It was a peace shattered by gunshots, a lot of them.
Everyone at the picnic table ran for their homes without saying a word. They didn’t have their weapons with them; the peace they’d experienced over the past few months had relaxed them into thinking they were safe.
The people on the farm had become complacent.
The younger kids were herded by Cindy as she took the sleeping baby Adam from Katie, to the cellar of the shelter as they had been previously told to do in times of danger. Cindy had never fired a weapon so was chosen to watch over the younger children. Her life before the fall had been high school cheerleading and fending off the advances of the football quarterback and what to wear that day at school.
Jerry noticed the workouts the astronauts had been holding four days a week hadn’t been wasted on Monica who outran Josh, but she stopped to pound on Eddie and Randy’s motorhome.
Jerry, who was furthest from the shelter, had the longest run. He watched as no one panicked, just ran like holy hell.
While he was running he heard more shots, but from the echo, they sounded like they were coming from the other side of the hill from the shelter, probably from near the barn or garage. It was hard to tell from the way the echoes bounced off the hills.
Kellie had his Desert Eagle ready for him when he got to the shelter, even as she was pulling her AR-15 from the gun safe.
Jerry buckled the holster on and picked up a Model 70, bandolier and walkie-talkie she had ready for him. He put the earpiece for the walkie-talkie in his ear so if someone were talking, no one could overhear.
She’d also looked at the surveillance monitors and as he was running up the spiral staircase that led to the hatch above the shelter, was telling him what she saw. “A dozen men by the farm house and eight or nine more in the driveway,” she told him. She then repeated the information to others who would be armed by now and have taken up their positions.
Eddie and Lt. Col. William “Buff” O’Reilly, who would be the reserve force in the SWAT truck, would be monitoring everything from where they were parked between the motorhomes and the shelter entrance.
Commander Cleve van der Graff was their best tactical officer and would be coming up the back of the hill to take up a position under the antenna. He would be hearing the same information as Jerry.
Over the walkie-talkie, Jerry could hear everyone telling him they were in the positions they’d predetermined would be good spots to hide and fight back in an emergency. They’d gone over their placements more than a month ago, building rudimentary bunkers, not really thinking they’d ever need to use them.
However, Jerry and Cleve had insisted they all know where to go in an emergency like this.
Jerry slowly opened the hatch at the top of the staircase. It was well hidden by bushes, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He crawled out of the hatch and closed it quietly. He heard more gunshots, louder now, and men laughing. They were shooting the cows that were free ranging around the old farmhouse, barn and driveway.
In his ear he heard Cleve say he was in position. Cleve had found parts and designed the communications equipment they were now using. It was 50 years more advanced than the walkie-talkies they’d been using before.
Jerry peered through the bushes and saw the men. The main group was shooting the cows in the legs and laughing at them as they stumbled and fell. The group of about nine men in the driveway, which had become overgrown because the rear entrance had made it easier to reach the storage building and the motorhomes, was shooting at the chickens that laid eggs for the shelter.
Another two cows were shot and the men laughed and walked up to them and put rounds in the cow’s back legs and watched them struggle and moan in pain. The other cows ran.
Off to the side he saw Boomer running at the men. He’d forgotten about the big Bull Mastiff and Jerry made the situation worse as got to his knees and hollered at the dog. “Boomer! No!” But it was too late. Boomer was in full sprint at one of the closest men heading up the path toward the shelter entrance.
In full stride and before the man could aim his gun Boomer leapt on him, tearing at the man’s neck. The dog was shot by several other gunmen, but it was too late for the man attacked. His neck was spurting too much blood for anyone to save him. The man had also been hit by bullets fired by his own people.
Boomer fell to the side of the man he attacked and laid still.
Jerry fell back on his belly when someone started shooting at him. The shooting of the cows was bad enough but killing Boomer pissed him off even more. He loved that big, stupid, loyal, playful dog.
Their aim was not that good and whoever was shooting at Jerry missed by a wide margin. These were brigands, as Jerry came to think of them, living off whatever they came across with no concern for anyone but themselves.
He heard Cleve in his ear. “Stay down, Jerry. There are a couple of men searching with scopes. Let me try something. Maybe we can end this peacefully.”
Jerry kept low and tried to see as much as he could through the heavy bushes.
“Stop shooting!” Cleve hollered from his concealment. So far, not a shot had been fired by anyone from the Saunders’s Farm. There were three more shots and Cleve hollered again. “Stop shooting or we will shoot back!”
“Cleve, they’re some guys moving up around back. At least seven of them,” Jerry heard Kellie tell the former astronaut. Jerry wanted to say something, but Cleve interrupted him. “Rusty, Danny, Padre, cover the door of the shelter. If anyone tries to get in, shoot a warning round and warn them back...if they don’t fall back, drop ‘em and stop ‘em.”
Rusty, Danny, Monica and the Padre had positions which allowed them wide fields of fire around the back of the farm. The parapet which was outside the main entrance of the shelter protected the doors from friendly fire.
“Katie, Josh, give them crossfire cover. Eddie, start your truck and pull it to the edge of the motorhomes.” Cleve gave the orders quickly and calmly and Jerry heard clicks from the walkie-talkies signifying acknowledgement.
The men Jerry could see had taken cover, but at least the shooting had stopped. “Who are you?” someone hollered from below.
“We are the owners of the animals and dog you have just killed. We want you off our property now, or we will make you leave,” Cleve yelled back.
“Your dog attacked us and killed Bo,” was the response from below, then there was a long pause. “We had the right to defend ourselves. And we need to eat. It’s been days since we had fresh food. The cows were here and we did not know anyone lived here so we shot them,” the voice from below said.
“They’re moving to your left, Cleve. Tia, they’ll be coming up on you from your left first. Randy and Juan, move along the back side of the hill and cover her left side. Watch yourselves,” Kellie said over the walkie-talkie, usurping Cleve’s control, but everyone knew she had a view he didn’t. Kellie knew Tia was the person to the furthest left of their defensive line and would be the closest to anyone coming up from the left side.
“Don’t move,” Cleve hollered back down to the invaders. “If you want to live, you will leave this land. Go back to the road and do not come back.” He then moved from the antenna to a secondary position he had prepared which would allow him to better defend Tia’s position while still being able to watch to front of the farm.
“But we are hungry and need food. You can’t keep food from us, that would be inhuman,” the voice said. “We are peaceful travelers and like I said, your dog attacked us.” Cleve knew the man was buying time for his men to maneuver. He was going to put an end to it. “Take your men to the road and we will provide you with three days worth of food and then you will leave.”
“We need more than three days worth of food…” was all Jerry and Cleve heard before the guns started firing again. First it was a single shot, then a fusillade of a machine gun, then quiet.
“I gave them a warning shot,” Cleve heard Danny say. “They machine gunned the hi
ll right below where we are and were working their way to the shelter’s parapet.”
“Take ‘em out,” they heard Cleve order. “They are moving to attack by the looks of it.
“Eddie, get your truck moving to the high side of the hill to the west side of the shelter and park it.”
The Padre, Danny and Rusty all had scopes on their high-powered rifles, where Monica was still using her .22 rifle. The three men each took down one intruder in the first volley. Danny took out the machine gunner. The five remaining men dove for cover in the tall grass. None got within 25 feet of the shelter door. The five tried to return fire at the men hidden on the hill, but the cover the defenders had chosen hid them pretty well.
Eddie started his SWAT truck and was moving toward the shelter and the spot Cleve had told him. Buff was hanging partially out of the open door with the M-249 squad automatic weapon looking for targets. The machine gun could spit out 700 rounds a minute and was belt fed. He had a 150-round belt and was ready to use it.
Neither of them saw from where the rounds came, but one blew through the engine block, causing the engine to choke, smoke and die. Four more ripped through the windshield’s 1-1/4” laminated bullet-resistant glass. There was still a star in the windshield that had stopped a high-powered rifle round from near point-blank range from the woman who had been partially responsible for his friend Mike’s death.
Eddie was lucky not to have lost his face when the fourth came through the windshield in front of him, three inches left of his head. He was cut and bleeding from fragments but still alive.
He also felt fear and the heat of rage in his face. Even while bleeding he grabbed the microphone to tell Cleve what had happened.
Cleve heard the call on the walkie-talkie from Eddie. “Those pricks have armor-piercing rounds!” Two more rounds came through the front of the truck as Eddie ducked for cover and reached for his Bushmaster. This time Buff, who ducked back into the truck, saw the flash of the rifle shooting them. He put six three-round bursts into the weeds where he saw the shots come from.
“You got ‘im, Buff. Nice shot,” the Padre informed him.
Cleve heard the results of the brief firefight, but was concentrating on the man talking to him. He was hollering up at him. “We killed your men in the truck and you’re next asshole!”
“Okay everyone, stay calm.” Cleve said over the walkie-talkies. “These guys are not organized, but they can’t talk to each other just like we can. If you get a shot take it because they are not going to surrender.
“We have good defensive positions and they need to come at us more than we need to go at them. They have already shown they are ready to kill to take what we have.
“Do not let them.”
Jerry slowly edged through the bushes that were hiding him from the intruders. He pulled the Model 70 Winchester to his shoulder and looked through the scope. He had always been a peaceful man, but now he was pissed and faced with 18 to 20 men, all with guns intent on killing them and they’d already proven they found killing easy.
Jerry saw two men aiming in the direction of where Cleve was hiding. He touched the trigger twice and both men fell. One of the intruders must have seen him because someone started shooting at him with a machine gun. Jerry ducked back behind the brushes and kept his head down. He heard the rounds hitting near him.
Two more shots were fired from his far left and he heard Cleve tell Tia she’d hit the machine gunner and he wasn’t going to be shooting any more. Another couple of shots were fired and he heard Juan on the radio for the first time. “Me cago en la madre que te parió! They shot Tia!” Juan, an older man who had been a corrections officer in Dallas for 30 years, had moved up to support Tia and her position.
Jerry got on the radio. “Kayla, Natalie, work your way around the back of the hill to Tia’s position. Make sure you watch your back, but I think they are all in front of us. Randy, Juan, cover them. Kellie, tell us where they’re hiding. We can’t let them pick us off.”
“Five around the house. Four in front of the barn, they might be trying to get inside. One hiding behind the dead cows and two more under that fallen tree. There are four or five still alive and hiding in the weeds along the path south the shelter door,” Kellie reported. “I see Kayla and Natalie moving now through the back of the homes.” Jerry was proud of the woman for remaining calm. “I also have pictures of the back gate area and it’s still clear.”
Three more shots fired from behind the hill. Rusty reported that two more intruders had been taken down.
“There are still at least four men on the path that are moving toward the shelter entrance,” Kellie reported. Buff told Cleve he was in the parapet at the door and would keep anyone from approaching from that direction. Buff was the last line of defense for the children and Kellie in the shelter.
Eddie, whose face and neck were cut from the shattered glass of his windshied, had stopped bleeding. He was working his way up the back of the hill toward Jerry’s position to give his friend’s dad some cover. He had his Bushmaster 308 and found a good position near the tree ine but to where he could see where Jerry would be hiding, and the line of sight that Buff had, but further along the bend in the path that led to the barn. He had just knelt down behind a tree when he saw someone moving up the hill to get the drop on Buff. Eddie put a bullet in the man’s throat. When the man fell, he rolled and someone on the other hill saw the movement and popped two more rounds into the man.
The three others, who were below Eddie’s line of view, but had seen where the other shots came from, fired back at the far hill. The three on the opposite hill shot the brigands shooting at them and killed the three intruders with just six shots.
It wasn’t all good news however. Everyone heard Monica on the radio. “Looks like the bastards got Rusty. He’s not moving.”
Buff low crawled forward and confirmed all eight brigands on the side of the hill were dead. One was still struggling weakly so Buff ended his suffering with a knife. “Cleve, we’re secured this side, over” he reported.
“Good job so far everyone, but we’re not safe yet,” Cleve told them. “Monica, Padre, move up to support Buff.
“Buff, you and Eddie rotate the hill and see if you can draw their attention from Juan. I don’t think the intruders know where he, Randy and I are yet. Juan’s protecting Tia.
“Jerry, crawl backward and come over to the antenna base so you can use it for cover and concealment. Kellie, give us an update”
“Still five at the house, but they’re moving to get a shot at Juan. The four at the barn are looking at the top of the hill looking for Jerry I think. They didn’t go inside. There’s still one hiding behind the dead cows and two more under that tree,” she said.
Jerry, who had gotten to the antenna, saw the four along side the barn. He asked Juan if he saw them and the old Mexican said he did. “Randy, watch the ones at the house. Juan, you take the front one by the barn, I’ll take second one. On three. One, two, three.” Jerry shot the second man in line by the barn. They had been kneeling by the door where young John had found his son bleeding on the floor months ago.
The front two men dropped. Juan had hit his target too.
The two behind them ran back to the back side of the barn away from the gunfire. They came into the sights of Eddie and Buff who dispatched them, Eddie with two rounds from the Bushmaster and Buff with a three-round burst from his machine gun.
“Juan! The men behind the tree see you!” Kellie hollered over the radio.
The intruders fired at least two rounds before a Browning Automatic Weapon spoke its peace. The automatic weapon, on which Randy had unfolded the bipod for steadier aim, ripped the tree apart as well as the upper torsos of the men hiding behind it.
Randy didn’t have the trigger control as Buff and sent five rounds toward the invaders with each pull, but his accuracy with the machine gun was good enough.
The five men around the house and the one who was hiding behind the dead cow
started retreating.
With their friends no longer supporting them, the rest of the invaders started running as fast as they could away from the barn and garage and back toward the dirt road that ran in front of the property. They ran through the treeline between the burned out farm house and the road away from the shelter. Eddie took one more long shot and had the pleasure of seeing the man who was in back stumble and fall after being winged in the leg. The brigand got back up without his weapon and was limping away as fast as he could.
“Randy, Buff, Juan, monitor the perimeter,” Jerry said across the radio. “Monica, check on Rusty and tell us how we can help. Kayla, who can help you with Tia?”
“She was hit in the shoulder, but she’s going to be fine. She’s bandaged and Natalie is helping her back to the medical bay. Monica, I’m on my way to you and Rusty.” Monica didn’t answer. She was crying over Rusty’s body. He’d been hit three times. The Padre prayed for the dead man’s soul.
The time between the first shot that Sunday morning and the last was less than 20 minutes, but the tears would fall for days. They buried Rusty and Boomer next to Mike. Jerry spent the afternoon carving the name of “Francis ‘Rusty’ Rutz” and “Boomer - A Beloved Dog” on two pieces of slate. There were now five memorials in their little cemetery.
Everyone except the perimeter guards, Jerry decided one person by the antenna and one in the living room at the video monitor would suffice for now, was at the burial of their two friends.
The minister said a few comforting words and read a verse from the bible. “From the book of Romans, Chapter eight; ‘For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ May God have mercy on our friend Rusty and our beloved Boomer. Amen”
Everyone took a turn tossing a handful of soil into the graves before returning to their homes.
Jerry was the last to leave and filled in both holes with a shovel. He didn’t want any one helping him and everyone else retired to their own homes to commiserate with their closest friends or family.
Hell happened (Book 2): Hell Revisited Page 10
