Redfall: Freedom Fighters (American Prepper Series Book 2)
Page 21
It seemed to work, though Dre’s eyes did light up more than the others. Simon was worried the high-strung kid might not hold still long enough, giving away the ruse.
Kat and Diesel had obviously been hurt, their faces bloody and bruised. Kat’s skin was dirty and covered with scratches. The redhead’s cheek was swollen and her eyes were withdrawn in world of shame, telling him everything he needed to know—they’d assaulted the young girl.
Dixie and Dre looked scared to death, but otherwise, he didn’t see signs of any trauma.
Simon turned his eyes and found General Rawlings, kneeing in the grass to the far left, directly adjacent next to Dre. His old friend had clearly been beaten and wasn’t looking at Simon. His attention was on the kids next to him.
Simon coughed again, hoping to get Rawling’s attention.
Rawlings brought his focus forward, looking at Simon. The general’s eyes shot wide for a split second before returning to normal.
Simon didn’t want to waste a second, sending a covert message with his eyes. He used a special combination of winks that represented Morse Code, something he knew his former commander would understand.
It was a skill Rawlings had taught him years ago during hostage training. His left eye sent the dashes and his right eye the dots, forming a short sequence of letters.
Rawlings confirmed the message by sending back an extended, two-eyed blink, holding it for a full second.
Simon coughed again, then tilted his head up to reveal his entire face to the leader with the shotgun.
The man walked five paces forward, aiming the Russian shotgun at Simon when he arrived. He put the end of the barrel against Simon’s head.
“Ya all wasted enough of my time, Amish. So tell me now. Where the fuck is they?”
Simon put his plan into motion an instant later.
“Get down now!” he yelled to the kids as he brought his left arm up to knock the shotgun to the side of his head. At the same time, he grabbed the bottom end of the cane with his right hand.
The shotgun went off, sending three rounds of automatic fire past his body on the left.
Rawlings acted right on cue, tossing his oversized body into Dre next to him.
In an instant, Simon brought the cane up, smashing the leading edge of its handle into Sean’s throat, cracking his windpipe.
The shotgun dropped from the leader’s grip as he grabbed for his throat in panic.
Simon caught the AA-12 in his left hand before it hit the ground.
Rawlings landed on top of Dre and pinned him to the ground.
The other members of Pandora had also hit the deck by now, just as Simon hoped they would when he’d screamed at them to get down.
Simon flipped the shotgun around, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The round hit the upper chest of the man who’d been standing behind Rawlings, still trying to react to the sudden burst of activity. Tissue blew apart from his neck and chin, sending his body flopping backwards in a spray of red.
As Simon expected, the rest of the amateur thugs flinched when the first cartridge went off, bringing their hands up in front of their faces, giving him a few extra seconds to complete his rescue.
Simon pressed and held the automatic’s trigger while aiming the shotgun at the next man’s chest. The drum magazine loaded a series of shells into the chamber and the hammer set them off in rapid succession.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Each time the gun went off, the buckshot found its way to the next target, hitting each man multiple times in succession from left to right. The discharge continued until all targets were down, except for Sean Carnegie, who was now on his knees, gasping for air.
Simon let go of the trigger and stood up, walking over to Carnegie’s position, his heart beating at full tilt.
He raised the gun and aimed it at the man’s head, keeping a safe distance away.
“Look at me, Carnegie!” he said with a tense jaw.
Sean brought his head up, locking eyes with Simon as he continued to struggle for air.
“These are just kids, asshole,” Simon said with fury in his voice. “What you did to my friends is inexcusable.”
He pulled the trigger a moment later, and the gun recoiled, blasting the leader in the face.
The man’s skin blew apart in a shower of blood.
Right then, Simon’s mind replayed a vision of Tessa’s body exploding in the execution chamber. At that exact moment, he knew what the rest of the world felt like after they’d taken their revenge on his wife.
He stood over the body of Sean Carnegie, watching the life run out of it as it gurgled, twitched, and ran red with blood.
“Guilty on all counts,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice, recalling the verdict from his wife’s jury.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Simon let his insides cool and his temper wane, then decided to go free Rawlings first. He untied the general’s hands, needing his help with the others.
“Good to see you, old friend,” Rawlings told him after removing the gag from his mouth. His wrinkled face and weary eyes looked at some of the dead hillbillies lying about. “I see you haven’t lost a step.”
“Got lucky. They were amateurs.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it.”
“Help me free the kids,” Simon said, ignoring the misplaced compliment.
“Roger that.”
Simon walked to Dixie. She was shaking a bit, but it didn’t take long to remove the rope from her wrists and the gag from her mouth. She went to get up, staring at Kat. Simon held her back, shooting her a look to stay down. He figured it was best if he went to Kat first.
Rawlings moved to Dre to free him from the restraints. The second Dre’s hands were free, the kid whipped off the gag and started chatting with Dixie, who was next to him. Dre seemed to be no worse for wear. Amazing, considering what had just transpired.
Simon removed the gag and then the rope from Diesel’s hands and took a few seconds to inspect the gash on the kid’s forehead. The wound needed stitches and a good cleaning.
“You okay?” he asked Diesel.
Diesel nodded, then stood up and ran to Dixie, who was still sitting in the grass. She pulled him down and hugged him, pulling in Dre as well. The three of them huddled together.
Simon knelt down beside Kat. The quiet redhead was sitting forward with her knees up and against her body, even though her hands will still bound behind her back. Her eyes were glazed over, staring off into space as Simon freed her.
She immediately brought her arms forward and wrapped them around her legs, pulling them closer to her chest. Her eyes remained transfixed on the acres of rolling countryside before her—obviously in shock.
Simon slid out of the Amish suspenders, then unbuttoned his cotton shirt and removed it. He put the garment around Kat’s shoulders to cover her up and give her some privacy.
She let go of her legs and sat up a bit, then pulled the front of the shirt closed around her chest. She fastened the bottom button and began to work her way up, never releasing her million-mile stare.
He gently put a hand on her back, not wanting to rush her return to reality.
“You’re safe now, Kat,” he said in a slow, soft voice. “Take all the time you need.”
She finished buttoning the shirt, then turned her neck to look at him. Kat held his gaze for a full two seconds, then started to tear up. In a flash, she spun the rest of her body around and flew into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Then an emotional tsunami came over her as the poor girl began to cry hysterically into his chest. Simon held her tight, feeling the anguish pouring out of her soul.
He planned to remain there for as long as it took while she let it all out. His heart wanted him to comfort her with some poignant words, but nothing he came up with sounded right in his head. Not that mere words would have mattered, anyway. She’d just gone through her own personal hell and witnessed a string of
bloody deaths. Deaths served up at the hands of Simon.
He wasn’t proud of what he’d done, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Sure, he could have let Sean Carnegie live for a few minutes longer with a smashed windpipe, but the man deserved to die for what he’d done to Kat and the rest of the group.
Kill or be killed would soon become the new world order as society collapsed under its own weight. It was only a matter of time now that the grid was down and technology was useless.
Hansen’s red rain had done its job, but Simon figured it was only the tip of what was to come.
* * *
A short while later, Simon stood outside the Healer’s home with General Rawlings by his side, waiting for Dixie and Kat to come out. The Healer and Sister Hannah were inside tending to the assaulted redhead.
The doc had already stitched up Diesel, and the wannabe mechanic was sitting on the porch with the jabbering Dre as they joked around with the blonde kid, Caleb.
Simon and the general had cleaned up the bloody corpses and tossed them in the back of one of the International trucks, then chatted with the Amish elders to smooth things over. The Fishers agreed to tend to the kids, but wanted them all off the property as soon as possible.
Rawlings looked over the homemade clothes Simon was still wearing, stopping on his drab Amish pants. “Nice outfit.”
Simon looked at his old pal. “I could say the same for you. Looks like you put on a few. Might be time to see a tailor.”
Rawlings rubbed his belly. “Yeah, keeps me warm in the winter.”
Simon pointed at the gash in the man’s head. “Should get that looked at.”
“I’m fine. It takes a lot more than that to keep this old dog down. I may be old, but I’ve still got some fight left in these old bones.”
Simon smirked. “Spoken by the man who got himself captured. By a bunch of hicks, no less.”
“Sure, go ahead and kick an old man when he’s down.”
“By the looks of it, the rednecks did all the kicking.”
“Yeah, well, at least they couldn’t make me any uglier.”
Simon let out a short chuckle. “Can’t argue with that.”
“I gotta say, that was some shooting with the AA-12,” Rawlings said, patting Simon on the back.
“Hey, you taught me everything I know.”
Rawlings smiled. “It’s good to know you were paying attention back then. Sometimes, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure.”
Simon decided to change the subject. He had an important question to ask. “What are you doing in the field, Nate? You have men for this.”
Rawlings hesitated before he spoke in a solemn voice. “I think you already know.”
“You don’t trust Anderchuck or his men.”
“Exactly. Decided to handle it myself.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. Otherwise, I might have lost some of these kids.”
“I’m not so sure about that. All I did was land on the kid.”
“It was a enough, trust me.”
“Fair enough.”
“So, our old pal Hansen, huh?”
Rawlings nodded. “I know how much you hate the man, but we need to find him.”
“Yeah, I came to the same conclusion myself.”
“How may I ask?”
“With the help of these kids. They’ve uncovered some key facts that I’ll need to bring you up to speed on. But we can do that later, when we get back to the other camp. Right now, we’ve got more pressing things to handle.”
“What can I do to help?”
“When the Healer’s done with Kat, I need you to drive the girls back to their farm and keep them safe until I meet you there.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“The boys and I will go bury these assholes in the forest somewhere. Then we’ll need to find the rest of the crew and figure out what’s next. We need to get prepared.”
“Yes, with the power out, it’s going to get ugly out there,” Rawlings added.
“And soon.”
TO BE CONTINUED
In Redfall: Shadow Realm, book 3 in the American Prepper Series. To receive priority notification when the next book is released, click the FOLLOW button on the author’s Amazon.com page which can be viewed by clicking here. Or you may join the author’s VIP Readers List by clicking here.
A Note From the Author
I’d like to personally thank you for reading my novel, Redfall: Freedom Fighters. I hope you’ll consider posting a star rating and short comment about this book on Amazon.com. Star ratings are the lifeblood for independent authors like myself who don't have the industry backing or marketing muscle of a major publishing house. Therefore, we must rely on grassroots efforts such as this to help get the word out about our work, one reader at a time. With your help, other readers will find this book and have the opportunity to experience what this story has to offer.
To post a star rating, please click here to visit the book’s review page. Your comment doesn’t have to be anything fancy and can be as short as “Enjoyed it” or “Good book.” Every star rating helps spread the word about this series and lets other readers know this book is something they should consider reading.
Thank you for your support. I truly appreciate it.
~Jay J. Falconer
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AMERICAN PREPPER SERIES
Book1: Redfall: Fight for Survival
Book 2: Redfall: Freedom Fighters
Book 3: Redfall: Shadow Realm (available in 2016)
THE EMILY HEART TIME JUMPER SERIES
There are several Glassford Girl books in the Emily Heart Time Jumper Series - scheduled for release in 2015 and 2016.
Click here to order now.
THE NARROWS OF TIME SERIES
Linkage: Book 1
Incursion: Book 2
Reversion: Book 3
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jay J. Falconer is an independent author, survivalist, prepper, engineer, and Sci-Fi junkie who lives in the mountains of northern Arizona where the brisk, clean air and stunning mountain views inspire his day.
When he's not busy paying the bills with his regular, full time engineering job, he's either trying to steal a few hours at night or on weekends to work on his next novel, or he's out training, shooting, hunting, or preparing for whatever comes next.
He makes his on-line home at www.JayFalconer.com and is the author of the critically acclaimed Narrows of Time Series, Emily Heart Time Jumper Series, and the American Prepper Series.
If the mood strikes you, please use the Contact the Author form on his website to connect with him. Mr. Falconer would love to hear from you. He personally reads and responds to all inquiries.
You may also connect with him on Facebook at the following address: www.facebook.com/NarrowsOfTime
Twitter: @JayJFalconer
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