The Shelter, Book 4: The New World

by Ira Tabankin

  “The M262s are great rounds, they’re able to reach out and touch the bad guys.”

  “Jay said they were harder to come by in large quantity and more expensive. He told us that at the ranges we’d most likely be fighting from, these would work just fine. He said he’d rather have more average rounds than fewer better rounds.”

  “Yeah, you’re not shooting five hundred yards or more. How many rounds do you have?”

  “Are you asking how many rounds we have left?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid to ask how many you started with.”

  Fred laughs, “none of us knew the total we started with, there were two rooms in the shelter that were filled with ammo and parts. There are also cases stored under the floor. I think we still have over three hundred thousand rounds left. To be honest, I’m not really sure. Only Jay knows the total number and all the places he stuffed ammo, mags, and parts.”

  Sergeant Johnson stops mid-step,

  “Did you say you have three hundred thousand rounds left?”

  “We might have more; I think Jay hid ammo all over the shelter. We haven’t needed to look for any other storage areas. That number doesn’t count shotgun shells and sidearm rounds. For long range sniper shooting, we have .308 and .338 rounds and, of course, we have a 50 cal sniper rifle which has a range of two thousand yards. Our problem is he couldn’t locate any heavy weapons. You wouldn’t happen to have some mortars you want to sell or trade do you?”

  “I’m not going to ask where all the hardware came from. I know I shouldn’t even think about asking where he got all of the equipment should I? How much storage space does the shelter have? And, no, I don’t have any mortars.”

  Laughing, Fred answers,

  “You’re walking over most of the storage. There is a basement under the shelter’s floor that’s filled with supplies. Jay stocked the shelter with enough supplies to support us for years. He worried that when the economy collapsed, or a war broke out, or he said we got hit by a meteor or solar flare we might be forced to live in the shelter for a long time. He wanted to make sure we have everything we might need to survive and rebuild when we surfaced. Didn’t you see all of the shelter the first time you were here.”

  “I didn’t get the full fifty cent tour, I arrived late, Christ. He must have been planning this for a long time.”

  “He told me he did. He grew up in the cold war, he told me he remembers the Cuban missile crisis. He remembered ducking and taking cover under his school desk when the crisis started. He remembered the 1957 launch of Sputnik and the so-called missile gap which helped JFK get elected. Jay said he was always worried the third world war or something like it would happen. He read science fiction books about fictional nuclear wars, giant earthquakes, and natural disasters. Once he had the means, he decided to build this shelter to protect his family and us from anything that might happen. He told me he knew something would happen, either another war or an economic meltdown which actually started before he and Lacy moved here. He knew a meltdown would result in anarchy. He knew the food and supplies most of us take for granted were going to be scarce. He was going to be prepared no matter what the crisis was. He was going to protect his family and friends, he said he would do whatever he had to in order to ensure his special friends and loved ones survived to see the day, even if it was years or a decade after the disaster when life returned to normal. Jay was determined to live and prosper during and after any kind of disaster.”

  “When I was here before, I got a quick tour of about a quarter of the shelter. I admit, I’m very impressed. The more details I’ve seen, the more impressed I am. He got his “wish”, war plus anarchy and an economic meltdown rolled into one huge shit cake. The only thing he missed is a natural disaster. I wouldn’t bet against God throwing that in to make our lives interesting. By the way, where is Jay? I thought he’d meet us at the front door. Isn’t he usually at the lead of the welcoming party?”

  Fred stops. He looks around to make sure no one is close to them, he leans close to the Sergeant’s ear, Fred lowers his voice so no one else can overhear him.

  “Sergeant, remember, the walls are down here are very thin, people can hear everything that’s said. Jay’s in very bad shape. He was poisoned by someone close to him. He went code blue just as you and your men entered the shelter’s first door. We’re all very worried about him. The doc is trying to save him. Tony and John are looking for who poisoned him. Whoever did it will wish they were dead. I never want to cross Tony and John.”

  “Do you think your doc will be able to save him? Do you think he’s going to make it?”

  Fred looks up at the ceiling, “He’s in God’s hands. All we can do is pray. The doc was doing everything he could when I came to meet you. I haven’t heard an update since we let you in. If we lose him, the morale in here is going to crater. Our people are depressed because we lost another battle and had to flee back inside the shelter. We’d just started moving into our rebuilt homes, which we have you to thank for, when we got attacked again. It’s getting old, really fast. Most don’t like it down here. While the shelter’s saved our lives, nobody likes living in it. It’s a love-hate relationship.”

  “I understand, it’s a little claustrophobic. On the other hand, I’d gladly trade some claustrophobia for my life. I hope Jay makes it. I like him. He seems like a real down to earth guy, one you’d like to have a beer with. I know Captain Black trusted him and thinks very highly of him. If Jay died, I think my Captain will be a greater threat to whoever killed him than Tony and John. Have you ever met a pissed off Green Beanie?”

  “Jay is a great guy; he can tell stories which amaze. Do you know he’s visited every state and Canadian Provence, plus he’s been in around twenty countries? He once made a mistake and got caught behind the Berlin Wall. That’s a story right out of a movie, it’s also funny as hell, although, I don’t think he thought it was funny at the time. We’re at the EMT room, let me get someone to look at your arm.”

  Sergeant Johnson looks around, confused.

  “This isn’t your hospital.”

  “No, this is one of our trauma rooms, Jay designed them in case we had wounded either fighting or in the fields, we could quickly treat minor injuries without having to go all the way into the depths of the shelter. The trauma rooms are stocked with first aid supplies so our wounded can receive quick aid. As you know, receiving quick aid can make the difference between life and death. If the wound is serious, the person can be stabilized here and moved to our hospital, which only has two rooms. Hence, if we had a lot of wounded, the trauma rooms could serve as overflow for our hospital, they are mini hospitals. They’re staffed with trained EMTs.”

  Sergeant Johnson sees two of his soldiers being checked by the EMTs, one EMT quickly checks the Sergeant’s arm.

  “Sergeant, can you move your left arm?”

  “No, I caught a round in the shoulder.”

  “I’m going to cut your shirt off so I can see the wound. Let me know if I hurt you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Ah, there’s your problem. You did get hit in the shoulder, you didn’t catch a round, it looks like shrapnel, I’m going X-ray your shoulder, clean the wound, and remove the shrapnel. I’m also going to give you something for the pain and a tetanus shot. Sit on the bench, I’ll be right back.”

  Sergeant Johnson looks up at Fred.

  “You’ve got a nice MASH unit here.”

  “Not as well equipped as one of your MASH units, it was the best Jay could do in the short time he had. We can handle many medical issues, the exceptions being major operations.”

  “Do you have any information on my corporal?”

  “Give me a minute. I’ll check.”

  “Thanks.”

  The EMT X-rays the Sarge’s shoulder, he reviews the image. He leaves the room a minute, returning with a few syringes, “I’m going to give you a couple of shots. One is for pain which will numb the area so I can clean your wound. It doesn’t look
like the shrapnel did any permanent damage. You’re most likely going to need some therapy to regain full motion control, you should be happy to know, we have a licensed PT with us. You’re one lucky son of a bitch.”

  Fred hangs up the phone on the wall. His face is ashen,

  “Sergeant, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. Your corporeal didn’t make it. He’d lost too much blood before we got to him. Doc says he was dead on arrival at the hospital. He assures me they did everything possible to save him. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “The rest of my men?”

  “They’re going to be fine, two are getting a few stitches, the rest are okay. They’re being shown to where they can clean up and put on fresh uniforms we gave them. After they’re cleaned up, we’ll take them to the cafeteria for a hot meal.”

  “Thank you. Shit, I lost another one. The Captain is going to kill me for losing most of my platoon. He told me I better bring everyone home safely. I got them killed. I raced into the battle without first determining the opposition. I screwed up and got men killed. I thought we were facing a local gang, not a trained army. I lost most of my command due to my bad decision. Damn it.”

  “Sarge. On the plus side, you helped save us. We’ll vouch for you.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think the Captain is going to accept the trade. We’re short on manpower and we’re weaker now. He’s going to need everyone he has to fulfill his orders.”

  “Sergeant, if any of us is going to survive the upcoming attack by ISIS and the Cartel, we’re going to need reinforcements. We’re going to need long-range bombardment or an air strike to save us. If we don’t get help, all you’ve done is extend your lives for a short time. Our doors aren’t going to keep the terrorists and thugs out forever. They weren’t designed to absorb multiple repeated RPG strikes which are designed to take out a tank. Can you contact him or any other military support who can come to our aid?”

  “I agree, let me see if I can round up some help. I’ll find someone to help us. I’m not going to lose my men or you after everything we’ve gone through. I promise you, I’ll find someone to help us.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter 2

  El Chapo’s people run into a surprise they had been warned about, but ignored. The Cartel soldiers were warned ahead of time to be careful because many Americans are armed. They laughed at the thought of fat, stupid Americans owning assault rifles. They learned today's lessons the hard way. They thought they would have an easy time crushing every small town and village they came to. They were surprised when they are attacked before they even enter many of the small towns and villages in their path. They couldn’t believe the amount of firepower many of the small Southern towns possessed.

  Local militias send warning messages about the advancing Cartel army to surrounding towns, they build roadblocks and barricades from deserted cars and trucks. They made improvised explosive devices (IED), which they placed in deserted cars on the shoulder of the roads leading into their towns. The militias had many similarities to the Minutemen two hundred years ago. The militias are composed of the local townspeople, some of whom are retired military. They’re armed with hunting rifles, ARs, AKs, and shotguns. They use CB and portable two-way radios for communication. A couple of towns even use smoke signals; the militia scouts took up position on hilltops watching the roads leading to their homes. They keep a fire burning 24 hours a day. Next to the fire is a wet blanket which they placed over the fire to generate a puff of smoke when they pulled it off the fire. One puff meant everything was okay, two puffs was a warning. If they saw trouble, their next puffs designated which direction the trouble was coming from. They also used small reflecting mirrors as a back up to the smoke.

  Smoke and reflections couldn’t be jammed by the attackers. The attackers didn’t know what the smoke puffs or mirror flashes meant. The attackers being similar to light infantry lacked long range artillery to attack the hilltops. The lookouts had enough lead time to prepare a ‘warm’ welcome for the attackers They left a number of surprises behind them to welcome the attackers to hell. The attackers lost more than half of every group sent to attack the lookout positions. After losing four attacks, the Cartel decided it wasn’t worth the cost to try to dislodge the lookouts, the commanders decided to just ignore them. They accepted the loss of strategic surprise to preserve a larger force to attack and crush their real targets; the towns in front of them.

  The attackers are bullies, they aren’t used to fighting against a prepared defended position, they are used to rolling into towns, crushing the local police, usually only a couple officers, and taking over the town. They take what they want, have their fun with any pretty women and leave. Now, town after town has sufficient notice to prepare for the upcoming attack. Many of the towns beat back the Cartel’s advance. After losing more than half of their people, the Cartel called a halt so they could review and make changes to their attack plans. They left a trail of blood as they withdraw to alter their plans.

  @@@@@

  Admiral Jefferson smiled looking through the high-powered binoculars mounted on a stand on the Missouri at smoke on the horizon coming from sinking Chinese ships and the downed Chinese planes. He thought to himself, this is a scene I can look at for hours. It feels good to see them pay in blood. His aide clears his throat to get the Admiral’s attention.

  “Sir, we’ve received urgent orders from the NCA marked for your eyes only.”

  “Very well, let me have them. These ought to be interesting.”

  Ripping open the envelope he reads the orders, he absently mindedly shakes his head as he continues to read. His blood pressure rises, causing his face to turn red. He rereads the orders a second time. He hands the orders to the Missouri’s commanding officer who also shakes his head after reading them.

  “Sir, are you going to comply with these orders?”

  “I’ve not yet decided.”

  “Sir, why is the NCA ordering you to cease all hostile action against the Chinese?”

  “It’s in the follow-up note from the State Department. It seems the Chinese have filed an official protest with the United Nations over our attacks. They claimed their peaceful ships and planes are being attacked without warning. They state they are operating in international airspace and waters or over what is now Chinese territory.”

  “Sir, we’re attacking forces which have invaded one of our states, the attackers protest our defense to the UN and we’re ordered to stand down? Whose side is this President on?”

  “I think you already know the answer to your question. You’re not going to get me to say anything negative about our Commander in Chief. If he wants us to stop offensive operations, I’ll obey his orders. Order the fleet to cease all offensive operations.”

  Smiling he continues, “Tell the fleet to set defensive operations. They are free to defend their ships and planes if, after a warning, the advancing ship or plane doesn’t turn away. We have to protect our assets. If asked, I’ll reply I’m only following the Navy’s long-standing SOP to defend and protect American lives.”

  “Do you think he’s going to be fooled by that? Surely the Chinese will increase their heat on the State Department if they lose additional planes and ships?”

  The Admiral smiles, “They shouldn’t have violated our purely defensive security zones. We’re just protecting ourselves while operating in international waters. I think given the current situation, we should set a fifty-mile defensive zone around our ships and a one-hundred-mile defensive circle around the islands.”

  The Missouri commanding officer smiles, “I’ll send the orders, I don’t think anyone’s going to be fooled by those orders.”

  “I hope none of our people are, in fact, there’s only one person who needs to be fooled and he’s easily made a fool of.”

  The Missouri’s Captain laughs while nodding.

  “Yes, sir. I hope none of his aides see through your little ploy.”

  “All I have to do
is say we’re following standard SOP; they have no idea what our SOP is. They don’t want to acknowledge they don’t know any of our policies so they usually run and hide when we invoke them. I’m hoping they file my report away and forget about it. I bet they never tell the President anything.”

  @@@@@

  The biohazard trash containers in the shelter’s small medical facility are overflowing with bloody bandages used to patch up the soldiers and trying to save the corporeal. Many are covering the floor. Mixed in with the used bandages are empty packages of quick clot and gauze. Doctor Basco uses his arm to wipe perspiration from his brow,

  “Just once, I’d like to go two days without having to treat gunshot wounds. How are we doing on morphine?”

  His nurse, Wendy, nods her head.

  “We’re fine, we have plenty, plus we have other pain medications. I think we only have one more soldier in this batch to patch up. I’m very sorry for the one we lost.”