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Texas Strong: Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction (The Lone Star Series Book 4)

Page 17

by Bobby Akart


  They secured their horses outside the perimeter of the woods and then divided into teams. Duncan and Sook would take the trail thirty yards toward the canyon wall. Cooper and Palmer would move farther east, which was closer to the lake. Riley would take the most difficult trail, right up the gut, as he called it. This trail was more overgrown, but it was most likely to have nests, which would include young pigs. Riley once said if you think a mama grizzly is ferocious, you’ve never walked headfirst into a feral pig protecting her young.

  They were all making their way into the woods when all of a sudden gunfire could be heard, and it wasn’t coming from their rifles.

  Chapter 41

  January 9

  The Reinecke – Slaughter Outpost

  South side of the Armstrong Ranch

  Borden County, Texas

  “Where’s that coming from?” asked Riley as he backed out of the woods. Duncan and Sook were running in his direction, holding their rifles with both hands, with eyes darting in all directions. Cooper arrived by Riley’s side first.

  “That’s coming from the other side of the ravine,” said Cooper, who pointed toward the southwest.

  “Coop, are you sure?” asked Duncan. “Gunshots can play tricks in an open landscape like this.”

  “I’m pretty sure, Duncan,” replied Cooper as gunshots rang out again.

  “We gotta go, y’all,” urged Riley.

  “Okay, I’ll follow Coop’s lead,” said Duncan. “Riley, come with us too. Girls, can you get the extra horses back to the ranch?”

  “We wanna come with you guys,” protested Palmer, speaking on behalf of Sook, who nodded in agreement.

  Duncan walked up to them and explained, “We need the horses protected, and if we’re wrong about the location of the gunshots, we need you guys to help defend the ranch until we can get over there.”

  Several more gunshots could be heard, which prompted Palmer to agree. “Okay, come on, Sook.”

  “Saddle up, boys,” shouted Cooper, who was the first to mount his horse and tear off toward the ravine. He took a more southerly route, which took them past the shooting range and around the back side of the Reinecke Operating Unit.

  “Hurry, Coop,” yelled Duncan. “I think two of the Slaughters’ ranch hands are working our perimeter security today. It’ll be Chris and the women against whatever’s attacking them.”

  “Hah!” shouted Cooper as he dug his heels into the side of his horse. His horse immediately responded, breaking into a gallop and streaking up the trail until the oil and gas wells came into view.

  When all three guys arrived at the top of the plateau, the Reinecke complex came into full view. Slaughter was pinned down behind his truck in front of the caretaker’s house. He was being fired upon by two sets of shooters. Two men were hidden by a small pickup, and another couple were standing behind a broken-down International Harvester tractor closer to the house.

  Duncan took the lead and slowed his horse so he wouldn’t attract the attention of the shooters in front of them. They made their way behind a pumping well, which was inoperable, but provided some cover.

  “Okay, guys, it’s time to go hunting,” said Duncan as he dismounted and tied his horse off.

  “Here comes the cavalry,” announced Riley as he lowered himself to the ground and pointed behind the Slaughters’ house.

  Several riders were coming from the direction of the Armstrong Ranch. They were still too far away to identify.

  “I see them, but I don’t like their angle,” said Duncan. “If they come around the house, they’ll be sittin’ ducks. We gotta take these guys out first.”

  Duncan moved behind the concrete base of the well and found a comfortable place to rest his .308 rifle. He adjusted his scope. Cooper and Riley positioned themselves on either side of their older brother. They all studied the targets through their scopes.

  “I’ll take the two behind the tractor,” said Duncan.

  “Gimme tall and lanky in the plaid shirt,” said Cooper before he chuckled. “That leaves the fat one for Riley. He’s the biggest target.”

  “Very funny, Coop,” grumbled Riley. He adjusted his scope and brought the target into his crosshairs. “Shoot to kill?”

  “That’s what Daddy said,” replied Cooper.

  “Ready, guys?” asked Duncan.

  “Yeah,” the guys replied in unison.

  “I’ll count it down,” said Duncan. “Three, two, one.”

  The staccato sound of the gunshots might have tricked someone’s mind into thinking a machine gun was firing upon them.

  Low-powered handguns like a twenty-two were considered subsonic, meaning they had muzzle velocities less than the speed of sound. Rifle cartridges were considered supersonic, which allowed them to travel a substantial distance before being detected through the rifle’s report.

  This explained why the three male targets were struck before the fourth attacker, a woman, attempted to react, not that it mattered. Duncan was capable of pulling the lever and chambering a round before her mind could process what was happening to her.

  He never hesitated to shoot under some sense of valor that required him to give this woman a break. She hadn’t offered to give the Slaughters a break when she shot at Chris and his wife, together with the two other women inside their home.

  Like the first round that had penetrated her friend’s skull, blasting through and through, followed by his brain matter, she received a single shot from Duncan’s rifle, quickly bringing an end to the attack.

  The guys mounted their horses and rode into the Reinecke complex. Preacher and three men had arrived on the scene just in time to see the shooting skills of Duncan and his younger brothers. He instructed the men to confiscate the weapons and dispose of the dead bodies in the middle of the nearby field.

  After the emotions died down, Mr. and Mrs. Slaughter thanked the guys for coming to their rescue. Slaughter was about to run out of ammunition, and the women were not very good shots. Their only real benefit was to lay down cover fire, and they weren’t entirely comfortable with that.

  Duncan used this as a teachable moment. “Listen, just because you have a weapon doesn’t mean it will be able to protect you when the time comes. You guys have got to train. We have .22-caliber rifles we can give you with thousands of rounds to practice with. All three of us are teaching Sook how to shoot as well. You’re always welcome to join us.”

  They promised to take him up on the offer and thanked him once again. Just as the Armstrong contingent were about to mount their horses and head back to the ranch, more gunfire could be heard.

  “Now what?” asked Cooper.

  “That’s comin’ from the ranch! Let’s go!” shouted Riley.

  Chapter 42

  January 9

  The Armstrong Ranch

  Borden County, Texas

  Palmer and Sook had almost arrived at the ranch house when the gunshots could be heard again, but this time it was toward the river. Palmer hesitated for a moment and looked around the barns. Nobody was here. She glanced at the ranch house, and the gunfire hadn’t raised her mother’s attention. Then she realized the shots were coming from the barnyard.

  “Sook, let’s go. Momma’s in trouble!”

  Sook dropped the lead ropes, which strung together two of the horses, and dug her heels in to chase Palmer toward the barnyard. The two women lowered themselves behind their horses’ necks to reduce the wind drag as they kicked up soft dirt alongside the driveway.

  More gunshots were heard, and Sook spontaneously shouted, “Hurry!”

  Palmer smiled and urged her horse to go faster. She had her sister by her side.

  When they arrived, Palmer saw her mother’s horse tied to a fence post alongside her father’s. Across the chicken coop in the other barn appeared to be three men, who periodically stuck their heads through a window and shot toward her parents.

  Palmer was incensed. She pulled the horse up well short of coming into view of the shooters i
n the barn, whose focus remained on her parents.

  “Come on, Sook,” whispered Palmer as she slid off the side of her horse, keeping it between her and the barn. Sook dismounted and retrieved her rifle from its scabbard. She had shown remarkable progress up to a range of two hundred yards although she had a tendency to squeeze the trigger a little too hard.

  What Palmer had in mind was much closer combat. “Sook, do you see those steel water troughs by the fence?”

  “Yes,” replied Sook as her eyes gauged the distance from their position to the troughs, and over toward the barn.

  The two of them instinctively ducked as one of the attackers leaned out the barn window and fired wildly toward her parents. She noticed neither of them returned fire.

  “I think my parents are low on ammo, so they’re biding their time until help arrives,” said Palmer.

  “We are the help,” said Sook succinctly with a look of determination on her face.

  Palmer nodded and smiled. “This is the plan. I’ll cover you while you run to the water trough. Lie on the ground and stay hidden but watch for the shooters to stick their bodies out the window. Okay?”

  “I can shoot them.”

  “Yes, but wait until I’m in position.” She and Palmer crouched down beneath the bellies of the horses. She pointed toward the back of the barn. “When I get into position, I will put my thumb up like this.”

  “Okay, thumbs-up.”

  “Exactly. The next time they stick their body out the window, shoot them. If you miss, that’s okay. Just keep firing into the side of the barn. It will distract them.”

  Palmer handed Sook her rifle. “Take this. When you are out of bullets, use my gun.”

  “What will you do?”

  Palmer patted her holster. “I have everything I need right here. Sook, remember, keep them busy and focused on you. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Sook nodded, and after taking a cautionary look toward the barn, she ran across the open area in a crouch while carrying both rifles and then quickly crawled on all fours behind the galvanized trough. Palmer felt comfortable sending her behind the water container. The ballistic protection was excellent, and the shooters didn’t have a good line of fire at her. If they attempted to lean out the window to improve their angle, either her father or mother would have a clean shot.

  Palmer pulled her sidearm, readied it for firing, and ran in a circuitous route toward the back entrance of the barn. When she arrived at the corner, she was relieved to see the double doors were pulled open.

  She took a moment to catch her breath, and then she gave Sook the thumbs-up. Now it was up to the marauders to make their move.

  Palmer eased up to the open door, crouched to the ground, and slowly peeked around the corner of the door. There were three men at the far end of the barn. One was sitting on the ground clutching his shoulder, which was bleeding so badly his shirt was completely covered with blood. His head dipped up and down as he approached unconsciousness. The other two men hid beside the open barn windows with their rifles ready. They each had a knothole in a barn board to watch for movement from her parents.

  Palmer was only twenty yards away from the men, an easy shot on the range. However, as Duncan had taught her, a real gun battle is much different than firing upon stationary targets. If she was going to end this standoff, she’d need to close on the shooters as soon as they were distracted. She readied her sidearm and watched.

  A minute passed, during which time she wondered why they didn’t have additional backup. Did everyone go to protect the Slaughters, leaving my parents alone to fight off three against two?

  She put that out of her mind and studied the men’s body movements. The injured man had passed out or died and fallen over into the hay. The man on the left seemed to have an itchy trigger finger. He readied his rifle and quickly made his move to the open window while his partner watched.

  Palmer trusted Sook and immediately sprinted toward the men. She was three or four strides in when Sook opened fire on the man. She missed, but she followed instructions. She immediately began to pepper the barn with round after round. It was all the distraction Palmer needed.

  As the men cowered behind the bales of hay, Palmer shot the first man once in the chest, then she quickly adjusted her aim and took down the other man with a shot to the chest. As she learned from her training, two subsequent head shots were necessary to finish the job. Finally, as she continued to sprint toward her targets, she fired two rounds into the body of the previously injured man who appeared dead from his wounds.

  “Clear! Clear! Momma! Daddy! It’s over!”

  Both of her parents came running around the side of the barn and joined Sook as they rushed toward Palmer. Palmer engaged her safety and holstered her weapon. She opened the side door of the barn to let the others in.

  Because he was a father, Major ran past her with his weapon ready. He looked around the barn, including the hayloft above the three dead men. Then he came back to join the celebration.

  “Wow, look at you two!” exclaimed Lucy as she joined the girls in nervous exuberance. “Daddy and I could see through the cracks in the barn board as you ran to the back of the barn. We thought about shooting but didn’t, knowin’ you had a plan.”

  “The plan worked,” said Sook, who immediately earned a hug from Lucy.

  “It sure did, dear,” said Lucy. “Palmer, are you okay?” Lucy showed genuine concern toward her daughter who’d just killed two men.

  “Look,” said Palmer, who ignored her mother’s question and pointed toward the ranch house. “Here come the boys. There was a shoot-out at the Slaughters’ place. Daddy, we live in a dangerous neighborhood, it seems.”

  “Palmer, our neighborhood has gone to the dogs,” he said with a laugh, not realizing how true that statement was.

  Chapter 43

  January 10

  Klondike High School

  Near Patricia, Texas

  Holloway fired up his shiny new King Ranch Ford pickup and picked up his lieutenants for the short trip over to the local high school. Klondike High taught kids from two adjacent counties, Martin and Dawson, which were just to the west of Borden County and the Armstrong Ranch. In West Texas, the high prairie stretched as far as the eye could see, with only an occasional residence or ranch on the horizon. A high school the size of Klondike stood out and made a much bigger footprint than the small dwellings in a town like Patricia.

  A plan was developing in Holloway’s mind, which could provide for the entry of the North Korean commandos and provide them a base of operations to conduct their activities. As a country, Texas was larger than France and twice as large as Germany or Japan. This would only be the first stop for the commandos, but Klondike High could handle the influx of hundreds of Korean commandos before they were dispatched around the state.

  The night before, his men had cleared the facility and stationed two roving patrols to ensure no interlopers made a move on their new headquarters. Holloway’s men had not seen another living soul in the area since their arrival, but the patrols would give his men a sense of purpose while they waited for their comrades.

  Holloway had to check himself as well. He was anxious to begin his raids into Lubbock. During their four trips back to the Ford dealership, in which they secured over forty trucks for the DPRK commandos, they’d taken different routes through the wealthy southwest neighborhoods of Lubbock. He salivated over the half-million-dollar homes, properties that would sell for a couple of million in Los Angeles. He’d already begun planning his raids into Lubbock, then Midland-Odessa, and maybe as far north as Amarillo.

  But he had to be patient so he didn’t awaken the sleeping giants to his south—the former United States military installations at Fort Bliss and Fort Hood.

  As he walked through the high school’s buildings and pointed out things that might help their future endeavors, his mind wandered to the next phase of their operations. First, he needed to place a satellite phone call to Lee.
The two hadn’t spoken in days, and Lee appeared ready to make his move. He’d lost all communications with Pyongyang, or wherever Dear Leader was hiding out. They were on their own, and that suited Holloway just fine. He’d earned his way into Lee’s good graces, and his next move would allow him to write his own meal ticket.

  The current bunch of North Korean military leaders proclaimed themselves to be experts at war despite the fact they’d never really fought one. This was a nation that spent every waking moment in a defensive posture but prepared to attack one particular objective—South Korea. Both nations wanted reunification, the argument was over which side would control the government. Their battle, if it was in fact under way after the nuclear strikes, portended to be a brutal affair with an incredible number of lives lost on both sides.

  Holloway’s approach to the attack upon Texas would be different. If he were advising Lee, he would remind the new general that he was woefully outgunned. They would have to focus on their objective, which was to take down the power grid, send the new nation into chaos, and then sneak out the back door without getting killed. Knowing Lee, there would be secondary objectives on the new general’s mind, none of which appealed to Holloway.

  He wandered into a geography classroom and studied a large map of the world that hung on the wall next to a chalkboard. Scrawled across the board were written the words Happy Thanksgiving. It was a reminder to Holloway that the blackout of the power grid had taken place nearly eight weeks ago. Coupled with the nuclear attacks, he wondered how many millions of North Americans had died as a result.

  As he continued his walk through the main classroom building toward the administration offices, he realized Lee had probably lost sight of the fact that the mighty million-man army wasn’t coming. If the primary objective was to overtake America in order to plant the flags of Iran and North Korea on American soil, then they were going to need some help.

 

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