Society: After It Happened Book 3

by Devon C. Ford

  “Sir” he said as he stopped short and threw a hasty salute “Car’s gone. Don’t know when”

  Richards turned to the sentries and fixed them both with a malevolent stare.

  “Damn you both. Get out!” he snarled.

  “Sir” they chorused, and fled.

  The Captain forced himself to breathe and speak calmly.

  “Congratulations” he said with forced formality as he looked hard into the older man’s eyes.

  Steve let out a sigh of relief.

  “I’ll fly your helicopter and I’ll not try to escape” he said, resigned to his fate. An idea struck him, which he hoped would appeal to this petulant control freak. He slowly took his Sig from the holster and turned it to present to Richards.

  “You have my parole” he said formally. Richards stared at him. Ancient ritual dictated that he should respect the word of a fellow officer and treat him as a gentleman; that he should politely refuse the offer of the surrendered weapon. He was too angry. He snatched the gun from him and fought with every muscle in his body not to give in and whip the polished metal hard across his face. He turned on his heel and stalked away in rage.

  CHANGE OF PLAN

  Patrick had to think on his feet. At first he couldn’t believe his luck that the first one to come their way was the one who had killed his boy.

  That elation soon evaporated when he didn’t wake up after the baseball bat had cracked his head. He lay flat on his back, snoring in short shallow breaths. He had no idea that the impact of the heavy wood had caused two fractures in Joe’s skull and a dislocation of the third and fourth cervical vertebrae. The sub-dural haematoma was getting larger and putting more pressure on his brain which had already suffered unrecoverable trauma from the injury and the total lack of care. The spinal dislocation was worsened when they dragged his unconscious body off the road, irreparably paralyzing him, and tried to remove the evidence of their ambush.

  Pat had watched through binoculars from a round loft window as Dan knelt in the spot where Joe had fallen. He had hoped to extract information from him, but his limited medical knowledge put the unconscious man into the category of ‘completely fucked’. He had to evolve his plan to keep ahead of the dangerous man in the middle of his binoculars.

  He decided to use the radio and scare them, to threaten them, to let them know they were all dead and that he would be the deliverer of that fate.

  He inspected his new weapon. An automatic rifle that he brandished in front of his boys as the weapon that killed one of their own. He promised it would return that favour which prompted their cheers, quickly subdued to keep from the noise leading to their detection. He promised a promotion to whoever killed that evil dog too.

  He called for hush and climbed into the Land Rover which was hidden inside the barn which had become their temporary headquarters which housed his advance invasion force.

  “You there, boyo?” he said into the microphone speaker attached by the coiled wire to the radio on the dash. Silence.

  He pressed the button again and chuckled with an evil confidence he summoned from deep within him.

  “I know you’re listening” he said smoothly “and I know you’re missing a soldier. I warned you this would happen” he finished. He hadn’t, but he didn’t know who else would be listening either; better to sew a little misinformation into the enemy and have them turn on each other.

  Still no response.

  “I’ll be in touch. Sleep well” he said as he replaced the mic.

  CONTROLLED RESPONSE

  Three people tried to get to the radio at once forcing Dan to stand in front of it and hold them back. He turned to dial up the volume and tried to listen to the serpentine voice creeping from the speakers.

  “QUIET!” he yelled, turning back to look at the radio. He heard the sign off, the threat heavy in the final words.

  He turned to the concerned congregation in front of him and had to act fast or suffer a loss of leadership. He had to take charge before too many suggestions were made. Better to do something than nothing.

  “Nobody leaves the house. Everyone with training is to be armed at all times.” He said to give himself more time to think. Stating the obvious in a confident manner usually settled the nerves of people who, deep down, just need to be led.

  “That was a goad; nothing more. They want us to panic and fracture; that way we’ll be easier to pick off. Everyone spread the word and keep the people calm, but don’t give too much detail. Rangers with me please” he turned and poured himself a coffee, allowing time for his instructions to be followed without having to stare anyone down. He heard shuffling movement and after the first gulp of the warm drink he turned to see Leah, Lexi, Rich, Neil and Marie still stood there.

  He opened his mouth to ask them to sit, not contesting Neil and Marie’s presence at all but was cut off.

  “Don’t even try to send me out” Marie said “I need to know what you’re planning – I know that look!”

  Dan opened his mouth to say he had no intention of banishing her when Neil spoke up.

  “And you’re down two soldiers with Steve away, so I’m staying too” said Neil.

  “Sit down” he said. They sat.

  “Marie, I want your input because you’re not going to like what I’m going to say. It’s safer for me to tell you here so they can protect me” the joke served to soften the atmosphere slightly, but not much. The Rangers stayed silent, not wanting to get in between the two biggest hitters in the room.

  “Neil” he said, turning to the man he’d known longest who still lived “Thankyou; we need you. Rich should be able to get you some kit afterwards” he looked at Rich who gave a single nod. Not a problem.

  He resisted the urge to rub his face and scrub away the tiredness and the stress; he must remain in control for all of them to see.

  “Leah, Lex, Neil – I need you to rest in shifts and keep sentry on the house. Leah, you have Ash” by deploying his dog to her side he made it clear that he was going somewhere that required stealth. That wasn’t lost on Marie who sat forward to object to whatever he was planning. He shot her a look, and despite all her fire she knew when to not push back too far.

  “Rich. Your observation point idea is good. Are you up to it?” he said, trying not to look pleadingly at the marine.

  “Not a problem” he said with his characteristic ‘can do’ style.

  “We’ll go out on foot and look for activity with night optics. We need to stay out until full light, but it won’t be in both directions” that got their attention, as Dan had clearly realised something that the others hadn’t.

  “It’s absolutely the right thing to do if we’re dealing with trained opposition but these are amateur thugs; I think they’re set up close to where the ambush was”

  It was a big gamble, but one that he hoped would pay off. In his own mind he was sure that Joe was as good as dead already; Patrick’s vehement claims about his actions made it clear to him that he had to be seen to punish Joe for killing one of his own, otherwise his pack of feral rats would turn on him. People like that had to show results because their leadership was based on fear and retribution more than respect and confidence in ability.

  Dan’s purpose now was to find the infestation and clear the nest. If Joe was still alive then that was good, but he still prepared himself for the worst.

  He pulled the map of their area down to the table and showed them where the site was, describing it in as much detail as he could.

  “Buildings?” he asked Leah.

  The young girl put down her coffee cup and shut her eyes, hands raising from the table as she mimed out the layout from the mental picture she conjured in her mind.

  “Walled yard to the left, entrance just before the wrecked cars. Trees and thick hedge to the right, blind crest of the road a hundred metres ahead. Fields each side” she dropped her hands down and opened her eyes, back in the present.

  The realisation that such a young person coul
d effectively provide cognitive recall was astounding, even more so that she had never been taught to. Dan supposed it was just another side effect of her upbringing; it didn’t cross her mind not to be able to flick through the mental snapshots she had taken.

  “So, we need a vantage point without going near the buildings” he said.

  “One behind the hedge on the crest and another on the bend in the ditch” said Rich. Dan deferred to him on this, as his experience of setting up OP’s and ambushes far outweighed them all collectively.

  “Ok. Leah? Can you break out a set of the old one-to-one radios and earpieces?” he asked. Better to have some form of communication between himself and Rich than risk being discovered when the time came to signal their departure.

  “There will be no contact between us and the house until we get back in person” he said, hoping that they would get back but not wanting to voice unhelpful fears.

  Rich stood to fetch the right equipment with Leah following suit. Neil went with them to arm himself and help load all the spare shotguns for the others. Lexi busied herself with her personal kit and when that was done she took away the cold coffee pot and mugs to refresh them, leaving Dan sat opposite Marie.

  Neither spoke first, worrying that the other would say the opposite.

  “Be careful” Marie said quietly, breaking the impasse.

  “I will. I won’t go off fighting a war on my own, I promise” he replied.

  “Good” she said, standing “Because I love you and I don’t particularly like the idea of you getting shot” she finished over her shoulder as she left the room to collect a Glock that she had spent painful hours learning to use at his insistence.

  NIGHT OPERATIONS

  Throughout history, military operations conducted in darkness have produced a number of catastrophic failures and even more needless loss of lives. That’s why people like Rich had spent days on end living as an undetected nocturnal killer; both in training and in reality. Dan was experienced, but not, by any stretch of the imagination, to the degree of a Royal Marine which is why he wanted Rich with him. He could move silently in the dark, inch by inch, and once told a story of how in training he had crept up to the ‘enemy’ sentry and tied his boots together.

  Both wrapped up in camouflaged gear and carrying their weapons with a camouflaged net strapped to their small packs, they set off at a jog through the woods in case any small eyes were watching the roads. They had to assume they were. It took them over an hour to reach the fields behind the walled yard with the barn and small shop units. They had no choice but to cross a section of open field so they waited for the darkness to descend further, discussing tactics and emergency procedures.

  “If anything happens, get back to here and wait” Rich said, unnecessarily simplifying the language for an emergency rendezvous point.

  “ERV here, roger” Dan replied, gently reminding the Marine that he wasn’t a complete novice.

  “I’ll go for the ditch in the low ground” he said in a low voice. Totally professional, he knew that a whisper carried further than a murmur in the dark.

  “I’ll take the thicket at the crest” Dan replied similarly “Radios on and earpieces in”

  They separated with a bump of their fists, a gesture perpetuated by Leah and curiously infectious, before moving off like predators to their respective targets.

  It took them almost an hour to move the less than quarter mile distance. Each movement was measured and controlled; each footfall tentative to test the noise it would make. They settled in and Dan gave a double click on the radio’s press button. He received the rewarding double squelch in his ear as Rich returned the signal.

  In position.

  It had been the very first night of their stay at what was now their home when he had last lay prone and still throughout the night, watching and waiting for a threat which was no longer a danger. He settled in, following the almost forgotten routine of wiggling his toes and tensing his muscles all the way up his body to his eyebrows to keep the blood flowing. It kept his mind focused too, kept him alert.

  They were rewarded soon afterwards when sounds came from the yard. Slowly, Dan moved the barrel of his carbine towards the houses as the oversized optic drank in all the ambient light it could find to give him an enhanced view. The night vision goggles were useless at this range; everything after about forty feet was like looking into thick, green fog.

  Movement flashed, a person walked between buildings and the sound of another door reached his ears. He risked a call to Rich, burying his head down to the ground in the dry leaf mould to muffle any sounds which may escape.

  “Movement in the barn” he said.

  A burst of static preceded Rich’s reply “Male. Pissed against the wall and went back inside” he said.

  That had to be them. Anyone staying in a place for any length of time surely wouldn’t shit on their own doorstep, literally. No, whoever was in there wasn’t planning on staying too long. Feeling a vengeance rise in him, he forced himself to stay calm and not suggest storming the place as he wanted to.

  He settled back in to his tensing routine, watching and listening. Hours passed by and the glow of dawn began to haze off to his left. Neither of them would get the sun directly in their eyes when it rose. As he was still thinking over plans on how to attack the yard, more movement showed. A scruffy boy was visible in is optic, at this range he could even see the wispy facial hair he was nurturing.

  Dan’s breathing froze as the boy turned and looked at him. He knew he couldn’t see him, but his eyes were fixed on the thicket he occupied. He began to trudge uphill directly towards him. The radio squelched again in his ear.

  “One towards” came Rich’s calm and controlled voice. Dan hit the button twice in positive response. He watched for a painstaking few minutes as the boy got nearer. He didn’t want to kill him; not because he was at all squeamish about it but he knew that a missing boy would provoke the others into action and nullify their advantage. Dan watched him until he got so close that to keep him in his sights would mean too much movement of the barrel. He leaned back slowly, laying the gun flat and rolling onto his left side to draw the suppressed Walther from under him. Keeping his movements very slow he tried to remain as still as possible. The boy got to within ten feet of him and entered the trees. The foliage was thick before the coming autumn, and Dan was nestled deep inside a patch of weeds in camouflage gear with the net strung over him. He held his breath as the boy looked around to make sure he couldn’t see anyone else.

  The boy opened his trousers and leaned his left hand against a tree trunk. Dan could hardly believe that he had come all this way to piss against a tree but he soon realised that this wasn’t the purpose to the boy’s privacy issues. Even the apocalypse couldn’t stop a teenaged boy from having urges, and he was forced to watch in horror as the boy masturbated furiously for almost a minute. He finished and wiped his right hand against the bark of the abused tree before doing his trousers up again and skipping off back down the hill.

  Slowly, Dan holstered the sidearm and rolled back to his front to pick up the carbine again. His earpiece played static before Rich asked the question.

  “Dirty little fucker just pulled one off!” Dan said disgustedly.

  It didn’t come back over the radio, nor did he think Rich would allow a laugh to escape his mouth given their current situation, but he knew he wasn’t going to live that one down.

  The disgust and comedy of the near discovery was shattered by the next turn of events.

  Patrick emerged, M4 brandished on his shoulder like a trophy, and pointed at the now useless street lamp by the road. A boy scampered up it like a monkey to drape a piece of rope over the top before sliding back down to land heavily. The rope was arranged and much to the unbelievable horror of Dan and Rich, it was tied into a loop. There was to be a hanging.

  Joe was carried out by six of them, barely able to lift his deadweight. Dan studied him as closely as possible, ignoring the fr
antic bursts of static from the radio. His skin was a pale grey. His limbs limp and lifeless. A glimpse of his face confirmed Dan’s fears; the open eyes told the story.

  Joe was dead.

  He picked up the radio and spoke softly to Rich.

  “He’s gone. This is for show” Silence.

  “You’re sure?” came the only response.

  “Positive. I saw his eyes. He’s dead”

  Another pause, then two bursts of static to acknowledge. They would have to watch their friend be strung up like a piece of meat. If there was a chance he was still alive then they would have had no choice but to open up on all of them and risk them getting away.

  A speech was given by the fat King as he waved the stolen gun he had no idea how to use. The boys lapped it up as Joe’s body was hoisted up and the rope tied to the same car used to trap him. The words of the King were too quiet to reach either of them, and soon after they all went back inside to leave Joe slowly spinning lop-sided in the breeze. The anger and the frustration rose in Dan, making him want to march straight down there and kill them all.

  The radio came alive.

  “Count twenty” Rich said.

  Unsure he could keep his voice calm, Dan gave a double press to acknowledge.

  “Exfil?” Rich asked, wanting to exfiltrate and leave the horrible scene behind them.

  Another double click as he carefully secured his equipment and backed out of the hiding place to leave the area via the dead ground out of sight of the yard.

  GEOGRAPHICALLY CHALLENGED

  Emma was not doing well. She was utterly exhausted and under terrible stress. She craved the safety of the prison but worried that they would blame her for Steve’s capture. She hit blockages constantly and spent too long driving in circles. Eventually she got scared when she saw movement when trying to turn the big, unfamiliar vehicle around and fired three shots wildly from the window to scare whoever was there away. The shots served only to deafen her and leave her ears ringing for the rest of the day.