“Oh, the civilian manager is okay. He just wants to get fed and make sure his people are being taken care of in there. The liaison officer, Lieutenant Colonel Marshfield, is trying to get us everything we can use. I think he’s been ignoring or stonewalling on orders to quit helping us.”
“Which is why the captain is willing to listen to one of ‘those darned meddling kids’,” I added with a dark laugh.
Jenkins shook his head.
“You can’t tell because of what’s going on now, but the captain thinks very highly of you. Not just for busting up that attack this morning, but for what you did at the prison, too.”
I looked down, not wanting to ask but feeling compelled to do so anyway.
“How many?”
Jenkins knew what I meant without even asking.
“Six, with another eleven wounded; would have been seven if you hadn’t got Murph back when you did. Barlow’s been talking you up since they got back. You’ve got a fan there.”
I grunted. “He’s just glad to hear about his niece being alive. Feels nice to deliver some good news for once.”
Jenkins let the matter go and directed us where to move the vehicle and get set up for the evening. We declined his offer of the use of a tent, but did accept a refill of the Suburban’s fuel tanks. This thing had a huge tank with a reserve, which was good since it only got about twelve miles to the gallon. Diesel, too. That armor must weigh a ton… literally. I knew the tires were some type of resistant material, maybe Kevlar. Well, it was relatively safe inside. We would crack the windows and sleep inside. I noticed a few other vehicles in the car park were occupied. All were old, very old in a few cases, which meant they probably still ran. I saw a Volkswagen van with the funny looking body style and laughed to myself. My father used to call those ‘Hippie mobiles.’
When we pulled into the designated spot and I explained the idea, Lori and Summer started to protest. They looked over at Amy for support, only to get a recital of the features in the Suburban.
“Bulletproof. Big seats. Bulletproof. Cup holders. Bulletproof….”
“Okay, okay,” Lori held up her hands in mock surrender. “Do you really think somebody would risk attacking this place? With all these guns and troops around?”
“Not all that many troops. Jenkins said they lost seventeen dead or wounded at the prison. Then Captain Bisley just detailed another twenty men to beef up the ammo plant’s security. That leaves us with less than a hundred soldiers here. We’ll be keeping our own watch tonight,” I concluded. With the memory of the prison attack in mind, no one protested much after that.
Wolfing down an MRE from our dwindling supply, Amy, Lori and I struggled to spread out for some much needed sleep. Summer, saying she couldn’t sleep anyway, volunteered for the first watch. She would wake Amy in three hours, then after the same interval Amy would wake me. Lori had the last watch and would stay up for the rest of the day once we got started. No one complained because I arranged to take the one a.m. to four a.m. shift, which was when we most expected trouble.
Of course, nobody told the scumbags this was our plan, since they started hitting the camp a little after midnight. And I found out that as scary as a mortar attack is four hundred yards away, nothing compares to when they start dropping in your lap.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I was dreaming. I knew it, but still I couldn’t wake up. The roaring of monsters and the screams of the victims held me in thrall. I tried to move but found myself caught fast. Then, a familiar voice caught my ear and all else came to a thundering halt.
“Wake up, Luke. They’re here.”
Arms and legs started moving for real then as I sat up in the back seat, my hand filled with the weight of my pistol.
“Wow,” Summer whispered. Looking over, I could see her face in the dim moonlight. The heavy tint on the windows only seemed to affect certain wavelengths and so, we could still see by the faint light cast by the moon. “You said he was jumpy in his sleep, but that was awesome; in a scary sort of way.”
“What?” I hissed, scanning for the threat.
“Guard just came around a minute ago, said they picked up movement outside the perimeter. Using night vision, he said,” Amy explained, pulling her sleep shirt off over her head and quickly pulling the advanced body armor on over her t-shirt. She said the new stuff was not exactly comfortable, but better than what we had before. I didn’t want her to ever need it, but better to have it. After securing the Velcro straps, she slipped on her oversized plaid work shirt and started fastening the buttons.
“Perve,” Lori teased, seeming my eyes only on Amy as she did the same thing. Summer and I chose to sleep in our armor instead.
“Yep,” I muttered, and started checking my loadout. CETME or M4? Despite how some people teased, I did not clank when I walked. I did like having options, though. I decided on taking the bigger scoped rifle and taking the M4 as backup. I could strap it across my back and carry a basic load in addition to the four spare magazines I had for the CETME.
I thought about the sniper rifle still strapped in its case but dismissed it yet again. That was a precision instrument, a .338 Lapua Magnum Barrett 98B. The same rifle that I’m sure killed Jay. I wasn’t superstitious about weapons that way, but like I told Sergeant Barlow, I didn’t know the system or have a chance to sight it yet.
“So what’s the plan?” Amy asked.
“I’m thinking we spread out and set up under the Suburban. Let me see, the fence is that way,” I gestured to my right. “So I’ll go there. I need one of you to each take positions front, side, and back to cover. You guys will have to watch for any leakers coming through at other spots, if they manage to get through the fence.”
“Why get out?” Lori asked, but she kept pulling her gear together as she spoke. She was already wearing her pistol and was stuffing loaded magazines for her M4 in a messenger style bag. I thought she might be overdoing it with twenty loaded magazines, but better too much than too little.
“Because we really can’t shoot from inside here, and I don’t want to get trapped. If we stay low and use the truck as a shield over us, we should also make for smaller targets. I don’t want to set up further out because of the ricochets I saw off the armor yesterday.”
“Okay that makes sense,” Lori agreed, “But why not just leave?”
“Because that will make us more of a target,” Amy chimed in, ready to go. “If we try to drive out, the road might be rigged with explosives or just blocked by something we can’t get around. Better to hold here for now.”
I nodded in the dark, and then spoke up. “Yeah, what she said. First, let me take care of something though.”
Using a tiny screwdriver from the multi-tool in my pocket, I removed the mid-cabin light cover and popped the bulb out of the overhead light. Really, this was something I’d thought of before but my own lazy need for sleep overrode good sense. None of the other lights came on without the key being turned to auxiliary.
Our parking place at the edge of the vehicle lot was not due to some prior planning on our part, just luck of the draw when we came in so late in the afternoon. Whatever the reason, it afforded an unobstructed view of the fence line in the distance.
We were barely out of the truck and laying our gear on the ground when we received our next surprise for the night. When I heard the light thump in the distance, I whispered harshly, “Mortars. Get your heads down.”
By the time the round impacted the tent city and exploded, I was starting to feel the adrenalin burn through my veins. First machine guns and now mortars? We were likely about to get our asses handed to us, I feared. If this was the same crew that attacked the prison, I wondered why they did not use the mortars then. Unless that had been a ruse, using the gangs to wear us down a bit, and then letting their distinctive vehicles be spotted in the vicinity of the ammo plant. A plan to distract the Guard and set them up for the real target… the armory itself.
I heard three more explosions, one af
ter the other like massive firecrackers going off. The barrage seemed directed at the civilian tents, and I hoped the earlier warning had gotten those people in the nearby trenches. I heard some screams coming from that direction but could not tell if it was from pain or fear.
The barbed wire fence I was facing was only about a hundred yards away, and even in the scant moonlight I could see shapes approaching from the outside at a sprint. I couldn’t make out details, but all looked to be armed with rifles. I had a feeling they weren’t there to sell cookies.
“I got a shit load of targets at the fence,” I said softly, hoping the girls could hear me over the chatter of machine gun fire in the distance and cries in the night. “Engaging.”
The scope was next to useless in the uncertain light, so I looked under the optics and used the iron sights to line up on the first target. I fired and slid the barrel to the right, firing again. I’d grabbed my little scout pack from the front seat and used it as a rifle rest in lieu of a bipod, so my rifle was steady as I worked quickly, emptying the first magazine.
I felt confident I’d hit five or six of the shapes before someone realized where the shooting was coming from, then I had to hunker down as the concentrated automatic fire ripped into the side of the SUV. Fortunately, they had a hard time shooting low enough at night to get me, but I felt bullets ricocheting off the armored panel of the Suburban.
Whatever the men had as far as personal courage went, they lacked in fire discipline. I could tell from the rapid drop in incoming fire that they’d let themselves all run out of ammunition at the same time. Sliding back into position, I emptied the rest of my twenty round magazine into the point where I’d seen the muzzle flashes and did a quick change, slamming a new magazine home and working the charging handle in perfect synch with the weapon.
I was up and firing again before I’d received more than a smattering of return fire, and I walked the rounds down the line, focusing on where I’d seen these new muzzle flashes. I heard distant screams and the volume of fire never picked back up to what it had been.
Suddenly, I heard firing start up behind me, then to my right. These were M4s, and the shots were coming fast but not sprayed automatic fire. That was comforting, at least. I continued to pick off any sign of movement in the distance, and I was relieved when we received no more mortar fire at the moment. Just being on the receiving end, even at a few hundred yards remove, was nearly enough to make my bladder fail.
I used up another magazine in the CETME, firing what I considered suppressive fire, before turning slightly under the vehicle to call out to my friends.
“Everybody cool?”
“Fuck cool,” Lori said in a too loud voice, “but I’m alive. I think I peed on myself. And I’m lying in it.” She added that last bit with some disgust.
“I’m good,” Amy said a beat later, her voice sounding much more in control. “Just had a breakthrough on this far end of the fence. We… discouraged them.”
“Well, sounds like what I had here. I don’t get it, though. These seemed pretty half-assed as far as attacks go. Hold what you got and let’s see if any more come.”
So that was how we spent the rest of the night. After a few hours, Amy crawled up to lay next to me and Summer joined Lori where she lay. I’d intentionally placed Summer so she was covering our backs, thinking that was the least likely place we’d see an attack. She never fired a shot as far as I knew; which made me feel good, anyway. I know the times were tough, terrible really, but if I could spare her the cost of taking a life this time I would be happy about it.
Amy had fired and, with her training, no doubt she’d hit some of the attackers. Probably killed some folks, too. Same with Lori, though her angle hadn’t been the best. None of us wanted Summer to have to kill unless we had no choice.
We alternated through the rest of the dark hours, taking turns watching and trying to sleep. I heard stirrings in the camp, the sounds of generators running and cries that no left no doubt they were in pain. Maybe dying. We didn’t leave to go check. Maybe we were dedicated to keeping a watch. Maybe we were chickenshit. I definitely felt like that second one, anyway.
A little after sunup, Lori kicked my foot. I was awake but feeling a little fuzzy headed from trying to stay that way.
“Your boyfriend Sergeant Jenkins is here,” she said in a sulky tone, reminding me I wasn’t the only one making do without sleep.
I looked over at Amy and saw her squint her eyes in a way that was both adorable and sad for me to see. She was trying to stay awake, fighting the eyestrain from peering through the sights of her carbine all night. Leaning over, I stole a kiss even as she grumbled about dragon breath.
“Hold down the fort?”
“You got it. I need to get some sleep soon though; the real stuff, not this grabbing a nap thing.”
“You got it.”
I scooted out from under the SUV, noticing as I went the sheets of armor plating were even on the underside of the body. I already knew the suspension was heavily reinforced and the springs I saw looked more like those used on a ten wheel cargo van. I shook my head and emerged into the light, looking up to see the sergeant standing there, holding what looked like a cup of coffee.
“Is that…,” I began, and Jenkins nodded. He handed me the cup, a big ceramic mug actually, and offered a tired smile.
“Least I could do. Seeing as how you guys held this whole side of the defenses by yourselves last night,” he said, and suddenly there was no trace of humor in his voice.
“Okay, I gotta hear the whole story, but let me do this first.”
Balancing the warm cup in my hand, I lowered my body back down so I was looking at three curious faces looking back at me from under the Suburban.
“Ladies, here is some coffee. Please don’t fight over it. I doubt there is any more. Can y’all keep a watch for a few more minutes? I think the sergeant has a briefing for me. I’ll be sure to tell all when I get back, okay?”
“Coffee?” The word was simply repeated three times. Then I saw the head nods and handed the cup forward. I’m not sure which of the little caffeine fiends got their mitts on it first, but I was happy to pull back my hand with all the fingers intact.
I slid back out and saw Jenkins give me a tight, knowing smile.
“What can I say? They scare me when it comes to coffee. I lost the taste and hardly drink it anymore even when it’s available.”
“Gotcha. Sorry to drag you away, but the captain wanted a word. I take it you are heading back out again this morning to check on the Thompson family?”
“Depends on what all happened last night. I take it we didn’t get overrun here, at least. And who the hell was that?”
Jenkins grimaced. “No, not overrun, though it was close…” Then he shut up and didn’t say anything else until we reached the brick armory building.
The backside of the building appeared untouched, but the front façade was pockmarked in places and a large divot had been blown from the wall about four feet from the double doors. I looked at the blackened circle about two feet across and saw it barely penetrated the double thick brickwork.
“40mm grenade,” Jenkins muttered, and we stepped through the wreckage that used to be the front doors. I saw the halls were packed with civilians, some sporting bandages and others just looking lost and frightened. I could relate. Jeez, how badly were they hit last night?
Jenkins led me silently down the hall and past the conference room which, from the sounds coming from behind the closed door, was now being used as another clinic. Hearing the pain-filled cries, I was glad we left the girls outside. They were toughened by the last nearly four months of horror, but no need to add to their personal horror stories.
Captain Bisley looked shattered. I mean, so tired and spent that he could fall asleep at the drop of a hat and not wake up for days. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands had a small tremor that I tried to ignore as he waved me into his office.
“Well, there’s the man o
f the hour,” he said, his voice hoarse and gravelly. I noticed the young female lieutenant was present but the other one was absent. She looked to be barely awake herself. I couldn’t recall her name at the moment but I returned her nod.
“Sorry, Captain, I don’t get it,” I replied simply. “We killed some guys at the fence last night but that’s about it. Nothing too spectacular.” Heck, I was feeling responsible for weakening the defenses here last night with that wild goose chase over to the ammo plant.
“No, you held the line when the others either fell or fled, Luke,” Bisley announced, and seemed to rally from his exhaustion. “That is indeed spectacular. By God, if you were a soldier and not some civilian contractor, you’d be up for a medal. And you did it, no offense, with a trio of young ladies too young to vote. Why has no other officer scooped you up yet?”
I looked down. I didn’t want this kind of attention, really. Again, not from shyness on my part; heck, I was a teenage boy. We lived for getting a pat on the head and ‘attaboys’. But, I was supposed to make myself useful enough to keep around, or help along to my next way stop, but not be remembered all that much. Maybe I should just say that.
“Sir, the reason why Colonel Hotchkins and the rest of the Arkansas National Guard let me go is because I’m only sixteen. They still offered me a job, but I declined. The contractor thing was just a polite fiction one of the colonel’s men came up with to allow me to carry arms while at the base.
“I’m just interested in helping the Thompson girls find their family and then getting out of town. No offense, but I don’t want to make any fuss because I still have a ways to go. I don’t want draw attention from any more Homeland thugs between here and home. So please, don’t mention me in any reports or anything like that.”
Captain Bisley grunted. “I thought you looked a little young, son. And you can rest assured we’ll keep your name out of the official reports. Those Homeland bastards are already gunning for us though, and you were almost collateral damage last night.”
Hard Rain Falling (Walking in the Rain Book 3) Page 12
