by John Grit
Kendell cupped his right ear with his hand. “I think I hear something out there on the road.”
“Yeah,” Brian said, “I hear it too. At least one of those bastards is lying in the road hurting.”
“We’re a long ways from the road,” Kendell said. “He must be moaning and crying real loud.”
“Sound carries far at night across an open space like this golf course.” Nate resumed glassing the road. “Don’t talk anymore unless you have something important to say. We need to be using our ears and eyes, and not our mouth.”
~~~~
Nate caught movement, low to the ground, out in the open. A thin crescent of moon had been above the horizon for more than an hour, and he could see the open golf course well with binoculars. A fox dug in what was a sandpit, now partially grown over with weeds and grass. How did you sneak out there without me seeing you?
Kendell pulled his throw rug tightly around him and shivered. Brian had wrapped his upper body in his sleeping bag, using it as a blanket and leaving his legs free so he could move fast by casting off the sleeping bag in a second. His breath was lit by the moon’s glow and Nate watched the rhythm of his breathing for ten seconds, and then went back to glassing the area, spending more time on the tree line than the open golf course. He swept the road once a minute, methodically covering every inch he could see from his position. If they come back, it will be in force and looking for revenge, and they will try stealth this time.
Fog had just started to thicken three feet above the ground. It had formed hours before, but until recently, was thin, now it worried Nate. He could no longer see their first position, and that was important to his plan. He originally planned for their first position to be the new kill zone. He expected the gang to believe them to still be at the old position and move in. There were two possibilities that might save them from the fog: The wind might pick up and blow the fog away, though that did not look probable at the moment, and the gang might come late enough that the heat of the rising sun would lift the fog so Nate and the others could see under it. False dawn began to brighten the eastern sky moments earlier. If the gang did not return in the next two hours, they would not be coming.
Carlos proved tougher than the teens. He endured the cold without complaint, not even stuffing his hands in his thin jacket pockets. He did pull a black wool cap down past his ears. He had no sleeping bag or blanket with him. Nate gave him his. He wrapped himself in it but kept his arms free and his rifle in his hands, cold be damned. Nate lowered his binoculars and looked at Carlos. He’s a fighter. Ramiro was good enough to give me one of his best men. I will have to remember to thank him for that.
A faint, distant drumming of tires on asphalt came to Nate’s ears. He knew the others had heard. Their ears were younger and had not been damaged so much from the sound of gunfire and explosions.
Carlos removed Nate’s sleeping bag and carefully rolled it up and put it aside.
Brian whispered, “Dad.”
“I know.” The drumming of tires grew louder until it was obvious there were many trucks coming.
Kendell aimed his rifle at their first position and scanned the area through his scope, looking under the fog. “I don’t see nothin’ yet.”
“They’re going to try to come in quietly.” Nate lowered his binoculars again. “I expect it will take them thirty minutes to work their way to where they think we are. It all depends on how careful and quiet they try to be as they move in. Concentrate on keeping yourself calm so you can shoot straight. Breathe deep. Focus on our old position so you will recognize something different about that area when they arrive. These are not professionals. There’s a good chance they will get lost, so watch the surrounding area also.”
“They are bound to go after Ramiro too,” Brian said. “Some of them will probably sneak along the other side of the road back in the trees and try to get to the others.”
“I guarantee you they brought a lot more friends with them this time,” Kendell said. “They’re pissed off now.”
“We kill a few of them, the rest will run again just like before.” Brian clicked the safety off on his carbine.
Carlos remained quiet. He settled into a steady prone position with his rifle shouldered.
“You guys be quiet now and don’t shoot until I do.” Nate glassed the area constantly. “Stay alert. It may be a while before the fun starts. Remember, breathe deep.”
Brian shed his sleeping bag. Then Kendell shed his throw rug of a blanket. Nate smiled in the dark. You two starting to sweat, are you? It doesn’t seem so cold now, does it?
Thirty minutes came and went. Another thirty minutes came and went. The eastern sky glowed red and orange and the fog lightened to grey. Birds began to chirp. The more minutes that ticked by, the more Nate worried. Why would it take them so long to get into position? Either they had a more complex plan than Nate expected they were capable of, or there were so many of them it was taking them a long time to maneuver. Either possibility made Nate nervous. He contemplated calling Chesty on the radio, but doubted Chesty would send help. Their relationship was not exactly cemented with strong mortar. Another thought came to him, and he hoped it would prove true. Just maybe the gang was waiting for daylight, thinking that somehow their attackers had had the advantage in the dark before. Maybe they think we have night vision devices. Nate gripped his rifle, his stomach churning from a nagging feeling that there was more to this gang than he realized.
Movement in the trees caught Nate’s attention. He glassed the tree line and could make out indistinct forms moving toward their former position. The woods were swarming with people. He needed more information to decide on his next course of action, so he pulled the radio out of this pocket and turned up the volume a little. “Chesty, they’re moving in on us as I speak. Can you give me a situation report?”
Chesty’s voice came over the radio. “It’s been quiet in town for over two hours. I think they have headed home.”
Oh shit! “They’re not heading home, they’re moving in on us. We are facing all of them.”
“I don’t believe it. They’re heading home.”
Nate put the radio up close to his mouth so he could speak in a low, determined voice. “It’s been quiet in town because they’ve been moving in on us for two hours now and waiting for daylight. I realize you don’t give a damn about us, but this is your chance to wipe them out. “If you move in on them now, you can catch them unawares from behind. I expect most of them who came to attack your town are here. There’s a lot of movement in the woods and a lot of trucks parked down the road.”
“I only have ten men with me. It will take a while to gather up more. I don’t want to attack them with less than thirty men.”
Nate’s mind raced. “How long is a while? The fight is about to begin at any moment.”
“Well, it will take at least half an hour to get out there even if we drive as fast as possible. I expect it’ll be close to an hour.”
“Make it faster than that even if you have to come with only ten men.”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Out.”
Brian kept his eyes working the tree line. “We in trouble, dad?”
“Get ready to move out fast.” Nate tied his sleeping back to his pack. Kendell and Brian scrambled to get ready to leave. “Stay down,” Nate said. “Hurry, get your packs on.”
Carlos kept watch. “You have little confidence in Chesty and his people, don’t you?”
“We will see,” Nate said.
“And what of Ramiro and my people? Will you leave them to fight alone?”
“We are not leaving, just moving to a place we cannot be so easily overrun by massive numbers. I am hoping to make this a long-range fight and keep them off of us.”
“Long range? Is this not already long range?” Carlos asked.
“More like medium range.” Nate bent over and prepared to run. “Follow me and stay low.”
They ran through the pine trees at top sp
eed, not caring for the noise they made. Speed was of the essence. Nate depended on what little dark remained and the fog, and there was not much left of either. They ran for two hundred yards. He turned left and exploded out of the tree line and led them around the contour of a rise, keeping low, depending on a swell that ran across part of the golf course, keeping it between them and the enemy for cover and concealment. He caught Brian trying to see over the swell as he ran. “Keep your head down.” It wasn’t enough to hide them completely but it hid the lower two feet of their bodies.
The last fifty yards they crawled, relying on the tall grass for concealment. They could see movement back in the trees. The gang moved in on their first position. Several shots rang out.
“What are they shooting at?” Brian asked.
“They think they’re shooting at us,” Nate said.
But we ain’t there,” Kendell said. He snickered nervously. I guess they know we ain’t there now.”
Relief washed over Nate as they entered the trees on the far side of the golf course. Staying back in the trees, Nate led them to the left and headed back towards the road one hundred yards. They found a place where large rocks had been pushed up when the golf course was built. He let Carlos decide where he wanted to shoot from; for the others, he found good positions where rocks offered bullet-stopping cover, yet they could see well enough to shoot.
Nate scanned with his binoculars. “We have Ramiro and his men behind us and wide open space across our front. Now we have to hold them off until the townspeople arrive. You see a target, kill him.”
Chapter 15
Carlos fired the first shot, shooting a man through the chest. The man collapsed where he stood.
The gang replied with a roar of gunfire. Though dawn had arrived and the golf course was well lit, Nate saw the muzzle flashes back in the shade of the trees. A covey of quail rose up from the tall grass near the middle of the golf course; the image of their wings blurred by speed, gained altitude and was swallowed by the rising fog.
Nate yelled, “Make your shots count.” He was gratified to see the others taking deliberate aim and firing only when they had a target. Between shots, they could hear a gunfight taking place at the road and knew Ramiro’s group was under attack also.
Several of the gang members jumped up and charged. They were cut down in less than ten steps. Bullets chewed at trees all around them and sent sparks flying off the rocks. As more of the gang members discovered their position, their fire became more accurate. “Keep your heads down behind the rocks and let them waste ammo,” Nate yelled.
“Did you see that?” Brian yelled. “They tried to charge across that wide open space. They must really want us bad.”
“If they keep that up they’re going to run out of people,” Kendell yelled.
Carlos remained quiet. He looked for targets. He fired and a man fell.
Nate pulled the radio out of his pocket. The rock he used for cover spit sparks from the impact of bullets. With the radio held close to his mouth, he yelled above the roar of combat. “Chesty, what is your ETA?” He could just make out Chesty’s voice. It sounded like Chesty said fifteen minutes. “If you drive up now, you can cut them off from their vehicles and prevent their escape.” Nate put the radio down to help repel ten men in full charge—cut down the same as the others.
“Geez,” Brian yelled, “I can’t believe they’re that stupid. Why are they doing that?”
The battle raged on for twelve more minutes. Carlos raised his head a few inches to get a better shot. He aimed. His head snapped back and he collapsed to the ground. Nate took one look at the wound and knew he was dead. Kendell and Brian turned their heads and saw Carlos. Their faces turned cold, all emotion washed away. They fired with renewed anger, deadly seriousness on their face.
Nate yelled, “Stay down! Stay as low as possible.” He snatched up the radio. “What is your ETA?” He heard Chesty say one minute. Nate turned the radio off and put it in his pocket. He rolled back into the prone firing position and started killing.
The roar of gunfire increased to a new intensity. After several more minutes, the battle started to wane, but in the distance the sounds of Ramiro’s battle continued strong. Nate wondered if Chesty’s group had reached the gang’s trucks. Several more minutes went by. Firing from the other side of the golf course slowed. He suspected that the gang was in the process of exercising a flanking move of some kind. Glassing the tree line revealed nothing. He scanned the area toward the road. A dozen men ran across to their side. Nate fired, but managed to hit only one of them before they disappeared into the tree line. During the lull in gunfire, Nate heard shooting coming from down the road. Cut them off from their trucks, Chesty. He tapped Brian and then Kendell on the shoulder. “Time to go.” They gave him a puzzled expression but did not argue. “Stay low. Crawl on your belly, head down.” Nate stopped long enough to grab some .308 rounds from Carlos’ pockets. Sorry, Carlos. I’ll tell the others how bravely you fought.
Fifteen yards into the trees, they began to crawl on all fours; ten yards farther, they rose to their feet and ran hunched over for half a mile before they stopped. Nate looked around, finding a sinkhole-like depression fifteen feet across and four feet deep. They slid into the hole on a thick layer of leaves and lay on their bellies. “Okay, catch your breath,” Nate said. He glanced at the two teens who were on his left. Their chests heaved, faces rigid with tension, eyes scanning the woods. Kendell’s right arm dripped blood. Nate ripped his pack off and dug out his meager medical supplies. “You’re hit, Kendell.”
The Brian saw the blood for the first time. “No!”
Nate cut Kendell’s jacket sleeve away. “Keep watch, Brian. I doubt they’ll come this far, but stay alert.” He examined the shallow graze and saw that it was not life threatening, but deep enough to cause bleeding. He tied a strip of clean cloth over it.
“That’s good enough,” Kendell said. “Don’t waste any more time on it. Killers are coming.”
“Probably not,” Nate said. “But we will retreat farther into the trees.”
Brian jerked his head around and looked at his father. “Abandoned the others?”
“We’ve done our part. My job now is to keep you two alive.”
“I don’t know as we have done our part,” Kendell said.
Nate put his pack on. “We have. We cut their numbers down substantially, just the four of us. Chesty’s men have arrived. If he has any sense, he has already cut them off from their trucks and they have no escape except on foot. This will soon be a mop-up operation. Now let’s go.”
They walked until they came to the park’s border on the far side. Someone’s home stood only fifty yards away. They could still hear gunfire in the distance.
“What do we do now?” Brian asked.
“It looks empty.” Kendell held his rifle at the ready. “I don’t see anyone around. Doesn’t look like anyone has lived there in a long time.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nate said. “We will retreat back in the trees and stay there until the shooting stops.”
Once they settled in at their new hide Brian spoke his mind. “Is it right to leave them like this?” He looked at his father. “We’re hiding while they’re fighting.”
Nate sat on the ground and watched mist rise from his wet pant legs in the cold morning air. Brian and Kendell blew mist with each breath. Little clouds rose and drifted away in the gentle breeze. All three shivered. “You guys wrap yourself up again before you suffer hypothermia,” Nate said.
They listened to the battle in the distance. The shooting was less frequent but continued on. Nate answered Brian’s question. “When it comes to who lives, I will always put you first. At the moment, Kendell is number two.”
Kendell blinked. “Wow,” he muttered under his breath.
Nate continued. “I like Ramiro and his people, but you’re my son and you will always be my first concern.”
“But is it right?” Brian asked.
“It’s my right as a father. It’s not like we did not do our part. We left a lot of them dead back there. And the day is not over. We could be in another firefight at any moment. Keep your eyes and ears working and stay alert. Some of them will scatter in the woods and try to run. A few of them are bound to run this way. You will probably get a chance to kill again before the day is over. So don’t feel bad about being here instead of where the gunfire is now.”
Brian pulled the sleeping bag tightly around him and looked down at his feet for a few seconds. He looked up and scanned the woods. “The woods are thick here, and there are lots of dry leaves on the ground. We should be able to hear them coming.”
Nate loaded a fresh magazine into his rifle. I hope he understands. It looks like he has accepted it. It was just too hot back there, too many rifles firing at us. They knew exactly where we were, the rocks and the open land of the golf course saved us. Sure we were killing a lot of them, but it was only a matter of time before more of us got shot.
Kendell jumped and raised his rifle when two squirrels emerged from their nests and scurried from limb to limb, shaking dew drops from leaves that bombarded palmetto fronds below. To their fear-heightened senses, it sounded loud in the quiet forest. The squirrels chased each other for several moments and then scurried away, leaving the forest quiet again.
More minutes ticked by, and the distant battle waned. Quiet spells between renewed flurries of gunfire became more frequent and lasted longer. The three of them sat in concealment and cover, watching and listening, waiting for danger to come to them. All three shivered in the cold.
Brian jerked his head to his right. He lifted his carbine. Wild crashing in the brush warned them. By the time the three men emerged from the wall of green and exploded into a small opening in the woods, rifle sights were aimed at them. Despite the cold, they were drenched in sweat. Their eyes were wild with fear. They gulped air into heaving chests. Nate, Brian, and Kendell fired. It was only after they were lying in their own blood on the leafy forest floor that Nate noticed none of them were over twenty.
