by A J Newman
Dad replied, “Yep, we do, but that exposes us to crap like them. Let’s roll.”
I saw a red stain on Dad’s shirtsleeve. “Dad, you were hit by a lucky shot from those men I killed. Let me look at it.”
“I did, It’s just a scratch and has stopped bleeding.”
“Damn it, Dad, even a small scratch can get infected,” I said as I tossed him a tube of Neosporin. Then I added, “Dad, we’re going to travel through the suburbs of Nashville and will be sitting ducks on these horses. We need some body armor. Let’s stop at some police stations along the way and try to find some vests.”
Dad was silent for a minute. “It’s too damned hot for body armor.”
I started to say that it was too damned deadly not to wear body armor. "Dad, I wore body armor during my tours in Afghanistan, and it was 984 degrees in the shade. It saved my life several times.”
“Hummmph, 984 degrees. Okay, we’ll drink a lot of water.”
***
The Walker place, Walter Hill, Tennessee.
Ray saw the two men and the vicious dog leave. This pleased him and fit well into his plans. He’d been watching the house for several hours each day, waiting on his chance to attack. He smiled when he thought about how lucky he was to have captured the nun. She was beautiful without the habit on. He’d made her dress in shorts and a halter-top. She was chained to a post in his small living area. She would bring him many days of joy until he captured the other women.
Ray knew he had to do something quickly because they kept adding people to the group. He was thankful most were women and children that could be sold or kept for his own amusement.
Ray wasn’t very smart but did know how animals reacted in the woods when he tracked and killed them. Just as though a mother rabbit leads the predator away to protect the little bunnies, Ray would lead many of them on a wild goose chase and then circle back for the kill. He had thought about nothing else for the past few weeks.
☆
Chapter 17
South of Nashville, Tennessee on Highway 24.
We rode on as though we’d just performed a routine daily task like taking out the garbage. The killing was getting easier by the day, and I hated it. I thought killing would be behind me once I’d left the warzone. Now, the entire world was a warzone. We definitely needed the armor. We made a side trip over to the center of Smyrna to check out the police station but were shocked by what we saw. The entire center of the city had been burned to the ground. We didn’t understand how there could be such utter devastation until I saw the engine and tail assembly of a super jumbo Boing 977 at the southeast side of the town hall. The Fed X jet must have had a full load of fuel when it crashed into the city.
The worst part of what we saw was that people were picking through the burned outbuildings to find valuables and food. Every time someone found something, the crowd gathered around them and fights broke out. We quickly rode away from the area in hopes no one would see us. We were too late. A woman yelled, and every head turned our way. I stopped and reached down to pick MMax up. The streets were littered with glass and jagged metal. He couldn’t avoid being cut if he needed to run full speed.
We rode away at a good trot to avoid hurting the horses, but the crowd was still behind us, and we heard gunshots. A bullet shattered a window in front of us and pissed me off. I stopped and leveled my rifle at them. I took aim and fired three times. The leading three men fell to the ground. All three were gut shot. The vermin kept coming so I shot five more times killing four more of the filthy men and women. The rest tucked tail and disappeared into the shadows. Dad and I headed north on Highway 41 to LaVergne.
LaVergne was a different story. We were met by armed citizens and a Deputy Sheriff. The Deputy Sheriff asked, “Who are you, and why are you trying to enter our city?”
Dad replied, “I’m Zack Walker from Walter Hill, and that’s my son Jason. We’re searching for my other son and his family. They were heading to Walter Hill from St Louis.”
The man had a sour look on his face. “Then you need to be on Highway 24 and get out of our town.”
Before Dad could speak, an old truck drove up. It had the word ‘Sheriff’ painted on the doors. A large man got out and said, “Zack, is my deputy giving you a hard time?”
Dad walked up to the Sheriff. “No, Ezra, he’s just doing his job. My son and I are searching for Michael and his family.”
Ezra said, “Why I haven’t seen your kids since eighth-grade football.”
I looked at the huge black man who had played linebacker for the Nashville Packers and said, “I’m Jason. I played running back for you.”
“I recognized you when I drove up. You’re bigger but look the same. Last I heard, you were killing Arab terrorists over in the sandbox.”
“I killed them all and was sent to Europe to kill more terrorists. We couldn’t kill them fast enough to save Europe,” I replied.
Most Arabs and Muslims were peaceful people. The damned Russian, Syrian, and Iranian governments taught the hatred for the west and supplied the millions of jihadists to the ever-expanding fight for civilization.
Ezra asked, “What can we do for you?”
My Dad said, “We need to borrow some body armor. We’re riding the full length of Highway 24 from Nashville to 57, and every thug and starving person is taking potshots at us.”
Ezra snickered, “Hell, man. I got some extra vests and a couple of old ARs you can have. I can give you about a hundred bullets. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I can spare.”
“Thanks, Ezra. You are a good man,” I said.
Ezra shook our hands. “I have to say, your largest problem will be the people who will shoot your horses just to get some fresh meat. People are starving out there.”
“I guess we’ll have to take our chances.”
Ezra said, “No man left behind. Hooah!”
Dad and I both answered, “Hooah!”
Ezra gave us the arms and equipment, and his wife gave us two bags with a ham, two loaves of homemade bread, and some canned goods. Ezra said, “Can I talk you into spending the night here? I have some JB Black with your name on it.”
Dad replied, “I’d like some whiskey, but I can’t help but think that Michael and his family are in danger and need our help. Thanks for your hospitality, but we really need to go.”
Northwest of Nashville, Tennessee on Highway 24.
I guess the part of our trip that I’ll always dread was the trip through Nashville on Highway 24. We knew from the start, this would be the most dangerous, and even Dad questioned the chance of both of us being killed to save my brother. It’s hard to describe Nashville a few months after the grid went down. Watching a Mad Max movie would help get one ready for the destruction of the city and the deprivation.
The bulletproof vests were hot as Hell and not as good as I had in the Army, but they would stop most handgun and low caliber rifle bullets. I was still used to wearing the equipment and sweating so much you had to drink water constantly or die of dehydration. Dad, on the other hand, bitched about the vests. I know it was mean, but I acted like it was no big deal and told Dad he needed to chill out.
Dad heard me say chill out and said, “I’ll stick your chill out up your …”
We were just northwest of Highway 24 and Highway 65 split when Dad was interrupted by gunfire coming from the western side of Highway 24. We got off the highway and rode down the embankment to a row of stores. Before we could react, several bullets hit a building fifty feet away. Then, bullets hit in front of us. They weren’t aimed at us but had us trapped. I rode to a store and pushed the door open. I jumped off my horse and led him into the building. MMax and Dad followed me into the building, which turned out to be a mattress shop. We took the horses to the back of the store and waited for the gunfire to cease before sneaking out the back door.
The scene in the alley behind the store was sickening. There were a dozen bodies with their arms cut off. A few were still alive but bleeding out. We could
n’t do anything to help the poor wretches, so we got the heck out of there as fast as we could. We found ourselves riding north on Westcap Road with homes dotted on either side. We hit the end of the paved road and continued on a dirt road for several miles until we came to a big house that faced Lickton Pike.
“Son, that home has a pool with a cover on it. The owners didn’t get a chance to uncover it for the summer. Let’s see if any water is left. I don’t trust streams that flow through built-up areas. Our LifeStraws can’t filter out everything. Heavy metals, viruses, and some parasites can get through.”
I laughed. “Dad, you’re preaching to the choir. Our military versions were much better, but we rarely used them. You had a better chance of dying from a case of water dropping on your head than dying of thirst. The Army did a great job of keeping us supplied. We owned the air, but the ground was always shifting sand.”
I took the lead in sweeping the area for people or other dangers. The area was close to the highway but deep in a dense section of woods. I walked around the perimeter while Dad fed the horses. The house was actually on a twenty to thirty-acre estate. There were a large horse barn and a two-acre lake north of the home. The barn was hidden from the home by a double stand of pine trees. The lake looked clean and actually had a hundred foot long white sandy beach complete with a pavilion, dock, and diving board. I could live here. Then I thought, “It’s abandoned. I should talk Dad into moving us up here.”
As has become too frequent, my thoughts of a good life were interrupted by a scream from the woods. “MMax, search.”
I had MMax on a leash and followed closely behind him. We cut across a well-worn path, and MMax doubled back and took it east. We’d only traveled a hundred yards through the brush and woods before MMax stopped and pointed at several people. Two men and a woman were tying a girl’s hands behind her. Another woman lay on the ground. The men had black uniforms and M4 rifles. The rifles were leaning against a tree while they struggled with the belligerent girl.
I told MMax to be quiet and led him closer to the people. The woman kicked one man in the groin, and he fell to the ground. I didn’t expect this, but drew my knife and jumped from the bushes. I grabbed the other man by his face and twisted it sideways as I pulled my knife across his throat. Then I said, “Get her,” to have MMax attack the lady with a gun in her hand. I thought, “Damn, I didn’t see the gun,” as I turned to the man on the ground. He was turned away from me and had both hands holding his groin.
I heard screaming behind me as MMax worked his magic but ignored the noise. The woman must have landed a mighty kick to the man’s privates because he died without ever taking his hands from his groin. I wiped my knife on his shirt and then turned to see the woman trying to beat MMax on the head with her free hand, and MMax using his strength and training to keep her at bay. Hell, most people don’t struggle when a Belgium Malinois clamps his teeth down on their arms.
Her gun lay by her feet, so she dropped down to the ground ignoring the excruciating pain. MMax was a bit smarter than the woman was and only had to drag her a few feet away from the gun, which I retrieved. The two captured women lay on the ground with their hands tied behind them. One said, “Are you going to set us free or take us for your own?”
This kinda caught me in a funny way, and I laughed aloud. The woman said, “That’s not funny, mister. Let us go or shoot us, we’re not going to be anyone’s play toy.”
I laughed and said, “Look, ladies. If you resist kicking me in the nuts, I’ll set you free. The last time I rescued a woman about to be molested, I got stuck with her and can’t get rid of her. So suffice it to say, you are free to go when I release you.”
I cut their bindings and helped them to their feet. “What happened? I think these are FEMA thugs. What did you do to piss them off? What was this woman’s role in abducting you?”
The feisty one said, “We didn’t do anything but tell them to screw themselves when they said we had to relocate to one of their camps. The damned woman tricked us into thinking they were going to help our friend who had been wounded. She finds people for them and is rewarded. They killed the three men we were traveling with, and we quickly figured out what they planned to do to us. That’s when you showed up.”
I walked over to the woman who was still fighting with MMax. “What drugs are you on? No one can take that much pain.”
“Go to hell!” were her last words. I cut her throat and said, “MMax, out!”
MMax released her arm, and she died with her comrades. The two ladies cringed at my actions. “Did you have to kill her?”
Before I could speak, Dad came up cautiously through the bushes. “Son, is everything okay?”
“Yes, Dad, I just helped these two ladies with an issue. They’re okay now.”
Dad saw the men and woman and said, “Looks like FEMA trash. What did the woman do to piss you off? Crap, MMax almost tore her arm off.”
“Dad, the woman tricked these two women and their friends into meeting with the FEMA crud. The bastards killed their friends and then planned to … well … you know the rest.”
The woman who hadn’t spoken said, “We need to thank your son for freeing us. You can’t blame us for being afraid of you. Most men we’ve run into have only one thing on their minds.”
Dad looked at the two and said, “Darn, Jason, you never rescue ugly women. Do you have some kind of radar to find these beauties in need of help?”
I shifted my feet and fiddled with my hands as I said, “I just have a knack for this kinda stuff.”
Dad said, “Sorry for your loss. What do you plan to do now without your husbands or boyfriends?”
The loudmouthed girl said, “We barely knew them. We were on a trip to the Bahamas when the crap hit the fan and were stuck at the Nashville Airport. There were twenty-eight of us when we started heading north months ago. Most of our companions were killed or captured. We were lucky and found a nearby farmer who let us work on his farm for food and a place to sleep.”
Dad asked, “Are you afraid of hard work? Are you willing to work to help feed yourselves and our little community? We have about thirty people living on a farm south of Nashville out in the sticks. We don’t plan to abuse you or make you slaves, but you will find it safe and will get plenty of food if you contribute to the community.”
I wanted to tell Dad that we had women coming out our ears and needed some men to help with the heavy work and fighting. I kept my mouth shut because it was his farm, and he was a good man trying to help.
The women went off by themselves to talk while Dad and I searched the FEMA thugs for anything useful. We found two Sig 9mm pistols, several knives, the two M4s, and their tactical vests. Dad also stripped them of their clothes and shoes. As we worked, I said, “Don’t we need to find some men to balance the community out a bit?”
Dad chuckled, “You don’t like to be surrounded by pretty women?”
“Dad, I like women as much as the next guy and have fought and bled with some of the best female fighters in the world, but sometimes you need brute strength.”
Dad quickly replied, “Several weeks ago, I began to notice that men are disappearing from the earth at an alarming rate. We might not have a choice on who joins us. Men are out scrounging for food to keep their families alive. They’re fighting gangs, criminals, and neighbors every day for every scrap of food. I’ll bet there are three women for every man left alive on this planet, and it will get worse.”
I knew he was right and what he’d said made me think. “Dad, the women who are left might be alive, but just barely. Many still have kids to feed, and bad men abusing them without a husband or boyfriend to share the load. I hope they band together and fight for survival. This damned country is going to the dogs.”
“Son, that’s why we’ll help anyone who needs help. Your mom and I want to train as many women how to survive as possible. Life is hard now. Most won’t survive this coming winter. I want us to grow fast and get prepared to fight off
much larger groups. Maria and some of the other women need to step up and get these women trained.”
We heard MMax warn us that the ladies were coming back to join us, and we turned toward them. The meek one said, “You saved our lives and didn’t rape us, so we don’t have much choice but to join you.”
Dad’s jaw moved, but he was speechless. I said, “Ma’am, you always have choices. You can go out on your own. We’ll give you some food and guns to protect you. If you come with us, life will still be hard, but I promise no one will touch you unless you want to be touched, and we’ll train you to fight and protect yourself. Our head of training is a fellow soldier, Maria McGill. We soldiered together all over the Middle East and Europe. You won’t find anyone tougher or better at training people to defend themselves and to fight. My mom and girlfriend, Kat, will teach you how to work on the farm. Sorry for rambling, but we need you as much as you need us. Only a well-armed, well-trained, force can survive this mess in the long run.”
Both ladies felt much better about joining our group, but they were put off when Dad told them that we would go on and find my brother before returning to take them to the farm. We gave them most of our food, two pistols, and helped them settle in the large home before leaving the next day. We were sorry the ladies were upset but reminded them they were not tied up and being passed around to pleasure a bunch of thugs. The loud one told me she didn’t think they would ever see us again.
I said, “If we’re alive and if you’re here, we’ll pick you up in two to three weeks to take you home with us. I promise.”
☆
Chapter 18
Northeast of Nashville on Highway 24.
The next week dragged on as we slowly traveled from Nashville heading northwest following Highway 24. We not only had to watch for danger from people but also had to look out for signs from Michael and his family. We ran into several gangs and thugs along the way and chose to hide from them whenever possible. This was difficult since we needed to travel in broad daylight. MMax stayed busy pointing out ambushes and people in our path. He saved our butts numerous times, and I wouldn’t be alive now if not for him. I love that dog.
