The Shelter, Book 4: The New World

by Ira Tabankin

  “I already told you the truth.”

  The ISIS scout laughs, “Yes, so you said. We would be fools to believe anyone would give up the truth so quickly. You are trying to trick us. Allah teaches us infidels always try to deceive the holy warriors. We have to make sure you are telling us everything we need to know. If we had a car battery, we could quickly get the answers we want. We’d simply connect the battery to your balls, you’d be surprised how much pain twelve volts applied to your balls cause. I have seen people scream until they go mad. Since we don’t have a vehicle, and we don’t have any particular place to go, we decided to take a slow approach to get to the truth. We’re going to strip you naked, cover parts of you with sugar water and honey then we’ll stake you in front of a large ant hill. We think you will quickly tell us everything we want to know. Think about millions of small bites. Millions of ants biting and stinging you in your most sensitive places. Soon other insects and animals will come to feed on you. You’ll beg to tell us the truth. You’ll beg us to kill you. You will die and serve us in the afterlife.”

  “Please, NO! I’ll tell anything you want to know.”

  “We know you will. Our current problem is, we don’t know if you’re telling us the truth. Once the insects and animals begin feasting on you, we’re going to ask you the same questions. If your answers are different, your suffering will increase. Are you ready?”

  Crying, and shaking, Ricky pleads, “Please, please don’t. I’ll be cooperative and tell you everything I know.”

  “Of course, you will. Ebraham cut off his pants.”

  “Please, for the love of God, please, you don’t want to do this.”

  “You’re wrong. We do WANT to do this; we enjoy making infidels suffer. We will draw out your suffering for many hours. We will drain you of everything you know. If you cooperate, we’ll kill you quickly, if we decide you tried to hide something from us, we’ll leave you for the ants to consume. It could take them many days to kill you, they are small critters. It took one man we did this to, ten horrible days to die.”

  Ricky’s last thoughts before passing out again are, we are supposed to get along and share…..

  @@@@@

  General Arthur and Captain Black stand on the East bank of the Mississippi looking at the smoke rising from the destruction of the West bank where the two A10s attacked. There are still places burning from the napalm. General Arthur smiles saying.

  “Captain, it looks like the Warthogs tore the shit out of the Cartel’s position. I never understood why the Air Force wanted to retire them. They’re the best close air support planes in the world. I think it’s safe for us to send patrols across the bridge to look for any survivors.”

  “I agree.”

  “After cleaning up this position, there’s a Cartel supply camp about five miles from here. I plan to take it intact and distribute the supplies to the needy who lost everything to the Cartel.”

  “Sir, my people are ready to support your plan.”

  “Excellent. I want your tanks to lead the road march. They should be able to provide us with some protection and also drive fear into the surviving Cartel and their hired soldiers. They don’t have any weapons which will threaten an Abrams tank.”

  “I’ll send nine of the tanks over the bridge to provide a secure position for us on the other side of the river. I’ll leave nine on this side to provide us firepower if we have to withdraw. I sent six to look for a different crossing two days ago. I was hoping they’d find a way to cross and come up behind the Cartel. I’d also like to send patrols out to check on local communities.”

  “Yes, I agree. I’ll send some of my people with yours. Most of mine come from this area, they know where the towns are and will be able to quickly gain the trust of any survivors.”

  “Agreed. I’ll assign two platoons to assist with the search.”

  “Thank you. Let’s see if anyone survived on the other bank.”

  The surviving Cartel members stuck their heads up, they looked around at the destruction of their positions. Looking at the bridge, they see nine American tanks crossing the bridge followed by LAVs and six Bradly fighting vehicles armed with anti-tank missiles. The survivors look at each other; they nod their heads agreeing to surrender. Most have blood running out of their ears and noses, they are deaf and all are wounded. They shakily push debris away from their positions, they slowly stand and raise their hands as the American armor quickly surround them.

  @@@@@

  Jay slowly exits the shelter with Lacy, Sergeant Johnson and Major Walker walking with them.

  “Major, did you look in my castle?”

  “No, we were afraid it was booby-trapped.”

  Smiling, Jay nods replying,

  “It is. If you tried to open one of the doors without first entering the correct access code, you would have set off antipersonnel weapons which would have cut down anyone who happened to be around the castle.”

  “I thought so. Jay, has anyone ever told you, you’re one nasty SOB? You’re not a nice person.”

  Jay smiles while nodding his head, “Many times, and it's true, but I take care of my family and friends. How are your people set for supplies?”

  “We’re okay, I was going to ask you if you needed anything.”

  Laughing, “I have more than enough to keep us going for a long time. I can replace anything you’ve used so when you move on, you’ll have one hundred percent of your supplies.”

  “I’ll take inventory and let you know.”

  “While your officers do that, allow me to show you what we’ve built.”

  “Jay, why a castle?”

  “It used to be a 7,000 square foot house until a tornado tore it apart. I thought that if we were going to have to fight for our survival, we should take a page out of history. Castles were used for hundreds of years. My castle has bullet and fireproof walls, if you notice, the small windows are mounted high on the walls, they are so small a person couldn’t break in through them. The observation towers provide us with a secure high position to recon the area. Even a castle can’t overcome odds of four or five hundred to one. Our numbers, or lack of them, have always been our main problem. Forty people, some of them children, can only do so much, which is why I built the shelter. It was to be our last ditch hope a secure shelter if the farms got overrun.”

  Major Walker nods,

  “It looks like your shelter has done its job. You’ve survived many attacks.”

  “The castle is new, Captain Black and his people finished it for me while we were doing what we do so well, hiding in the shelter. Part of our defense was the camouflage of the shelter’s entrance, now that the opposition knows where the front door is, we have to improve our active defenses.”

  “Is there anything we can do to assist you?”

  “Do you happen to have a few hundred extra land mines on hand?”

  “Sorry, we don’t carry that many when we’re on a patrol or a march to battle.”

  Then there’s not much you can help us with. Our first task will be to plant replacement mines to replace the ones which were used in the last battle, we always shift them around so any attacker who hits us more than once won’t know where the mines are.”

  “My people can assist you with the digging and mine placement.”

  “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  The shelter’s people aren’t aware they are being watched by two surviving ISIS members who are recording the scene below them. They are worried at the number of uniforms and the sudden appearance of people carrying weapons they see walking between the houses and the farm’s fields. They see machine guns being placed on the castle’s observation towers.

  One leans over to the other,

  “Where the hell did the soldiers come from? I wonder if there are more of them inside that underground building. I don’t like the look of this. It’s like hitting a hornet’s nest, they suddenly appear, all are armed. They have heavy machine guns, who knows what else they�
��re armed with. We have no idea how many in total there are down there.”

  “We knew there was something hidden here, we need to get the information back to Al Afi, who can assemble a large enough force to crush these people.”

  “One of us should slip back to our base camp, the other will stay here and record everything.”

  “Agree, I’ll go while you stay.”

  “May Allah guide you.”

  “Allah Akbar.”

  @@@@@

  Al Afi smiles reading the latest reports from Europe. He thinks we conquered Europe. In another ten years, we will have erased their history and replaced it with the one true history; the story of Allah. We will burn all of their churches. In their place, we will build mosques. We will destroy every one of their historical landmarks. We are either converting the Christians or killing them in killing camps. We reopened Hitler’s death camps, we’re using them to remove the remaining Jews and Christians who thought they were safe in their Europe. The truth was always in front of them. We told them we were coming to take them over. We sent millions of refugees, as our advance force, refugees who were really Allah’s soldiers. The stupid Europeans welcomed us with open arms. They gave our people homes and money. Their bleeding hearts welcomed our poor refugees without any vetting, we swarmed their countries with Allah’s warriors. We pricked them a little here and a little there. First Paris, then Berlin, Stockholm, Madrid, we convinced the Europeans the refugees have rights too. They allowed us to vote. We took control of their media, we convinced them very few of us meant them harm. Lying for Allah is encouraged. Once we had control, they were the first ones we beheaded live on the Internet. The lovely Internet, developed by the Americans in case of nuclear war; it's enabling us to rule the world in Allah’s name. If the world’s economy hadn’t collapsed, it would have taken us another ten years. I have millions of young who are willing to die for Allah. Europe is under our control, now it’s America’s turn to feel our sword of conquest. We will land an army of over a million armed men who will move across America like a wave of locust. Soon, the black flag of ISIS will wave across the world. The Americans are too fractured to stop us. My advance teams tell me the Americans can’t stop us. They’re fighting each other and the Cartel. His thoughts are interrupted by a messenger.

  “Sir, a runner from Central Tennessee, has entered camp with a message for you.”

  “Show him in. It must be the news of our success from our latest battle in America.”

  The messenger is led into Al Afi’s suite,

  “Holy one, I have information from Nashville.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Sir, we lost the battle north of Nashville and more than 99% of our army. We were attacked by both a Cartel and militia army. We were outnumbered, they hit us during morning prayers.”

  Before the messenger could continue, Al Afi pulled his sword out and beheaded the messenger for bringing him bad news.

  Aides rush into his office to remove the body and begin cleaning the carpet.

  Al Afi sits thinking, what have I done to upset Allah? Why did he cause us to lose this battle? I must have done something to upset him. I will discover what the problem is so I never lose again.

  @@@@@

  Ricky is again awakened by warm urine running down his face. His captors laugh.

  “Infidel, it seems you like the taste of piss. Are you comfortable? You’re naked from the waist down, you’re tied down on a couple of large ant hills. I think one of them is what you call fire ants. We poured sugar water and honey on your left foot. I don’t think it will be long before you have visitors. They will begin biting you to lap up all of the sugar and honey, can you guess where we put the honey next? Do you want to begin telling us what we want to know? I understand having your balls eaten is very painful.” The ISIS trooper laughed at the look on Ricky’s face.

  “Cut my zip ties. I’ll tell you what you want to know!”

  “Let’s start with where did you come from?

  “A farm north of Nashville. I don’t know the town’s name.”

  “Already you are withholding information we want. We’ll return to check on you in a little while.”

  The fire ants begin biting and stinging Ricky’s left foot. His screams and crying make his captors smile.

  “This one will break very quickly. He has no spine. A few stings and he’ll beg to tell us everything. Allah is right, infidels are weak and not worthy.”

  “What are you going to do after we drain him of all his information?”

  “Leave him where he is, what do we care about the likes of an infidel like him?”

  “We should record his torture and death, it will drive fear into the other infidel’s hearts, it will scare them before we conquer them. We will break their morale; it will encourage others to torture infidels.”

  “Good thought. Set up the camera. We will broadcast his suffering live.”

  “Yes, I like it. We will make the soft infidel’s wet their pants.”

  “Al Afi will reward us for the recording. We will get the first choice of the next batch of infidel women.”

  “I can’t wait; I’ve been out here in the middle of nowhere for too long.”

  Within minutes, Ricky’s torture is being broadcast live on the internet. His screaming and begging is heard by millions.

  @@@@@

  Major Walker sent six messengers to local towns asking them to send one or two representatives to a meeting at the castle. Many of the locals didn’t know there was a castle near them. Every town except for one agreed to send one or two people back with the militia messengers. The sixth town wanted to send most of their residents to the meeting, or at the least, their entire ruling council of ten people. They met the militia messengers with demands for everything from water, food, security, back pay from their jobs and their missing welfare payments. The militia messenger looked at the dirty mob in front of him asking.

  “Why are you demanding this crap from me? I’m not the government. Hell, I’m here because the government failed. I'm offering you a chance to improve your situation.”

  “We don’t care who you are. You’re wearing a military uniform and armed with one of those deadly assault rifles. Who else should we ask? No one else has come by. We’ve been waiting for FEMA or the DHS to arrive. We thought they may have bypassed us because we’re such a small town, but we have some very important Democratic Party donors living here, surely the government would come to protect them.”

  One of the women says,

  “The County Sheriff used to come by, all he wanted was a payoff. We haven’t seen him in a while. Look around at our town, we’re hungry, we need medical supplies, a new sheriff and lots of fresh food. Most of us haven’t had a salad in months. When will the first delivery trucks and the mobile medical facility arrive?”

  The militia members shake their heads, they look around at the people circling them,

  “Why haven’t you used your land to grow food? Why haven’t you built blockades and defensive positions? Why haven’t you taken control of your own destiny?”

  “The farmer who lived outside of town offered us food, but he demanded we work his fields for it. That was totally unacceptable. He doesn't understand we do not do manual labor. We’re a small college town. We have a college just outside of town. All of us worked there until they stopped paying us. Most of us are tenured full professors. He couldn’t understand our feelings, due to our advanced degrees we don’t work in the dirt. We don’t do manual labor, we think and write papers which our peers are jealous of.”

  Most of the townspeople nodded their agreement,

  “We also need you to get our back wages and benefits paid to us. We haven’t been paid for more than ten months. The shelves in our stores are bare.”

  Shaking his head, the militia messenger holds up his hands to quiet the crowd.

  “Listen up, I told you, I’m not from the government. I’m here to invite you to attend a meeting where local se
curity and resource distribution will be discussed. The rules of the meeting are each town can have a max of two representatives.”

  The crowd yelled, “This isn’t fair. All of our ruling council goes or none of us attend.”

  “That’s up to you. If you change your mind, here’s a map where the meeting will be held.”

  “Where’s our transportation?”

  “God gave you two feet use them.”

  The town’s ruling council stood in shock at his answer. They started to argue with each other. None thought it was a good idea for them to walk, they continued to scream at the militia demanding they provide the town with transportation.

  The two militia members turn around walking out of the delusional, spoiled town.