining at the moment. Once the gardens and the crops come in, we’ll be in a better position to help those we can, but we've also taken in a large number of people who were caught out by events, including the children in the orphanage and the women who care for them.

  “We can sustain ourselves here, barring disaster, but it's hard work,” he tried to catch each one personally as he swept them with his gaze. “Everyone here works at least two jobs and some work more. And that is over and above anything we want to do on our own. Fortunately, no one job outside our security arrangement and child care is literally a full time job, but it's still hard work. Any of you who have ever worked on a farm know what I'm talking about.”

  One slender young man with blondish hair and tan skin nodded slowly, as did an older black man with graying hair. Another man who was sitting with his arms wrapped around a pretty, dark haired woman in fatigues also nodded.

  “You're all welcome here, since you know these good for nothings,” Clay grinned as he pointed to Shane and the others of his former team, and that got him a laugh from the people he didn't know and jeers from his old teammates. He waited for the laughter to die before continuing.

  “But you will have to work for it,” he warned them all. “We all have to if we're going to make it. That said, none of you will be assigned anything to do for the next three days. Your time is your own to do with as you please. After the trip you've made, you deserve a month off, but we can't take care of so many for that long without help, so . . . sorry,” he grinned, trying to ease the bad news to them.

  “After those three days we’ll be talking to all of you in turn, seeing where your strengths lie and how best to integrate you into our set up. That will include housing, though for now we will likely just let you crash here for a day or so. I've been in your shoes and I know by now you've become dependent on each other being there. I get that. We've all been there too,” he pointed again to Shane and the others.

  “That will also place you here in the building with the best bathroom space for so many, and with the clinic. I know it's been a long trip and some of you may have put off complaining about sickness or injury, but you can't afford to do much of that in the times we're in now. For tonight and tomorrow we’ll bring meals to you here so you can stay together. After that you can decide if you want to join any of us or make out on your own. Either way is okay. No one will take offense if you want to cook for yourselves,” he chuckled and they all laughed again, albeit tiredly.

  “I will add to that by saying we are very fortunate to have some great cooks,” Clay added. “We will try in the next couple days to gather everyone together and let us all make introductions for at least the leaders of the community. Also, we recently decided
to begin having a sort of shindig every month or so, and that's coming up soon. That will be great way for you guys to meet and greet everyone and have a good time doing it. We’ll slaughter and roast a beef over an open fire, though I don't know if we'll have bread this time,” he shot a grin at his mother and then Lainie, both of whom looked unpleasant.

  “Probably not,” he added with a snicker. “So in the meantime, you guys relax and rest. You've come a long way and I'm sure under the worst possible circumstances. I know it will take a few days for it to sink in, but we are fairly well protected here. You're as safe here as we can make you considering the state of the world.

  “And on that note, one last thing,” he decided there was no point in skipping around it. “A few weeks ago the decision was made to train everyone over the age of sixteen that could pass a physical up to a level that would allow them to participate in the defense of this place. Some of you may already have such training and if so, and you can pass the various competency tests, then you won't have to go through the basics anyway.

  “We’ll talk more about all that later though,” he smiled. “For now, rest, relax and take it easy. You've no doubt earned it. Any questions you have we’ll answer at evening mess. Shane?” Clay stepped back, his throat sore from so much talking. He didn't normally have a lot to say.

  “Never heard you say that much at one time,” Shane said, as if reading Clay's mind. “He's usually more the strong, silent and stupid type,” he told his group, eliciting a nasty snicker from Lainie and an outright laugh from Angela and Martina.

  “My own mother,” Clay shook his head sadly, but was unable to hide his grin.

  “You guys heard the man,” Shane told them. “Flake out. God knows you earned it. You deserve it. One thing, though,” he raised a hand. “I know some of you will probably want to head out to the motor homes or the bus, and that's fine, but . . . there's a prisoner at the back of the trail Guardian. She will probably be yelling her head off by now, but ignore it. I don't want any of you to go near her for now. She's the survivor of the group we ambushed that was trailing us. We're going to try and get information out of her later, but for now we're letting her stew. All of us are too tired to worry with her for now, and maybe a little discomfort will loosen her tongue. Anyway, stay clear of her. There's a guard on her anyway, so just ignore her. And with that, head out and unpack, sleep, rest, do laundry or whatever makes you happy. Sergeant Wilcox, Captain Thatcher, Lieutenants Newell and Ledford please stay. Rest of you take off.”

 

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