Timberline

by T J Reeder

  I could not believe we had made it past that bad place in the road with such ease. And I was very glad to wipe out those bastards who were killing and robbing people just trying to get to safety. What is wrong with us as a people?

  Sandy and I sat here talking quietly about all these things. I have no idea how to answer any of these questions. I have no idea where we went wrong as a people, or if we did. Maybe these scum have always been there but just kept quiet, and now the door was opened and they feel free to rape, murder, steal.

  I do know one thing. After we get home and I see for myself that my people are safe, I intend to head back out with anybody who’s willing to go and can shoot. I want to send as many of these scum to hell as I can. I know now that I can’t just hunker down at the homestead while my country dies.

  I’m really not good at much but I can shoot. I’m not a mechanic nor a farmer. Nope- I’m a shooter, so that’s what I’m gonna do, with a few good friends.

  Sandy of course, said that if I tried to leave her behind she would shoot me herself. Must be love! And love is for sure blind!

  I’m feeling much better now that I know what I’m gonna do, and as soon as I can get organized we will be heading back out on the road and just hunt. I think the game will be plentiful.

  Sandy said she was all for it because she would rather be out on the hunt then sitting in a compound milking a goat. I had to agree with that.

  We rolled on talking our way across New Mexico heading for Texas. Amarillo was around 290 miles IF we went that way; I know we have made it this far because the route was out in the rural areas for the most part, so avoiding any larger city was on my list.

  We were very lucky to get past Albuquerque the way we did. Poor training and poor motivation is what helped us with that, and the fact those ass-wipes hadn’t met anybody who could shoot back, so it gave them a false opinion of just how good they weren’t.

  We were coming up on Santa Rosa New Mexico, which is close to 5,000 ft. elevation. So many people think of this part of New Mexico as a hot desert area and are shocked when they find out how cold it is in the winter. I was hoping the small western town was held by the local folks and had held out against raiders. And, of course, would allow us to pass.

  Santa Rosa, being only about two hours from Albuquerque might have had problems. And we would know pretty damn quick. But we would hole up and wait for full daylight so we could glass the area.

  We found an exit to a dirt track leading off the highway and out into the hills. We followed it, and when it split we went off more or less toward Santa Rosa. At last we saw a hill to our left that had to look down on the town, so we parked as close as we could. We took time to unload the stock and gave them hay and water to keep them happy.

  We took blankets and the spotting scope and climbed the hill. The valley spread out in front of us with the first off-ramp less than 400 yards away! Had we driven around this hill we would have ended up right on top of the ramp! We could see a fire and a few people moving around it. We figured with full daylight just minutes away they were starting their day.

  Thirty minutes later it was light enough to see quite well. Being aware of the rising sun and the lens of the scope I set it up and let Sandy use it. I had my 10 power binoks. We watched the guard shift preparing to be relieved. Their camp was clean and they were washing up and brushing their teeth- all signs of good leadership and moral. I was impressed. I figured we would head in as soon as we could and be there when their relief showed up. If it went well, they would escort us into town.

  We headed back to the truck, loaded the animals and were rolling back the way we came in less than thirty minutes. I set the flashers to blinking, and drove slowly toward the ramp but stopped still on the roadway.

  We had been spotted as soon as we were in sight, and now they were watching us as we had them. We got out of the truck, stood by the open doors and waited. Soon a rider on a dirt bike came out and rode down to us, stopping by a vehicle left on the foot of the ramp; obviously as cover for occasions like this.

  The man looked at us for a bit, then looked over the rig, then walked closer and said, “Howdy.” I had to smile because this was a Texan if I ever saw or heard one. I asked what a nice Texas boy was doing here with these lesser beings. He laughed out loud and walked over with his hand out and said his name was Willy Bean the great great-grandson of Judge Roy Bean, causing me to laugh again.

  I said, “Yep, and I’ll bet ya got a nice used horse you’d sell me, right?” Now he laughed. I introduced myself and Sandy and he took his Stetson off and shook hands with her, then me.

  Another bike came down the ramp with two men on it, but when it arrived I realized one was a woman. The couple introduced themselves as Mary and Mark Anderson. I explained where we were coming from and where we were going and that we could use some diesel if they could spare any.

  We were invited to follow them into town and meet with the committee. Willy walked over and looked at the stock and said, “Nice animals! Wanna sell ‘em?” I laughed and said, “Nope. And yours is about the forth offer we’ve had to turn down.”

  We loaded up, followed them up the ramp, and right on into the town. We were met by several people who turned out to be the leaders of the town, and after introductions we were offered coffee and pie and the chance to tell them what was going on out in the country as they didn’t have much information.

  We spent over an hour telling them what we knew and had done. They were very interested in the rabble in Albuquerque. We had nothing to tell them since we only saw a few people and we killed them.

  These folks had heard some real horror stories from the few people who had made it out. After talking a while longer we made a deal for some diesel by trading some ammo for it. They were OK for food and weapons but short on ammo. I was having some thoughts. I asked how many people they had that not only could fight, but would? They said at least five hundred people who were capable of holding their own, and they had ongoing training that was turning out even more. Willy Bean asked why I was asking and what I had in mind.

  I told them my plan to get home and make sure my folks were safe, rest up , gear up and form a hunter team and go kill some bad guys. Willy said, “Count me in! I’m ready!”

  And just like that we became an army of three now to make it happen. Willy said he knew a lot of people who would sign up for this fight. I told him to get busy seeing who would.

  We were shown to the local rodeo grounds, and turned Buck and the mob loose on the grass growing in the camping area where they just did their thing. They were the best animals I’d ever owned and I loved watching them. They had become family.

  We fixed a nice dinner and lit the hot water tank and soon were showering. Not together, the shower was full with just her in it. I managed to get in and out without dislocating anything.

  When I came out of the bathroom Sandy was sitting on the bed with a big smile on her face and the big gun case I had forgotten all about. I asked what she had stolen. She said, “Well it’s my gift to you, so if you wanna take it back, I guess it’s ok.”

  I hugged her close and said, “Then you need to let go of my present.” I opened the case and let out a, “WOW!” The case held an AAC 300 blackout AR with suppressor and mounted with the outstanding Trijicon ACOG 4x32 scope.

  This was a sweet combo. I’ve seen one and shot it a few times and loved it, and with the can on it and loaded with the sub sonic heavy bullets it was a silent killer. It was also a select fire weapon meaning full auto when needed. I could see a lot of work for it.

  I asked what other goodies she liberated, and she pulled another case out from hiding. She said she was keeping this one. It was an MP 5/40 meaning it chambered the S&W 40 cal. round. A very sweet weapon, which I was informed I would be teaching her to use. I hated to admit it, but this was the first one I had ever seen much less held in my hands, but I assured her it wouldn’t be a problem to get it doing its thing. It too, had a suppressor with it.
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  Ammo was a problem for the moment since she only got a few hundred for the H&K but the 300 had 1,000 rounds with it, which she liberated also.

  Well, we were going to war and now we were well equipped thanks to a bunch of killers in New Mexico. With these two weapons and the two M16’s we got from the same source, we were doing OK. Now to arm my army, if we ever got one going.

  Morning came along with Willy Bean who showed up and said he had spread the word and there was at least a hundred people who said they would join us in our cleansing sweep.

  I told him to get them organized and we would meet with all of them before we rolled out for home. We set the meeting for late afternoon, and then we’d talk about what it was we were going to do as well as when. Willy showed up with around eighty people- men and women. All armed and looking willing. We gathered under the trees where they all sat down and waited for me to speak.

  Crap, now what was I gonna do? After standing there looking stupid I just started talking about what had happened to me since I woke up in the campground up to where I met Sandy. I asked her to tell her story, which she did. Then we both talked about what we saw and did to get to this point.

  One of the women raised her hand and asked what our plan was. That put the ball into play. I took a deep breath and told them I had seen enough bad shit in the past couple of months. I was fed up with the raping and murdering and I intended to do what I could to stop it.

  The same lady asked how I planned to do that. I thought a moment and smiled and said, “I’m going to go where these bastards are and kill them. If they surrender I’ll hang ‘em. But one way or the other they will cease to exist.” Because we couldn’t start rebuilding until people could work without fear of being murdered for their crops or women and girls.

  With that the lady smiled for the first time and said, “Well, John? I’m your man,” causing a lot of laughing. But it broke the ice, and after that we got to it. They were going to stay here and get ready to roll out. Spending their time looking for diesel powered vehicles that would run, stock piling fuel, food, and camping gear and gathering all the ammo they could find, as well as weapons.

  I told them they had until spring and then we would be back with all the people and vehicles and equipment we could gather. Shortly after that we would roll out to our first objective. Albuquerque was getting a visit. I told them all that Willy was the group leader and to get with him to coordinate and maximize their efforts. I sent them to get started and asked Willy to stay behind for a bit to develop a plan of action for him to use.

  The first thing on my mind was that he work on looking for new diesel trucks and the parts to get them running. I gave him the list of parts they would need, and some of the things I learned when our truck was worked on in Idaho.

  I told him to try and find weapons that used the same ammo if at all possible and to standardize with 223, 7.62x39, 308, and barring that anything that would shoot was fine, until we could capture enough weapons to arm everybody the same. Handguns were everybody’s choice, as were knives. I told him to expect some kind of word from me as time moved on. How or what, I had no idea yet, but I’d be working on it for damn sure. Good Communications were a must have.

  We spent a quiet night and were up early; fed and loaded by good light. Willy and what looked like the entire ‘Battle Group’ were at the roadblock to see us off. With much hand shaking and good lucks we headed out.

  We had decided to take highway 84 to Clovis, New Mexico, then into Texas. A good plan, but of course I hadn’t counted on getting shot in the ass! We weren’t half way to Clovis when we hit an ambush at one of those small ranch type roads in the middle of nowhere.

  It was my fault because I was so wrapped up in my own superiority and brilliance that I was asleep at the switch. We were just driving along, head up my ass and a bullet hit the windshield.

  Well that woke me up to the fact that several vehicles were rolling out to block the road. With no time to think and working on pure survival instinct, I just floored it and hit the off ramp which they seemed to have ignored or were funneling us into a trap.

  But with nowhere to go that was it. While I was star gazing and then crapping my pants Sandy had rolled over into the back seat area, dropped the window and was spraying them with her new .40 cal. hose, and a damn good job she was doing. I saw several falling either hit or scared shitless!

  Then I was too busy driving to watch. Sandy was hanging half out of the truck still shooting at them. I headed for a boulder pile ahead of us about a mile away. I could see their vehicles pulling out chasing us.

  The boulder pile was our best hope, and it would be close. Sandy was busy grabbing our weapons and getting ready to bail out. I yelled that I was going to pull the rig around behind the boulders to protect the animals. She yelled back to slow down before I made the turn.

  I hated to do it but she was right, so I hit the brakes and she bailed out loaded for bear. I kept rolling on around the rocks and saw her in the rearview running thru the dust cloud.

  On the other side of the rocks I found a narrow path that rolled right into them. It looked like a place the local kids used for a party spot, but it was now our ‘Fort Apache’. I hit the ground running with the M-16 and a bag full of mags.

  I wasn’t halfway thru the boulders when I heard Sandy rip thru a full mag on full auto. Then I was lying beside her looking down on a wild mess. She had caught them just as they piled out and started for the rocks.

  The last thing these turds expected was full auto and it showed. She had got them all in a bunch and just shot the hell out of them. I opened up and sprayed them again and Sandy hit them while I was reloading.

  The survivors found cover and started shooting back, causing bullets to ricochet all over the place. I told her to keep them pinned, left my rifle with her and headed back to the truck. I grabbed my 308 and ammo bag and headed up higher into the rock pile, where I found a spot looking right down their throats. I spent a few minutes looking for the leader and finally spotted him yelling orders from behind a truck where he believed he was safe. He was wrong.

  Just before I fired, I remembered the setting on the scope from the ranch house near Shiprock. After looking at the distance to the leader of the scum pack, I figured I’d just hold on his belly and let the bullet do what it would.

  I fired the shot and he was gone from sight. I knew he was down, because I heard the slap of the bullet. So I looked for more targets and nailed another one.

  They finally spotted me and opened up with everything they had. All I could do was get as low as possible and hope. I should have either hoped harder or dug a hole since bullets were hammering the rocks like a jackhammer when I felt a slam into my right ass cheek that felt like it broke my hip.

  Sandy was still hammering them, so I shook it off, moved over a bit and looked thru two rocks to see the few survivors leapfrogging back to their vehicles.

  I got off three more shots and hit one, who fell into an open door and was dragged in. Then in a cloud of dust they were gone, leaving a lot of dead bodies behind.

  Sandy eased up and looked around for me. I waved my hand and she headed around to me and went apeshit when she saw the blood. After a minute she stopped and got busy.

  She was going to cut my pants off but I rolled enough to ease the belt and buttons. She pulled them down and let out a loud moan, which didn’t make me feel too good.

  She said the bullet had made a bigger hole then it should, so I told her it had hit a rock and turned sideways which was good and bad in that the entry hole was bigger, but a straight on hit would have destroyed my hip joint. I felt lucky?

  She got the first aid kit and washed it with Hydrogen Peroxide and felt around the edge of the hole, but couldn’t feel the bullet. I was really having trouble with the pain, so she got the JW bottle and I took a swig. It didn’t really help but I felt better for it.

  She tried to move me but that wasn’t a good thing, so we talked it over and decided that
the best plan was for her to go back to Santa Rosa and get some help… like a doctor. She agreed and said on her bike she could be there damn fast and none of the scumbag vehicles were gonna catch her.

  I hated it. I thought if we waited I might be able to move a bit but we both knew I was wrong.

  She planned to wait until dark and then head out. First, she took the Ruger 10-22 and from a safe spot put a bullet in the head of all the bodies and then checked them again.

  She gathered all their weapons and piled them by the truck, let the animals out and fed and watered them. She was able to move the truck and trailer to block the way into the clearing so they couldn’t stray.

  She looked around and found a place I could watch the clearing and also see anybody heading this way. I wanted her to take the night viz but she said no, I might need them. She was right as usual. She left me her 16 and mine and loaded all the empty mags and left them. She also piled up more rocks around me and got my bed roll to lie on and blankets to cover me. By the time it was getting dark she was ready to go. MP5 loaded with all her mags full and her gold cup. She didn’t look scared or worried but that was OK, ‘cause I was doing it for both of us.