“Yeah!” they all shouted.
“Nice shot,” the assistant gunner said, patting the gunner on the back.
Just then a volley of gunfire came in from the rear of the sitting HMMWV. Another party to the Southside Raiders had apparently been left behind and was trying to catch up to their convoy. The M249 Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW) that they were using was a sound and weapon the sitting Marines knew all too well. They jumped out of the HMMWV and took up positions in the roadside ditch and returned fire with their M4s. The gunner of the incoming jeep was shot and killed, but another took his place behind the mounted M249. He attempted to fire at the Marines, but the weapon had jammed and he wasn’t sure how to clear it.
The Marines stood up and took aim on the jeep driver and passengers, killing all of them.
“Fetch the SAW,” one of the Marines barked.
The driver of the HMMWV removed the SAW and seized all the belt ammo that came with it.
They situated it in their HMMWV and continued down the road in an attempt to catch up with their company.
The Southside Raiders had jammed on their brakes at the sight of the lead vehicle being blown to smithereens. The vehicles closest behind the deuce and half, went into a ditch. Others ran headlong into the wreckage and crashed. As for the bus, it tried to swerve around the explosion, but overturned and slid into a ditch.
Nathan and Denny ran up to the bus, along with the Marines, and shot every member of the raiding party that was trying to escape. Even the wounded found no refuge from the rage these two men were experiencing. For Nathan, he was killing the men that had killed his sister. For Denny, he was killing the men that had taken his sister and caused so many other problems in their little safe community.
Denny and Nathan ran up to the bus and shot the window out. The driver was pleading for his life, but Denny wouldn’t hear it. He killed the driver and turned his attention toward the passengers that were all lying on the windows side of the bus.
“Heather?” Denny shouted, but received no answer. He went all the way through the bus, asking everybody if they had seen Heather. Some were unconscious, and others told him they hadn’t seen her. One person, in particular, noticed Denny and said his name. He ran over to her and helped her up.
“Have you seen my sister, Heather?”
“She never boarded this bus, Denny.”
Denny didn’t know how to take the message. He just crumpled up and fell backwards onto his rear. He was leaning against a seat with his feet on the floor, his knees in the air, and his arms resting on them. His rifle was lying in his lap, crossways, his pistol in his hand.
Nathan didn’t have the words, and attempting to console him would be in vain. He let Denny deal with his grief in his own way.
Murphysboro
Cade was concealing himself in an old storefront. He was peering over a counter and looking through the window to the outside world. A company of UN troops had invaded the area where Cade had set up his group and range of control. All his firepower and men were gone and he was left with naught but his own pistol.
All the ambushes he had orchestrated against the United Nations’ platoon-sized units had caught the attention of General Abdul Muhaimin.
The UN soldiers were standing in formations and receiving orders to search and secure every one of the buildings in a two-mile radius. Cade Walker heard what he needed to hear before he headed out the back door of the store and ran directly to his apartment. He removed a false floor in his bedroom closet and secured all his guns and ammo in that location. He kept no weapons except a four-inch knife. He left the apartment and walked out into the greater Murphysboro area, vanishing into the urban environment.
Just outside, a residual number of Cade’s men were still actively resisting the UN invaders. Several men had taken up cover inside the storefronts and began shooting at the formation of UN soldiers.
Like Cade, Donald stayed back from the recent attack on Gorham. He was a skinny black-haired kid, ambitious like Cade, but not militarily trained. He wanted to be like Cade or at least noticed by him. He now found himself hunkered down behind an antique hotdog stand just outside of what used to be a reputable antique store, now just a broken building being used as cover from the fast-approaching units of UN soldiers.
Donald figured he was about to be discovered. He could not hold his current position if they were approaching his location. He stuck his gun hand out around the hotdog stand and started pulling the trigger; all the while, his head was tucked and his eyes were closed. He was wildly firing bullets in the vicinity of the soldiers, none of them hitting a target.
The last thing Donald heard was the thumping sound of something landing at his feet. The last thing he saw was a Russian F1 frag grenade.
Gorham
Jess was walking around the community with all that was left of the Southern Illinois Home Guard. She had found Ash, Morgan, Jack, Adam, Andy, and Blake. Of those fallen from the Posse, she found the bodies of Max, Jordan, Gil, Steve, Warren, Freddy, Byron, and Ian. Zig’s wife, Karen, had also passed in the attack.
She was joined by Rory, who showed no sign of weakness or lack of courage during the invasion. His wife and daughters remained safe in the bus and everybody had respect for Rory’s commitment to the group. He was now combing the community, looking for any survivors.
Ash found Thor lying alongside his fallen sibling, Odin. Thor was fine, other than apparent mourning for Odin, who had been stabbed defending Zig.
Jess walked by Denny’s trailer and was amazed they had escaped it alive, let alone not being shot at all. It didn’t even look like it used to be a home, only a giant piece of scrap metal with insulation protruding from virtually every inch of surface space.
“Keep searching, guys,” Jess said. “Denny and Nathan have to be around here somewhere.”
Jess had become separated from Denny and Nathan in the chaos of the invasion. She feared the worst, since she could not find them and knew for certain that they would not have been taken alive. None of them were situated where they could have seen the Marines coming through. For them, it was an open-ended story, so they continued their search, and eventually, Jess found what was left of Heather’s body. She was with three children in a random house, tucked in a pantry closet. They had most likely died of smoke inhalation and then burned in the proceeding fire.
Springfield, Illinois
Word came to General Abdul Muhaimin that US President Adalyn Baker had committed suicide in the Oval Office, in the wake of the news that her husband and children were dead. For General Muhaimin, it was the word he had been expectantly waiting for. His plan was like a game of chess on a global scale, with the United States being in checkmate to the most powerful piece remaining on the board: General Abdul Muhaimin, Executive of the United States and commander of the global armies.
There were no quarrels about it, and nobody challenged his authority. He was the commander of the United Nations army and a high-ranking member of the Federal Emergency Management Act. Per standing executive order, FEMA answered only to the President of the United States. With Congress missing, no Vice Executive, no House Speaker, and no Secretary of State, there was no other person to take charge, except the highest ranking military commander. Since he was evenly ranked amongst the regional czars, his military status put him head and shoulders above the rest. He was undoubtedly the most likely candidate, and the United Nations had no choice but to recognize his position of power and authority as a standing commander, having the resources of the United States at his disposal.
Little did the world know the true status of the United States. It was broken and leaderless. Executive Order 11000 and 11490 had brought all American citizens under the control of, and were made to work under the direct supervision of, the federal government. The United States had no law enforcement and no working class outside of that which was strictly controlled and supervised. Most of that did not matter for the purposes of Agenda 21, but the world did not need to k
now any of that.
General Muhaimin sent his military reports back to the Council of the United Nations on a daily basis, taking careful precautions to make sure they were of proper positive report. According to all the information the UN was receiving, the US was clearing rurally developed areas of invasive species, which was a politically correct term for “humans”; Americans were cooperating with the changes; resistance was minimal; and the US military was cooperating and working in unison with the general.
In reality, rural America was proving hard to eradicate, Americans were resisting at every corner of property, and the US military was splintered and leaderless. General Muhaimin had successfully manipulated his way into the dominant power on the face of the earth, and he loved the news of the president’s timely demise.
The general had personal matters in Illinois that he wanted to oversee before he went back to the White House to redecorate. In the meantime, he picked up the phone and dialed the District.
Upon receiving his promotion to the Executive Office of the United States, General Muhaimin made a few phone calls and assigned a civilian labor force to construct an Islamic-style architectural dome over the White house. He ordered a minuet with a United Nations flag to fly high above 1300 Pennsylvania Avenue. His designs were grand, but designed to keep the UN Council content that he wasn’t making a power grab, even though his intentions were to do just that. He was not yet set to make his grand reveal.
Route 3 west of Murphysboro, Illinois
Denny didn’t know how to regain his composure. He sat at length while the Marines busted open some MREs and started eating. Buchanan offered him one, but he wouldn’t take it.
“We must’ve missed her back at camp,” Denny said.
“That’s possible,” Nathan said. “We didn’t cover every square foot.”
“I’m heading back,” Denny said.
Nathan understood, but had a mission of his own: to find and kill the leader of the Southside Raiders.
“Will you be okay on your own, Denny? I need this guy dead, but I also understand you need to find Heather,” Nathan told him.
“Yeah, go ahead. I understand. I want him dead too, but I need answers.”
Buchanan heard most of the conversation and walked over to them. “Is there anything I can do to help you guys?”
“You’ve already done so much,” Nathan answered.
“Well, that’s how you see things. If we’re going to build America from the ground up, we’re going to need each other’s help.”
“That’s all well and fine, but you have your Marines to look after, and I need to find my sister,” Denny said.
Heather was all Denny had left, and nobody knew what would become of him if anything were to happen to her.
Denny adjusted the rifle on his shoulder and headed down toward the back of the convoy. The rear vehicle had the three Marines in it that had the firefight against the M249 SAW. The driver spoke to Denny as he passed by.
“Hey, man, there’s a jeep down the hill that’s drivable, just not sure how much fuel it has.”
“Thanks, I’ll snag it and take it home.”
Denny disappeared down the hill.
“Well, Lieutenant Colonel, looks like it’s just us. How about that ride to Murphy. It should be emptied out now.”
“Hop in, Nathan. You can tell me about it on the way.”
Cade was safely out of the UN-controlled zone. He was headed to the house of one of Mark’s old friends. They were introduced a couple years back, prior to the Flip, and had had a few good times together. He’d held a Federal Firearms License before they were all annulled.
Sweating profusely from the anxiety of being caught by UN troops, Cade cautiously walked up to the door and knocked. Nobody answered, and in his frustration, he wiped the sweat off his face and kicked at the base of the door.
“Wayne, I know you’re in there.”
“Go away or I’ll shoot,” a voice said from inside.
“Wayne, it’s me, Cade, Cade Walker.”
Cade waited a moment and then heard the sound of an unlocking dead bolt and chain lock. Wayne opened the door and peeked out.
“Cade? How long has it been? I can’t believe you’re still alive,” Wayne said as he continued to open the door.
“Wayne, I need your help,” Cade said as he pushed his way into the house and saw a lady on the couch with two small children.
“Wayne, children? Really? How irresponsible of you.”
“I met a girl, man. We fell in love.”
“I can’t be hearing any of that right now. I’m in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I’ve got the UN breathing down my back. I just escaped 149.”
“You were on 149, Cade? C’mon, man, I took you for being smarter than that. Nobody goes to 149. There’s a lunatic running some kind of faction down there. He takes women, food, water, supplies, and weapons, doesn’t ask and doesn’t have a conscience.”
Cade just looked at Wayne and didn’t say anything, but his body language said everything. Once Cade felt that he had Wayne locked on, he gave the lady on the couch the same look.
Wayne broke the silence. “Okay, I think it’s time for you to be leaving.”
“Wayne, I thought you took me for smarter than that.”
Wayne knew he had a situation on his hands and gave Cade a quick once-over. Cade saw Wayne looking him over and knew that he was either putting together a strategy of attack or checking him for guns.
“Wayne, I don’t have any guns. That’s why I’m here. I need your help. Give me a gun and some ammo, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“I don’t have anything I can spare,” Wayne said, lying to Cade.
“I would rather you voluntarily help me than otherwise.”
“Like I said—” Wayne started to say, but he was rushed by Cade, who ran at him with his shoulders and head tucked. Wayne tried to knee him in the face when he was close enough, but only got a glancing blow. It seemed that Wayne was in control, but that was only because Cade was fighting one-handed. His other hand was digging in his pocket for his four-inch switchblade.
Cade pulled out his knife, hit the button, and the sound of steel sliding against steel was heard as it locked into place. Wayne felt a sharp stick to his heart that turned into a burning sensation. Cade had stabbed Wayne and was pushing all his weight up into Wayne as he pushed him off. Cade never let go of the blade and kept it firmly planted in Wayne’s heart. They shifted positions with Cade getting on top of Wayne.
“I told you I wanted to do this voluntarily. You didn’t have to tell me no, and now it’s gonna cost you more,” Cade whispered into his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the lady.”
When Cade was sure that Wayne was dead, he stood up. He brushed himself off and looked at the lady, who was too frightened to budge from the couch. She was holding her children’s eyes closed and pulling them in tight.
“Where does Wayne keep the guns?” Cade asked defiantly.
“They’re in the gun room, to the right,” she said, pointing in the direction of the room.
Cade walked in that direction.
He heard the door close in the front room and returned to make sure nobody was there. The lady and the kids had left.
“They won’t survive out there, either,” he said as he went back to looking for the gun room.
He found the room, but it was tightly secured. Cade returned to Wayne’s body and patted his pockets down for keys.
“Nothing,” he said, standing up. He walked into the kitchen and started going through the junk drawers, which turned out to be every drawer.
He found a ring of keys that were labeled. On one key, he read “Guns.”
“This must be it.”
He walked back to the room and unlocked the door.
The walls were covered with rifles, and the tables were covered with pistols.
“Wayne, there’s plenty here for the two of us.
Why did you have to lie?”
Cade was thinking “long distance,” so he grabbed a Bushmaster .30-06 and some ammo from the ammo locker, which opened with a key from the key ring he had found.
He grabbed a Glock G26 9mm pistol from the table and secured some ammo for it from the ammo cabinet.
He then went into the front room and sat down on the couch where the lady and kids had been sitting.
“Still warm,” he said.
Cade began familiarizing himself with the Bushmaster .30-06.
“This should do just fine.”
Somewhere west of Opal, VA
Aaron had been walking for hours, following the country road and staying concealed in the vegetation just off the roadway. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever find the town that Mayor Arnie spoke of.
Aaron had never been on such a high-risk mission before; excluding his escape from the District and Michael’s bunker, this was the most deadly risk he had ever taken. He’d spent his previous years preparing his mind for the challenges of the future. He was old enough and wise enough to know that there was going to be a gloomy life ahead if he wasn’t prepared for it. His mother and father immigrated to the US when his mother was pregnant with him. Zamora had barely made it to the US when Aaron was born. Aaron always thought it was cool that he was conceived in Israel and born in the United States. To him, that was the talking point of his life.
Aaron decided to stop moving forward. He felt that he’d either missed the town or hadn’t followed directions accordingly. He wiped the sweat from his brow and took a moment to catch his breath. Just as he stopped to breathe, he looked around the dead-silent forest. Off to his right, on the roadway, he saw something colorful. It was an out-of-the-ordinary color.
“Blue and white?” Aaron whispered to himself.
He began walking closer to the roadway and noticed a blue and white minivan sitting just off the road in the ditch.
Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1) Page 32
