Surviving in America: Under Siege 2nd Edition
Page 20
His shot had been the opening salvo for the other snipers. If the men followed the plan then they would all fire a single coordinated shot apiece and then immediately leap-frog to different previously prepared positions.
Five shots rang out simultaneously, but this time from seemingly all directions at once. Five more Chinese soldiers fell. Zeb, Hewitt, Daniels, Cross, and Hitch all took their toll using a synchronized attack to prevent echo locating.
“Which one next?,” Joe thought to himself as he scouted the line of now stalled vehicles.
An officious man screamed unintelligibly in Chinese, and waved his arms. It was a mistake as the motion caught Joe's attention. He performed the ritual again, surprised anew by the lightning-like 'CraaaackBooom' of the Russian surplus rifle. The man fell and screamed no more. His previously waving hands lay motionless.
“Dang, I'm going to be deaf before I'm even sixty,” Joe thought, his ears ringing.
“I really need earplugs.”
Wondering whether the Russians who had designed the rifle had intentionally tried to scare the enemy to death with the impressive sound signature, or merely make their soldiers irate enough to steal a German gun, Joe slinked from sight into his next position in protective cover.
His next shot started the countdown for the next coordinated volley. The coordination timing intentionally was not an obvious pattern to prevent the enemy from gaining any advantage.
He waited as Zeb, Hewitt and the others had one more unified volley to fire. Afterwards, everyone would disappear into the scenery. Since they were facing a far superior force, they would melt like smoke from before the enemies eyes into seeming nothingness leaving no traces.
Later that night they would regroup and hit the convoy again.
Their group was slated for two more runs at this convoy and then another group of militia would replace them for three runs. The group would rest while the other team did it's work and then take over again. All the while, a back-up team was ready in case any one team was compromised or lost members.
This schedule would be in effect until either all teams were eliminated by the enemy, or the enemy was eliminated. There was no give or take.
Everyone was playing this game for keeps.
This was what the Chinese feared most about America, a gun behind every blade of grass. America was now quite happy to oblige and send them ammunition.
So far, the combination was lethal. The single sound of the Mosin distracted the opposition while taking out key personnel. It also focused the troops on the general area from where Joe had fired from. The other five waited until the Chinese opened fire on the spot where they were not located, and then their own shots would be halfway drowned out by the Chinese AK's.
Since everyone in the team was spread out when they fired all at once, and then the Chinese would obligingly blast away at nothing. Their own fire seriously hampered the Chinese's ability to locate the other snipers. The invaders were also wasting a ton of ammo, which they would run out of eventually.
If the Chinese refused to open fire Joe would just take advantage and keep shooting, changing positions until either they did start firing or until they came chasing him. Either option was a mistake.
The concept was simple, and he did not care which option they chose. Either way ended the same for the Chinese. It ended badly.
If they chose to chase him, he led them through a path the Vietcong would have been proud of. It was not safe to follow him if he didn't want to be followed. It was lethal to follow Joe when he did.
The Chinese had no air support so they were open game for the snipers and everyone had licenses. The full military of the United States was now back to defending the Constitution and it was becoming a mop-up operation in America's eyes.
The U.N. might have viewed it differently, but they did not matter anymore.
…..................................
Russia had taken some initial nuclear hits from Iran. They did not learn their lesson. After the good guys had gotten the football back Russia made the mistake of nuking a U.S. Military base. There are mistakes, and then there are mistakes. This was a doozy of a mistake to make.
Our subs and Task Forces had been kept entirely out of the loop. They had been fed completely false information, and had no means of discovering what was happening stateside. After Russia had started to open fire our attack subs had parked off its coast waiting desperately for their weapons to be released. All inquiries received the same inane and mysterious 'alls well don't worry' garbage from high command.
When the football was captured, the naval base where it had been hidden sent word to our carrier groups and the subs concerning what was happening at home. This information was first met with disbelief, and then shock followed. Evidence was provided in the form of video and satellite photo, after photo, after photo.
These may well have been disbelieved as well, but the President himself was being held prisoner at the same base. His words sent them into action.
He explained how he had been a puppet without any real say over what happened, but the convincing part of his testimony was not his words, office, or dress. The man had been punished for his disloyalty.
His face was pockmarked with bandages covering numerous cigarette burns and his clothes hung from his emaciated body from malnutrition. Though he was no longer considered the president by anyone, his tale at least brought understanding to military commanders who wielded very big sticks.
The subs and carriers suddenly all found their weapons hot and plastered Russia without warning, leaving all of their military bases as radioactive wastelands. China made the same mistake and paid the same price. In mere minutes the two countries simply ceased to exist as military entities. In practicality they were little more than a border drawn on a map.
However, the commanders of the various fleets had determined that evil begets evil. They determined that we would not be like the enemy and spared the population centers where possible.
…..................................
Joe was exhausted.
His group along with the alternating team had eliminated all but twenty of the Chinese soldiers for this particular convoy, and now he was being chased. The Chinese had made a rush attack after the last report of his rifle and thirty men had charged his position.
Zeb and the others had eliminated ten of those but the other twenty made it to the brush where Joe had been. He had waited a second too long.
“Getting sloppy in your old age, aren’t you,” he thought to himself as he dashed for a prepared hidey hole.
He grabbed a few items and then faded into the scenery, letting the scared but determined soldiers run past.
A home-made arrow swished through the air and embedded itself into the throat of the rear-most soldier. He fell with a soft gurgle unnoticed by his compatriots, twitching where he landed. Arrow after arrow whisked through the cold brisk air, each finding its target. The sound of a gentle breeze rustling the leaves was enough to mask the sound of the deadly projectiles.
A Chinese soldier heard the noise of the man behind him slumping and turned to see what had happened. Joe melted into the brush as soon as the soldier started to turn, silently sneaking to yet another position. Like some ancient Indian warrior he was using the primitive to defeat the machinated invading troops.
Only twelve soldiers remained, eight already fallen before Joe's deadly assault.
The gurgling sound of the Saline River was behind them. The wooded area along this stretch had been a perfect place to lure the men. Just ask any plains Cherokee warrior. Joe intended that they would not escape. These were the last of a huge force numbering twenty thousand brave Chinese soldiers who had dared step on American soil with evil intent.
The twelve soldiers blasted futilely in all directions, shooting at shadows. A primal terror gripped their souls because they could not see any target to shoot, and death came seemingly from the forest itself.
They were dying
from something which gave no warning and allowed no defense. All they heard was an eerie sound. 'Ffffffffftt'.... and one of them fell. To them, unbidden ancient tales floated to their subconscious mind from childhood, tales of horrible creatures, dragons, and ghosts.
They were honestly starting to believe they fought one of these terrible creatures.
A Chinese man bumped a hidden rope made from brown natural fibers with his foot. Almost indistinguishable from the grass within which it hid, the trap the rope connected to was triggered. He suddenly sprouted spikes from his body.
Eleven.
Six men ran screaming as a group from the area and around a bend in the river. The sound of full-auto gunfire was the exclamation point for the end of their lives.
Five.
“Zeb made it I see. About time,” Joe thought to himself.
Joe drew his bow again as the other five Chinese turned to run. A soft 'twunk' followed his release as he had his bow string silenced
Four.
Using the bow, Joe dropped two more in quick succession, and Zeb started to pursue.
Two.
He saw Zeb start to give chase, but he motioned the Lieutenant silently to stay back using hand signals. The last two were his. This was his state and this was his home, and therefore in his mind they were his responsibility.
The two Chinese soldiers ran for two hundred yards before they noticed that they were alone.
Terror was plain on their faces they faced opposite directions with weapons raised and ready to fire. They tried the back to back defense, which really did not help at all. The men should have found cover, as no-one was using swords.
Out of the direct line of fire, Joe carefully released the arrow which he had drawn back towards the man on the left. It seemed to sprout like a winged branch from the man’s chest. Clutching at the offending growth he fell to the ground spluttering, muttering obscenities in Chinese.
One.
Joe waited for the last soldier to see him.
He looked like some kind of human monster with his face and body smeared with river clay, leafs and twigs. After the man had seen him, Joe slung himself behind the huge black walnut he had chosen for cover. The soldier fired on full auto, the Chinese rounds harmlessly hammering the trunk on the opposite side of the tree.
Every time the rounds stopped Joe would quickly pop his head out and back again. Every time the tree took another incessant pounding from the rifle. Patiently, Joe repeated the process over and over until no more bullets flew.
Carefully, he looked out again and saw that the Chinese soldier had dropped the now empty rifle which he had wasted all the ammunition for. The terrified soldier brandished a bayonet in his right hand, fear plain in every line on his face.
Joe stepped out and approached warily, a near fatal mistake.
The Chinese soldier actually smiled as he drew a hidden side-arm, and aimed center of mass at Joe's chest.
“This royally sucks,” Joe said as everything seemed to go slow motion.
A single shot rang out and the pistol vanished along with the Chinese soldier’s trigger finger. Fifty feet away, Zeb stood up from where he was hiding.
Joe walked up to the Chinese man and pulled out his newest trusty lock-back knife. The metallic 'click' of the knife opening sounded loud. Holding the handle with the blade to the rear Joe cautiously advanced, stalking his prey.
Three feet away, the Chinese man stabbed at him with the bayonet, only to have Joe's blade slide along his arm. The bayonet fell to the damp earth, the hand holding it no longer able to grip the handle.
Joe stopped, and looked at the man.
“I have just one message for you and everyone like you,” Joe said.
“This is our country... Stay out!” he finished with a scream.
As the last two words exited his mouth Joe lunged, his arm swung past the man’s face leaving a red line on the crumpling Chinese soldier’s neck.
Zeb stared at Joe. That was all he could do. Just stare.
A smile cracked slowly across Zeb’s face. He now knew that they would succeed.
There were plenty more in America like Joe who had nothing left to lose, yet refused to stop fighting for freedom. People like Joe who were willing to sacrifice even more, though they had already lost everything.
They would fight like this man, Zeb thought, till their very last breath. They would win, and they would rebuild again that which had been destroyed from within.
They were survivors.
They were Americans.
The End... For Now
About The Author:
A devoted and loving husband and father, Paul Andrulis has a long standing love of the outdoors combined with almost thirty years of outdoor experience in camping, hunting, fishing, and wilderness survival.
With a desire to share the knowledge accumulated through many years of practice, he has written numerous amateur how-to articles and stories, and is now bringing his outdoor knowledge and skill set to the general public.
….............................
“Survival revolves around a number. 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit to be exact. Everything about wilderness survival is aimed at that bulls-eye,” - Paul Andrulis
“Wilderness living is fun and rewarding. Wilderness survival sucks, as it is pure hardship and semi-starvation. The longer you are engaged in survival at any one time the greater the chances you will not actually survive. The goal in any emergency is to get from survival to living as fast as humanly possible. However, if you do not know how to survive in an emergency you won't have to worry about living anyway,” - Paul Andrulis
Table of Contents
Copyright
DEDICATION
Introduction
1. (It Starts)
2. (Salvage)
3. ( Journey To Uncle)
4. (Spread the warning)
5. (Hunting)
6. (Equal and opposite reaction)
7. (A Calm Foreboding)
8. (A time to run, A time to die)
9. (Deafening Silence)
10. (Letting Go)
11. (From The Fire)
12. (Time For School)
13. (De-civilizing The Civilians)
14. (Lions, Tigers, and Bears. Oh My)
15. (Joe to the Rescue)
16. (Wildebeest stew, and Joe Too)
17. (Fight or Flight)
18. (Judgment and Mercy)
19. (The Plans of Men)
20. (Bows at a Gun Party)
21. (A New Home)
22. (The Smell of Death)
23. (It's OUUURR Town)
24. (Hidden Secrets and Evident Truth)
25. (Old, New, Borrowed, Blue)
26. (Will THE Joe Anderson Stand Up?)
27. (The Flu)
28. (To Burn or Not to Burn?)
29. (No Lack, No Excess)
30. (Recipe For Disaster)
31. (The Final Hunting Ground)
About The Author