The Blastlands Saga

by DK Williamson

  “All hell broke loose then, as you might imagine. The rads from the tent all started to draw weapons. Your dad picked up the dead guy’s torch and hurled it at the group while Captain Logan, Pete, and Chuck opened fire on the rads.

  “The captain yelled for me and Lou to get the kids out, so we made for the ridge. The rads from the tent never stood a chance. They got off a few shots, but all they did was shoot holes in the dark.

  “The guy with the box went down and some papers fell out. Pete ran over and grabbed a few of the sheets blowing around, then he ran to catch up to Lou and me. I was in the lead, and as I exited the perimeter of the camp I saw movement to the left. It was a couple of sentries running in our direction. I dropped the first guy with a round through the head, I don’t think he even saw me. The second guy stopped and was bringing his rifle up to his shoulder when I fired and hit him in the neck. He went down, but he wasn’t dead. Pete finished the guy off with his shotgun.

  “By this point I think just about every rad in the camp was up and shooting. I turned to run for the ridge and got tagged by a bullet that went in my calf muscle and came out through my shin. I’d been hurt plenty of times before that, but I never felt pain that bad. Of course, I went down. Luckily Emily landed on top of me rather than the other way around.

  “Lou holstered his pistol and bent to pick up the girl, when he got shot through the hand as he reached out. He growled in pain, then from out of the darkness comes Big Ben Barstow storming in like a freight train. He picks up Emily in one arm and grabs me by my load-bearing gear, yells at Lou to ‘Head for the hills,’ and takes me and Emily out, hot on Lou’s tail. Pete said he’d cover us. He did... right up till he caught a round through his head a few seconds later. Pete was a good man.”

  Gordon paused for a moment staring out a nearby window, then continued.

  “By then Hardin, Captain Logan, and Chuck were pulling out. Logan saw Pete on the ground and stopped to check him. I’m sure he knew Pete was dead, but he bent over his body to do something and got hit in the back.

  “It turns out the captain was grabbing the papers Pete picked up in the camp. Chuck grabbed Logan and dragged him away while Hardin fired at the rads. Chuck pulled Captain Logan out maybe a hundred feet, then stopped and started firing into the rad’s camp to cover Hardin. Your dad threw a couple of grenades at the rads and hauled ass out of there to Chuck’s position. The two of them dragged the captain up to us on the ridge while the able-bodied Rangers up there provided cover fire.

  “The rads didn’t come after us. It turns out they were more interested in the box with the papers in it. Chuck and Hardin said some of the rads kept yelling, ‘Save the box, save the box!’ while others were yelling about the, ‘converts escaping,’ meaning the kids. The rads worrying about the box yelled back, ‘Forget the converts, get the papers, get the box.’

  “Captain Logan was in bad shape. The bullet went in his back and came out his chest. We could tell his spine was damaged so we didn’t want to move him any more than was necessary, but I’m sure dragging him up the ridge didn’t do him any favors. We figured if the rads came at us we’d move if there was no other option, but they packed up and fled in the night. They left their dead, half their gear, and didn’t touch Pete’s body. Captain Logan died a little before sunup without ever regaining consciousness, which was probably for the best.

  “We looked at the papers Pete took from the camp when we had the sunlight to see. They were part of a report about some missiles in silos up in the Blastlands, what they used to call Missouri. The report made it sound like there were intact missiles that didn’t get fired in the Calamity somewhere out there in all that dead space. Lord knows what the rads had planned.

  “The unwounded Rangers commandeered one of the four-wheeled carts the rads abandoned and emptied it so it could be used as an ambulance and hearse. They wrapped Pete and Captain Logan up in tent cloth, redressed me and Lou’s wounds, tossed us and the kids into the cart. and got ready to head for the Freelands.

  “Hardin told us he was going to follow the rads and figure out where they were going. The missiles worried him.

  “He said he knew it would take four guys to get the cart home, so he was going alone. None of us liked the idea, but we thought he was likely right. So we parted ways and I never saw him again. After a few months and hearing nothing out of him, I figured I never would.”

  “What happened to the kids and Lou?” Jack asked.

  “The kids are doing fine, except for this siege business. Paul Barton moved his family into town here. Mark and Emily come over regular to cheer me up. Mark didn’t know his last name, so finding out who he was took a long time. His parents got killed when the rads took him, and by the time we found his kin he’d been living with the Louis family here in town for so long... well, everybody felt it was best if Mark stayed where he was, so he’s Mark Louis now. That makes him almost kin to us since your sister married a Louis.

  “Lou didn’t lose any body parts like I did, but his gun hand sure isn’t the same as it was before.”

  “So what happened to Hardin? What did he find? Barlo said that TGG was involved,” Jack said.

  Gordon nodded. “A salvager named Kay Rush came across Hardin’s remains a few weeks ago, and she retrieved a note with a package asking that it be brought to me here in Kings Town, any Traipse or Louis in Geneva, or if neither of those were possible, any Ranger post. She snuck through the raiders and got in here and brought it to me. We owe her a debt, though she says not. She went to an awful lot of trouble for our sake, so if you get a chance to do her a favor, do it.”

  “I will. What was in the package?” Jack asked.

  “There was a note that tells of what happened after we parted ways. It ain’t easy to read,” Gordon said as his tears welled up in his eyes. “What he found is important. Here, read it for yourself,” he said, passing the letter to Jack. “He wrote that in the family cipher. You still remember it?”

  “Of course,” Jack said with a smile. He unfolded the paper and recognized his father’s handwriting immediately. He read:

  Gordon,

  I hope this note will get to you somehow. I write this in our cipher in case it falls into the wrong hands. Read on and you’ll see why.

  I followed the rads west. They had a lot of hours lead on me, and based on their tracks they were moving fast. Ten miles or so west, the rads started heading north, then after several miles to the northeast.

  We chewed them badly getting the kids out. There were twenty-two sets of footprints and three carts I was following. Every few miles I would come across a dead rad that had been dumped from a cart. Eventually that stopped. I figure we must have hit three-quarters of them in those few minutes of fighting that night. Two dead Rangers for sixty or more rads still doesn’t break even. But if those kids get home I’d say it was worth it.

  In the morning on the third day of the pursuit, I discovered the tracks of another group following the rads. There were six of them, and their tracks came in from the west. I had no idea who they might be, but I figured it out on the evening of day five.

  I knew I was closing on both groups, and the six-man team was closing on the rads. I figured it would be interesting to see what happened when we all met up.

  In the early evening, I heard gunfire ahead. A lot of gunfire. I closed the distance until I neared a ridgeline. I guessed the fight was going on just over the ridge, and I was right. I crept through the trees to a spot where I could see what was going on and discovered the six-man team was some of those Greater Good bastards. They had a belt-fed machine gun, so that helped even up the numbers difference.

  It looked like the TGG guys had the upper hand. The machine gun was positioned on some high ground and fired down on the rads, keeping them pinned. The other five TGG guys were flanking the rads from the opposite side of the high ground from me.

  I dropped the machine gunner from 200 yards out. I thought about making a run at trying to steal the gun, b
ut felt it was too risky. I decided to kill the machine gun by shooting the feed tray cover off the thing. It took me three shots to hit it, but I did. I saw the cover flop up looking bent. I’ll bet a pretty penny Jack would have done it in one. I ain’t never seen anyone shoot like that young man.

  My actions put a wrinkle in the TGG’s attack. The rads dropped one of them, so the TGG were down to four and they started pulling back. A trio of rads took off for the tree line with one of them carrying that damned box. The rest of the rads were trying to keep the TGG guys tied up, but it didn’t work. I could see the TGG guys hooking toward the tree line, going after the rads with the box.

  I was a lot closer, so I aimed to beat them to the thing, if I could convince the rads to drop it. I took a guess as to where they were going, so I dropped behind the ridge again and took off at a run.

  I guessed right. The dumb bastards came over the ridge not fifty feet in front of me. I killed two of them before they knew I was there. The third guy tried to pick up the box instead of shooting me. I ended up with the box.

  I took off south, hoping to get some space between me and the TGG and rad survivors. I could hear them shooting at one another over the ridge, so I went as hard as I could go. As dark neared, I found a great spot to hold up for the night. If anyone tries coming at me in the night I’ll know.

  The papers in the box are mostly old American Air Force documents on Minuteman missiles and their warheads and their locations in the Blastlands. The rest appear to be TGG plans to recover the missiles and/or warheads if they can find them.

  I think the rads got these papers from a TGG recon team, and the TGG guys want the papers back. I’ll update this when I can. I have to get some sleep and be gone by dawn if I’m going to stay ahead of any pursuers. Maybe they killed each other off, like I’d be that lucky.

  . . . . .

  I was right. They didn’t kill each other off. The TGG got on my trail, all four of the survivors from the ridge fight. They can freaking track! I could not shake them, no matter what I tried, so I had to fight them. I fear it cost me my life.

  Two days ago I left before dawn as I planned. About halfway through the day I found I had TGG on my tail. I tried to shake them, but they kept closing. I’m not as fast as I used to be and I don’t have young Ranger Braden’s trail skills.

  I led them a merry chase until I found a spot where I hoped to ambush them. It worked, but I only killed two of them. I took one in the leg.

  I was able to break contact, but they were closing on me again in no time. I bandaged my leg, but I started leaking again, so it made me easy to track.

  I found a trail and took off as fast as I could, weaving along hoping it might slow them and maybe get them to think I was panicking or getting delirious. I don’t know if it worked, but I pulled enough distance to turn on my own trail and ambushed them. I killed them both, but took one through the guts in the process. I could have done better, but it’s too late to fret over that now. I knew the odds of me making it out alive, so I stashed the box in a safe place and made for a large trail, thinking I might find some help. I know that isn’t likely, but I’ll go till I die.

  Gordon, you’ll find enclosed enough of the Air Force and TGG papers to give you an idea of what TGG are looking for, directions on how to find the box with the rest of the documents, and most importantly, a letter for Tess. I hope she’ll forgive me for this screw-up.

  Maybe Straily will get his head out of his pucker and send somebody out and recover the box. Tell Anne Anders I’m sorry we didn’t do better for Pete. I ain’t got much to add about CPT Logan. Every Ranger in the Freelands knows we lost a good man.

  Please tell Mary and Jack that I was thinking of them, and I couldn’t be prouder of them. Mary will be every bit as good a mom as Tess, and there ain’t no more important job than that. I know Jack and I have never been friends, we just don’t have that kind of relationship, but I know he’ll be a better man than I ever was. I know that when he finds out what he wants to do with his life he’ll set the world on fire. He’s got my gumption and fight and his mother’s intelligence and heart. Tell them I loved them. They already know that, but you can’t say it enough.

  Lastly, tell Art I loved him, and that goes the same for you, brother. You two are the best men I knew and the best friends I ever had.

  Hardin Traipse, Sergeant, Freelands Ranger

  . . . . .

  Jack sat looking at the letter for a few minutes until the tears stopped flowing, then folded the paper and handed it back to Gordon. “You said that wouldn’t be easy to read. You were right, Uncle Gordon.”

  “True, but now you know what happened. I copied that letter into plain English so you can show it to whoever might get something out of it. I also have a copy with the personal stuff removed for the Ranger records.”

  “What about the letter for Mom?” Jack asked.

  “I sent it out with the other stuff to Mead. Kay led a small group out. I figured if she could get in here without getting caught she could take that letter out safely as well. You don’t have it?” Gordon said.

  “No. Straily wouldn’t let me see what you sent, and he didn’t mention a letter for Tess.”

  Gordon sighed loudly. “That’s Straily playing his games. You ask him for it and he’ll cough it up. I have a copy here, but I wanted Tess to have the original since it was in Hardin’s handwriting.”

  “Straily will cough it up one way or another. I’ll see to it,” Jack said sternly.

  “You do that, but be smart about it. It wouldn’t do you much good shooting holes in the Ranger Commander,” Gordon said smiling.

  “I doubt I’d shoot him, Uncle Gordon,” Jack said, also smiling.

  “I imagine whatever the rads and TGG were looking for is a done deal. It’s been five years.”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said, “but there’s been some sightings of what are probably TGG teams north of Geneva. We’re too short-handed to do anything about it.”

  “So this stuff might have some use after all. If that’s true, you have to see this through, Jack. Finish what your dad started.”

  Jack nodded. “Maybe without this information they’re looking for a needle in a missile field. I’ll find a way to get this done.”

  Jack paused for a few seconds looking out the window.

  “Do you remember a raider attack on a homestead belonging to a family named Sikes?” he asked.

  Gordon thought for a few seconds. “Yes. Officially they weren’t raiders, just bandits. They amount to the same thing. None of them would surrender. They hurt a lot of people before we caught up to them,” Gordon said with some sadness. “Why do you ask?”

  “There’s a guy serving out of Mead right now that I went through training with. Ralph Sikes is his name. He said a Ranger named Gordon carried him to get medical care and wondered if it was you.”

  “I’ll be damned. That was me. That brave kid lost his hand. Stabbed one of the bastards after the fact. A Ranger. I’d like to meet him sometime. I’ll be damned.”

  “I’m sure he’d like to meet you. I’ll tell him when I see him.”

  Jack spent the rest of the morning talking with Gordon and Carol, and after lunch caught a nap at Gordon’s insistence. By late afternoon Jack was awake and said his goodbyes to his aunt and uncle, then left, headed for the Ranger post to plan the return journey to Mead with Will and Stan.

  On the way to the Ranger HQ he was bushwhacked.

  “Jack Traipse!” a rumbling low voice bellowed from behind.

  Jack smiled broadly, recognizing the voice and turned to see an immense human being lumbering toward him, Ben Barstow.

  Jack walked toward him with his had extended. Barstow knocked it away and picked Jack up as if he was a child and hugged him.

  “I can’t sneak through raiders with a crushed ribcage, Ben,” Jack grunted as he pounded the big man on the back.

  Ben laughed and set Jack on the ground.

  “The captain said you w
ere here. You done went and done it, didn’t you?” Barstow said, pointing at Jack’s star.

  Jack nodded.

  “Your pa would be proud as all get out, scared, but proud, Jack.”

  “I hope so. Did Gordon tell you what happened to Hardin?”

  Ben nodded, looking very solemn. “At least we know. He went down tough,” he said with a quaver in his voice. “Sometimes that’s all a Ranger can ask for.”

  Jack nodded in reply.

  “You know what happened to my cousin Jim? He was gone when we got cut off. Ain’t heard.”

  “Jim’s a Ranger now, went through training with me.”

  “That’s good to hear. When we got cut off I thought he might have got himself killed trying to get back here.”

  Jack smiled. “He’s here, well almost. He’s at Camp Mead.”

  Ben smiled. “He took a roundabout way to get here. That’s trying to get home the hard way.”

  Jack laughed. “I aim to recover Hardin’s remains and the box if they’ll let me.”

  “I figured that, Ranger or not. There won’t be any shortage of volunteers to help, that’s for sure and for certain,” Ben said with a nod. “First we gotta get this raider business taken care of. You going back tonight?”

  Jack nodded.

  “C’mon, I’ll walk you back to the HQ.”