Into the Darkness (Book 1): Vigilante

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Into the Darkness (Book 1): Vigilante Page 9

by Deane, Cliff


  Let’s try to take the last one out as a prisoner. We ready?”

  Damn straight was the attitude of this fire team eager for revenge.

  “All right, let’s move out.”

  Once in position, the waiting began and shortly before 1700 hours a shot rang out from inside the Inn just before all of the partiers exited the tavern at one time.

  The bikers and six females were fairly drunk as they made their way to the bikes and just as they began to straddle their rides, Sergeant Carter opened fire followed by the entire fire team. The SAW raked the bikers, sending them flying off of their bikes and face first into the dirt.

  The last man to exit the bar threw his hands high into the air and began screaming, “Don’t shoot.”

  The fire team advanced to the bodies to check for signs of life. Those few left alive were quickly sent to Hell.

  The biker known as Snake was taken alive.

  Once the danger of being shot was over Snake became tough again saying, “You dumb shits, you ain’t got no idea what you just done. Our brothers will go through you like shit through a goose, so you best just let me ride on out of here.”

  One round from Sergeant Carter’s sidearm into the fatty portion of Snake’s left leg ended the conversation as this tough guy began screaming and crying like a ten-year-old little girl, “You shot me, you fucking shot me, oh shit get a doctor.”

  “Mays,” said Sergeant Carter put a plug in the hole in his fat ass then gag his pie hole.

  Simms, go to the bar and see what happened in there.”

  “Roger Sarge, on the way.”

  A few moments later Corporal Simms opened the door and shouted to Sergeant Carter, “Sergeant, you better come in here and see this.”

  Upon entering the Dew Drop Inn Sergeant Carter’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light of its interior and quickly wished they hadn’t. The bar was trashed, and five naked women lay dead on the floor. The Bartender had a bloody third eye in his forehead.

  “Simms get the others and bring all the bodies inside. Place the women and Bartender in chairs and put the dead bikers laid out at the feet of the civilians.”

  “Then what Sarge?”

  “Then what? We burn it to the ground.”

  As the tavern burned the team checked to see if any of the bikes were serviceable. They found two that had been shielded by the beer bellies of the bikers.

  Corporal Carter asked, “Any of you guys know how to ride these things?”

  Corporal Simms and one Private affirmed they knew how and Sergeant Carter ordered them to take the bikes back to Defiance. A couple of working engines could always be of use. Later the mechanics would come back out to see if any others were salvageable.

  Snake continued to fuss through the dirty rag shoved into his mouth, along with crying about his pain, ‘Poor baby’ thought Carter.

  *

  Orderly Room

  Defiance

  Back at Defiance Doctor, Tom was called to look at Snake’s wound. He said, “It’s not too bad, but I’ll have to dig that bullet out before I sew it up.”

  Levi looked at the Doctor and said, “Bones, just stop the bleeding for now. We’ll see about the rest later, okay?”

  Dr. Tom looked closely at the wound and said, “Yeah, sure, the bullet is in the meaty part of this lard ass’s leg. Just let me know when I can dig it out.”

  “Thanks, Bones,” said Levi that’s all for now. Oh, Top is the Mayor in town today?”

  The 1Sgt said, “No sir, he’s at meeting with a couple of other mayors today to talk about trade.”

  Levi said, “Pity, say Top, do we have a chair that will take the weight of this lard ass?”

  “Oh, yes sir,” said the 1Sgt as he directed the Runner to move the chair behind Snake.”

  The Runner removed the gag and pushed Snake into the chair.

  Levi said, “Snake, you fucked up. You killed three A Troopers today, and I want to know why.”

  Snake winced in pain, but defiantly spit on the shipping pallet floor and said, “That was just for starters. You are all dead; you just don’t know it yet. We are gonna’ make you pay for this.”

  Having read the motorcycle club patch on Snake’s leathers, Levi asked, “Who are The Death Dealers, Snake?”

  Snake laughed, which caused him some pain, but he still said, “We are the future you dumbass. We will control all of Eastern North Carolina from LeJeune to the South Carolina border. Give us a year, and it’s a done deal.”

  “But Snake,” said Levi, “We don’t plan to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Give you that year. Where is the rest of the gang?”

  Snake laughed again and said, “Gang? We ain’t no gang; we are a motorcycle club.”

  “Snake, I don’t like asking twice.” Top hand me one of the rubber gloves Doc left for us.”

  “Yes sir, and sir, may I do the honors. He murdered my guys too.”

  “Sure Top, go ahead.”

  Snake shouted, “Whatever you’re thinkin’ of doin’ just forget it. I want a lawyer. This conversation is over. I got my rights.”

  “Rights, yeah, okay, we agree you do have the following rights: the right to answer my questions, the right to remain silent, but that’s gonna’ hurt. Say Top, can you think of any other rights Snake has?”

  “No sir, can’t say I do. May I continue sir?”

  Levi looked into Snake’s eyes and said, “Snake this is going to hurt you a hell of a lot more than any of us. Go ahead Top.”

  “Wait!” screamed Snake, “You can’t do this ‘cause I said I wanted a lawyer.”

  “First Sergeant, have you seen any lawyers lately?”

  “No sir, nary a one and with that he ripped the patch off Snake’s leg and quickly stuffed it into Snake’s mouth. He then inserted his finger into the wound and began probing for the bullet.”

  Snake screamed through his gag.

  “Any luck?”

  “No sir, but I’ll find it…eventually.”

  Snake folded up like a cheap suit. “Okay, okay, what do you want to know?”

  “Snake I told you that I don’t like repeating myself…First Sergeant, try again to find that bullet.”

  “No, please no. The boys are meeting at one of the hotels on Virginia Dare in Kill Devil Hills.”

  “Come on Snake, when?”

  “Please,” begged Snake, “if I tell you they’ll kill me.”

  Levi smiled an evil grin and said, “Snake, you really don’t need to worry about them. They will never be allowed to kill you. You have my word.

  First Sergeant, the bullet?”

  “No! Wait, it’ll take another two or three days to get everyone there.”

  “Which is it Snake, two or three days?”

  “I don’t know; the first ones should get there in a couple of days.”

  “How many Snake?”

  “I don’t know, fifty or sixty. It depends on how many bikes they could get running.”

  “Now, that wasn’t so hard was it Snake?

  First Sergeant arrange for a twenty-five man force prepared to move out this evening for the beach, and bring Snake along.”

  Snake’s leg was now truly paining him, and he said, “Now will you go get that fucking doctor? I need pain meds.”

  “Now Snake, you know we don’t have extra pain meds for murderous bastards like you, right?”

  *

  “The best-laid schemes of mice and men

  Oft do go awry.”

  Robert Burns

  April 13th 0730

  Advance Scouts

  Virginia Dare Dr,

  Kill Devil Hills

  Voices calling out through makeshift megaphones warned civilians in the area to remain in their homes.

  “Residents of Kill Devil Hills, Virginia Dare Drive is temporarily under Martial Law by order of the Defiance Militia Commander, Colonel Levi Levins.

  You are ordered to remain in your homes until further notice.
A murderous motorcycle gang is heading this way. We will not let them harm you.

  As soon as this action is complete, we will depart, and you may return to your normal routine.”

  This message was repeated up and down Virginia Dare Drive. The Troopers had no way of knowing that there was no one along Virginia Dare to hear them as food was gone, and so were the people.

  Snake’s body hung limply from a lamp post and was riddled with bullets. His body had been used to zero A Trooper rifles. Around his neck hung a large sign which read:

  ‘Warning, I was a murdering rapist. I made the mistake of killing three Troopers of Troop A, Defiance Militia.

  I was captured, and I spilled my guts about the plans of my rat bastard brotherhood known as The Death Dealers.

  Snake

  Notice:

  Attacking Militia Forces of Defiance will never go unpunished.

  The only possible sentence is DEATH.

  Anyone seen wearing leathers with The Death Dealers logo

  will be shot on sight.

  L.Levins

  Levi L. Levins,

  Colonel, Commanding

  In the buildings surrounding Snake’s body, twenty-one Troopers of A Troop lay in concealed positions patiently awaiting the arrival of The Death Dealers. Two four-man ambush positions were established on Virginia Dare Dr. at five-hundred yards on opposing ends of the kill zone to ensure that no Death Dealer could escape A Troop’s ambush.

  At 1030 hours on April 9th the first motorcycles could be heard approaching. Troopers assumed their positions in upper floor windows and rooftops. Members of this gang of rogue bikers had murdered their friends, and the Troopers wanted blood.

  This grouping consisted of ten bikes and the body hanging from the lamp post enticed the bikers to approach. One dismounted to read the sign. As he finished, he flashed the signal to fire by turning around.

  Withering fire erupted from all around Snake’s lifeless body, within five seconds; sixteen bodies lay dead at his feet.

  Throughout the day groups of bikers rode onto Virginia Dare Drive. They all thought a battle had been fought there and the survivors had left…until one of them read the sign and turned around.

  By dark, there were sixty-three dead men and women laid out before Snake’s ever stretching neck. None had escaped, and no more arrived.

  The bodies were placed in an arc around Snake’s hanging body and left in the street to rot.

  ***

  Chapter 16

  The Horse Cavalry

  Colonel Levins’ Office

  Defiance

  1st Sgt Cobb tapped on Colonel Levins door and said, “Sir? I’ve got Mr. Leon Pickett here to see you. “Oh, good, I’m glad he could make it so quickly. Please send him in. I want you in here too, 1st Sgt.

  “Roger, sir. Mr. Pickett would you, please come into Colonel Levins’ Office?” asked the 1st Sgt.

  Leon Pickett, a 35-year-old man of average height, a face already showing lines from years in a saddle in the North Carolina sun entered the Colonel’s Office dressed in riding boots, jeans, plaid shirt, and cowboy hat in hand.

  Levis’ first impression was a strong-willed individual more comfortable in the saddle than on his feet. This image was heightened by the fact that Leon Pickett appeared to be so bowlegged that he couldn’t stop a pig in the middle of the road. Both the Colonel and his 1st Sgt liked him immediately.

  Levi rose, walked around his desk, and approached this man with the extended hand of welcome.

  “Mr. Pickett, I am truly glad to meet you.” said a broad smiling Colonel Levins. “I presume you know why I’ve asked you here, so let’s get to know each other before getting down to business.

  1st Sgt, please ask the clerk to bring in a pot of coffee, and some of Cook’s fresh muffins.”

  “Roger that, sir.” 1st Sgt Cobb went to the door, and called to his clerk, “Corporal Jones, please see about getting some coffee and muffins in here.” Corporal Jones, a young man of 25, standing 5’9” with a disarming smile, grinned at his 1st Sgt and replied, “Already on the way Top. Be back in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thanks, pal, and grab one for yourself, too,” smiled the 1st Sgt.

  “Thanks, Top; like I wouldn’t anyway.”

  All three took their coffee black. Leon looked up after stuffing a bite of muffin in his mouth. He looked over at Levi and said, “Genrul, my puhsonal background is pretty simple. I grew up ‘bout 10 miles from here ovuh in Miller’s Ford. Got me a bachelor's degree from North Carolina in animal husbandry. Back then, I thought I might be a vet, but it didn’t take me long before I realized I was better settin’ a horse than lookin’ up its ass. So, I come back here, and here's where I stayed. Except for three years in the Army over in Baumholder, Germany. Cavalry Officer, a course, to First Lieutenant.

  Genrul, as you know, I ramrod the Lykes Brothers Ranch. Now they ain’t much been around for years, but ever year, one of their accountants comes by and goes over the books with my bookkeeper. Now from what I can glean from the lack of any TV or radio, I’d guess that since they’re in New York. It would seem to me that it is unlikely we'll ever see ‘em again.

  So, with that in mind, I figure you'll want access to that 400 head of cattle, and 40 quarter horses, plus, we got wild hogs we’re feedin’ out.

  To run the spread, I got me sixteen employees, one bookkeeper, one cook, one blacksmith, one mechanic with a state of the art equipment-shed, two fence riders, and ten all-around cowboys, who do all the ridin’ work on the place.

  So, the way I see it, Genrul Levins is that the spread is probably going to end up as mine. However, since Y'all called me down here I figger you plan on takin’ it away from me. That so?”

  Colonel Levins smiled and said, “Tell me, Leon, how often does that good old country boy, down home dialectic crap really work? I mean, hell, it surely does sound real homey, and you know damned well I’m a Colonel, not a Genrul.”

  Leon Pickett smiled impishly at the Colonel and sneaked a peek over at the 1st Sgt saying, “Actually sir, you'd be surprised how often that poor old dumb Southern country boy routine puts Yankees at ease. Moreover, it often gives me a bit of an advantage. I hope it didn't put you off?”

  “Leon, I think we’re going to get along fine.

  Here's the deal from my perspective. As far as I'm concerned the spread is yours, but I need you, your ranch hands, your expertise, and everything you've got on that spread.

  Times have changed dramatically, and I do not see it going back to what we considered normal in our lifetime, and probably not in our grandchildren's lifetime.

  I never thought I would say this, but I need horse cavalry, and I need it yesterday. It sounds to me like you've got a good start, with ten troopers. We need a hundred.

  I'm willing to reinstate your commission to First Lieutenant. When you have forty mounted cavalry, I will make you a Captain. Get five hundred, and you'll be a Lieutenant Colonel.

  When his mess is over, if it ever is, and there's no legal claim by the Lykes Brothers themselves, then this spread is yours. Fair enough?”

  “And if I say no? What happens then?” asked Leon.

  Levi leaned across the desk, his eyes becoming blue steel. “Then, Mr. Pickett we have a problem that I see no easy way to fix. Please do not misunderstand me. I do not want to take over your ranch. What we do want can be summed up as allies.

  We do not want to take your beef or horses. We want to trade for them.

  What we want is for you and your cowboys to join the Defiance Militia and form Troop B, Mounted Cavalry.

  Leon, you must understand that if you turn us down, we are not going to attack you or steal what you have. What we will do is deny any support when, not if, but when your very tempting spread is attacked. Then we’ll go in and take it away from those who killed you.

  The bottom line is you need us, and we need you. Together we are a strong force, separate…not so much.”

  “That’s not what I figu
red you would say. In fact, it is a much better offer than I expected. I agree with every aspect of your rationale and proposal, but for the record, just how long are we signing up for?”

  “Lieutenant, I figure you’ll be old, dead and buried before you sees the end of your enlistment. No, wait I can be a bit more definitive, we’ll retire when our Alzheimer’s kick in. So, whada’ya say?”

  Leon began to smile and said, “Sir, please tell me more of how you see our future playing out.”

  “Well, LT, we know that a Coronal Mass Ejection from our sun just squeaked by without making a direct hit on the Earth…

  …so, there you have it. We are calling this, year zero, but for your reference, I’d say our way of life could become historically similar to around 1850. You in?”

  “OK, Colonel, I believe you. Do we get cavalry uniforms?”

  Colonel Levins smiled, stuck out his hand to now First Lieutenant Pickett, and asked, “Gray or Blue?”

  “Well, sir, I can sign up thirty or forty cowboys born to the saddle within, say, three days…”

  Levi sat up in his chair and said, “Did you say, thirty or forty? This is North Carolina, not Texas. Are there that many cowboys in North Carolina?”

  “Oh, yes sir, there are over five thousand cattle ranches in North Carolina. You see, people think of cowboys as being from Texas, but we are also here. The thing is, you just can’t see us from the road.”

  Levi sat back and said, “Sorry for interupting, please continue.”

  “Yes, sir, as I was sayin’ all of them were born to the saddle, right here in eastern North Carolina.

  My guess is that all of them would prefer the gray of their ancestors. Sir, please forgive me for askin’, but what kind’a gray uniform are all Y'all wearin'. You know, with just a tweak or two like addin’ a yella stripe down the legs, suspenders and a yella kerchief. Truth is, I like the color of the uniform that you’re wearing’,” said Lt. Pickett?

 

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