Once Upon an Apocalypse: Book 1 - The Journey Home - Revised Edition

by JEFF MOTES

  The woman’s screams and pleas persist. My moral fabric is being torn. Jill is tearing up.

  She says, “John, I can fight. I can fight with you!”

  How can I tell her what I feel? I want to fight, but I want her to live. Both can’t happen.

  “John, is there any way? I trust you with more than my life. Tell me, is there any way?”

  My mind is racing as I rapidly run through scenarios in my mind. They all end with me dead and Jill brutally raped and tortured. I can see no way. The screaming stops. There are tears in my eyes too. The screams begin again.

  Inside I plead, Dear God, show me a way!

  Then a faint voice from deep inside says, “Fear not, for I am with you. I will not leave you, nor will I forsake you.”

  Jill touches my arm. She is looking directly into my eyes. “John, I trust you more than you will ever know. Whatever you decide, I am with you. Whatever you do, I will not leave you, nor will I forsake you.”

  I am a good man. Jill is a good woman. We both refuse to do nothing.

  “We can try. I don’t know if we can succeed, yet we can try, but Jill, it may cost us our lives, and maybe more.”

  She gazes steadily into my eyes. “I will fight with you and I will fight for you.”

  I nod. “Okay, let’s move quickly, we can’t keep her from being raped, but we might be able to save her and her husband’s lives. We’ll take our packs and the shotgun. Bring your Ruger, magazines, and ammo.”

  Jill picks up her rifle. Her Glock and radio are already on her side.

  “Follow me quietly. No matter what you see happening when we get there, you must not make a sound, Jill, do you understand?”

  “I won’t let you down.”

  I crouch as I enter the wash, and glance back to see Jill is doing the same and following a few steps back. At the spot where I was earlier I motion for her to get down. She does, and we remove our packs. I rise and scan around. The scene has changed some. The woman is on the ground about twenty yards away. One man is kneeling by her head, another is on top of her. Those damn evil bastards! The black man is being held between two of the other bastards, a little further away, past the truck. The leader is the only one with an AK in his hand. The others are either leaning against trees or the truck. The black man’s face shows signs of a brutal beating.

  I sit back down and whisper close to Jill’s ear, “This is what we are going to do. Right in front of us is the woman being assaulted by two of the bastards. I need you to take those two out with your Ruger. Do it just like we did with the targets. Head shots. Shoot the first three times, then move to the second, then back to the first. Keep firing until they are down or you run out of ammo. Understand?”

  Jill says, “Yes.”

  “I’m going to move back around through the woods to the other side of the truck so I can get a shot at the other three. When I get into position, I’ll click the radio mic three times. When I do, count to five, then start shooting. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “It’s going to take me a little time to get to where I need to be. No matter what you see, do not do anything until you get the signal from me. If you do anything before I contact you, we will both be killed. Do you understand?”

  “John, I’m with you. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

  “I’m going to leave the shotgun here for a backup for you. If anybody approaches, switch to the shotgun. Let’s radio check.” The radios check good.

  I start to rise, then sink back down. I look directly into Jill’s eyes for a moment. I may never see those beautiful green eyes again. I place my hand behind her neck and my forehead on hers. There is so much I want to say, but there is no time.

  “Jill, I…I…”

  The screams become louder. My mind becomes refocused on the task at hand.

  “All right, Jill, remember, the bad guys are all white. Don’t shoot the black man or the black woman. Now rise up but not all the way.”

  She does and her hand covers her mouth in horror. Her eyes are wide as the scene unfolds before her. I squeeze her shoulder. She looks over at me, her expression changing from fear and horror, to determination and anger.

  I head back into the woods, searching for a way to cross over without being seen.

  Once across the road and about ten yards in, I work my way toward the opening. There is no wash here for cover, and the brush is low and patchy. I position myself about twenty-five yards from the three bastards. Two of them are holding the man. The leader has his AK in his hands. He walks over and slaps the man again and hollers over at the bastards assaulting the woman, “Hurry up, damn it! All this screaming is giving me a damn headache! Carl, when you get through, knife her!”

  It’s now or never. I position the carbine and place the red dot on the leader’s head. I click the mic three times, then count to five. The instant I hear the sounds of the Ruger, I squeeze the trigger on my carbine. The bastard’s head explodes and he falls to the ground. I swing to the bastard on the right, but now there is a struggle. All three men are moving. The black man is fighting back fiercely. I take a couple of shots. They go wide. Finally, the black man is able to knock the bastard on the right to the ground. The black man and the other bastard struggle together as they fall to the ground on the left. I start firing at the one on the right. My first few shots miss, as the man is moving rapidly. He pulls his pistol then drops it as I get two rounds into his neck. He stops moving all around and rocks in place, clutching his throat. The bastard on the left has managed to slug the black man with something shiny, then runs for the truck. I fire as he runs, missing several times. One bullet catches him in the leg and he stumbles. He is almost to the cover of the truck. I jump up and run through the brush, trying to get in for a better shot. I’ve lost count on the number of shots I’ve fired. He is standing in front of the truck, reaching for an AK. I fire two more shots, hitting him in his tactical vest. He falls to the ground and reaches for his pistol. I fire again. Click. The magazine is empty. There’s no time to reload. I drop the carbine to the ground and pull my Glock, running in closer. I put several rounds into the guy in front of me before I can get two to his head. I change my aim to the bastard I shot in the throat and put two rounds into his head.

  Running toward where the woman is, I can’t hear Jill firing. It may be because the Glock is so loud. The bastard who was on top of the woman is trying to get to his knees. I put three shots into his body, then one to his head. I turn to the last man. It’s the giant. There is blood streaming from his face where Jill’s bullets impacted. The bastard is going for his AK. I’m only a few feet away. I fire two shots into his chest when the Glock runs dry. The 9mm rounds hardly phase the man. He has the AK in his right hand and is swinging it around. I drop my pistol and step in. As the barrel of the AK comes around, I grab it with my left hand and push it away to the left. The bastard pulls the trigger. A full automatic burst of fire spews thirty rounds of 7.62 124 grain projectiles out the barrel in less than three seconds. The hot barrel burns my hand, but I ignore the pain. I step in and do a side chop kick to his right knee. His leg buckles and he falls back, pulling the AK and me down with him. The impact causes us both to release the AK. I start pounding on the bastard. He is too big and too strong; I can’t stay on the ground with him. I roll away and rise to my feet searching for my Glock.

  He’s too fast. He is up and has a wicked looking knife in his left hand. He lunges straight for me. I step back and to the side with my left foot and turn my body to the side as the blade passes by, tearing the front of my shirt. As the blade moves in front of me, I grab his left wrist with my left hand and twist it over as hard as I can, bringing his elbow to the top and locking his arm straight out. I step in quickly, raising my right arm. Using all my strength and twisting my body to add as much of my weight as I can, I smash down with the back of my forearm directly onto the bastard’s elbow. Pain radiates through my entire arm and shoulder from the impact as I feel the bas
tard’s elbow shatter and dislocate. He screams in pain and rage, yet the giant bastard recovers quickly and swings a massive right hand at my head. He is very fast. I block the punch, but not completely. Instead of landing on my jaw, his fist glances off the side of my head above my left ear. The force is staggering. My knees start to buckle and I back away, trying to regain control of myself. The bastard is relentless and he pounces on me, sending me to the ground.

  I land on my back; he is on me, hammering my face with his massive right fist. I can’t sustain many more of these blows. I’ve never felt anything like them before. I manage to grab his dangling left arm and bend it. The hammer blows stop as he screams in pain. He snatches the knife up from the ground. Despite the pain, he rears back and plunges the knife down toward my chest. I let go of his left arm and manage to catch his right wrist with both hands, stopping its downward path to my heart. The bastard is yelling a string of obscenities as he leans his massive weight onto his right arm. I feel my strength failing as the knife inches closer to my chest. It’s only a matter of seconds before my strength fails completely and the knife plunges into my heart.

  I say one last silent prayer before I meet my fate.

  “God, please protect Jill!”

  Chapter 52

  Jill

  Theo and Cassandra

  Day 10

  John sits back down in the wash. He is looking into my eyes. I see something there I haven't seen before. He places his hand behind my neck and bends his head to mine. Despite all the turmoil around me, time seems to stop.

  “Jill, I…I….”

  Oh! He's going to say the three words I so want to hear! The woman’s screaming jolts us back to reality and John’s mind moves back to the conflict at hand.

  He says, “All right, Jill, rise up, but not all the way.”

  I do. The scene before me is horrific. Inside I scream, Oh, dear God! The woman is being brutally assaulted. I want to throw up, I want to scream, I want to kill those evil men! I cover my mouth for fear the sound may come out. John squeezes my shoulder and looks into my eyes. He is willing me his strength. I will not let him down. I settle in behind my Ruger, deciding which evil man I will kill first.

  John heads into the woods.

  I want to close my eyes. I don’t want to see what is happening before me. I’m going to throw up. Dropping back down in the wash, I bend over and heave. I’m trying to be silent, but I can’t cover all the sound. After a few seconds, I return to my rifle.

  John, please hurry!

  How can such evil exist? I must stop crying. It’s making my vision blurry. I force myself to calm down. After what seems like an eternity, I hear the radio click three times. I start counting. One, two, three, four, fire! I send three 22 caliber projectiles flying into the head of the man on top of the woman. I swing my aim to the other evil man. The giant is looking straight at me. I fire three more rapid shots. I see them impact the man’s face. I swing back to the first guy. He’s trying to sit up, and I put the remaining four shots into his neck and jaws.

  I change magazines, then pull the bolt handle back to load a round from the new magazine, but it won’t move forward. I try again. It still doesn’t work. I turn the gun on its side and look into the chamber. There is a spent case still partially inside the chamber! I hear the sound of John’s Glock barking loudly.

  Oh, dear God! John needs my help!

  I try to clear the jam, but the adrenaline has degraded my fine motor skills. My fingers won’t work properly. I look up in frustration and fear. John is in among them firing his Glock. The man trying to rise from the woman is shot down. The giant is reaching for his AK. I see John’s bullets impacting the giant’s chest, but they have no effect on him. It’s all happening so fast! John’s pistol is on the ground. I hear the sound and see the fire spit from the AK. The man and John are both falling to the ground.

  John is in mortal combat with the giant. I must act now! I dash from the wash, bringing the shotgun with me. I run through the brush, limbs scratching my face. I hear the giant scream in pain, but I hear nothing from John. I see the giant on top of John, pounding him! I’m almost there. A knife! He has a knife reared back to kill the only man who has ever cared for me! I raise the shotgun and pull the trigger, but it doesn’t fire! I don’t know how to work the gun! The knife plunges down.

  “Noooo!” I race closer and pull my Glock. I start shooting the giant in his side. Once, twice, three times before he releases the knife. The knife falls the remaining few inches and sticks John in the chest! I continue firing. The giant either falls, or is pushed by John, to the side. I walk closer, continuing my steady rate of fire into the evil human being. My Glock runs dry and I start changing the magazine. Incredibly, the giant is still moving. John now has the knife in his hand and he plunges it into the side of the evil man’s head. John is now on his hands and knees. He sees his Glock, and crawling to it, he changes magazines, then stands on unsure legs. His gun is at the ready as he looks around. I know he is dazed from such a fierce beating. I holster my Glock and raise my hands to the side.

  He turns toward me and I see recognition is in his eyes. I run to him and wrap my arms around him. “Oh, John!”

  They’re the only words I can say, as the emotions pour out of my soul. I hold him tight never wanting to let go. From the corner of my eye I see the naked woman running to the man on the ground. She bends over him.

  “Jill, get your pack and help her,” John says. “I’m okay.”

  The left side of his face is red and swollen from the massive blows of the giant and his shirt has a red spot of blood from his chest. I don’t want to leave him.

  He says, “Help her first, then you can help me.”

  I run back for our packs. John’s is too heavy. I open his pack and retrieve his first aid kit and his trauma kit. There will be more supplies in his kits than in mine. I run back with my pack slung over one shoulder. John is not far from the man and woman, picking up his carbine and changing the magazine. The woman is still naked, trying to revive the man on the ground. I kneel by him, open the pack, and give her a bottle of water. She immediately opens it and starts rinsing her mouth. I hand her the soap and towel from my hygiene kit. She reaches for them, looking me straight in the eyes.

  Her face is swollen and there are tears in her eyes, but she is not in shock. She says, “Thank you. Those…those…animals burnt my clothes.”

  Understanding, I pull out the remaining clean clothes I have and hand them to her, along with another bottle of water. She stands and walks to the other side of the truck, passing John as she does.

  Getting another cloth from my bag, I wet it with water from the remaining plastic water bottle. I start wiping the man’s face. It’s bloody and swollen. He starts coming around and begins to struggle, not quite fully conscious. He calls out, “Cassandra!”

  The woman says, “I’m here, Theo. I’m coming.” She comes from around the truck. She has the pants on and is buttoning the shirt. She runs to his side, kneels down, and cradles his head. “I’m here, baby. Everything is going to be okay.” I hand her the wet cloth.

  Rising, I search for John. He is sitting next to a tree, slumped over. His shirt is open and I can see the knife wound. It’s still bleeding. I get his first aid kit and run to him. He looks up and smiles. Even though the swelling in his face causes it to be crooked, I think it is beautiful. I kneel beside him and open the first aid kit, retrieve some gauze, and start cleaning the wound. Thankfully, it’s not very deep. I clean it and apply two steri-strips. After putting some antibiotic cream on it, I cover it with non-adhesive gauze and tape it in place. My hand is on his chest and I look at him; he is looking in my eyes.

  “Jill, if we ever make it home, I have something I want to say to you.”

  Looking intently into his eyes I say, “You can say it to me right now, if you want.”

  Then the woman screams.

  Chapter 53

  John

  The Perry County Militia<
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  Day 10

  Reluctantly, I urge Jill to leave me and help the woman. I need her embrace; it gives me peace, comfort, and strength. The beating I took from that giant bastard will be painful for days. Every part of my body hurts. My head is throbbing. I haven’t been in a physical altercation since…since the incident with Clyde Baker more than fifteen years ago. Unbuttoning my shirt, I check the knife wound. It isn’t bad, but it’s still bleeding a little. The bastard was just too powerful. If Jill had not been there, I would be dead.

  Dear God, thank You for Jill!

  I go over for my carbine, passing the woman and the man on the ground. She glances up at me when I walk by. There is nothing I can personally do for her. The last thing she’ll want right now is another man around her, especially a white man. She is still naked and her face is puffy from abuse, yet she is beside her husband, trying to revive him. Women are so much stronger than men, they truly are. Not physically, but in nearly every other way they are.

  Jill is going for our med kits and should be back shortly. However, the help that woman truly needs, I doubt Jill can provide.

  When I bend over to pick up my carbine I almost fall, dizzy and lightheaded. The giant bastard landed too many blows. My head hurts. It hurts bad. A few more blows and I would have been gone. I would be dead now if Jill had not saved my life. The words she spoke come back to mind, “Whatever you do, I will not leave you, nor will I forsake you…I will fight with you and I will fight for you.”

  She didn’t leave me and she did fight for me.

  I whisper a prayer, “Dear God, for Your mighty hedge of protection, I give thanks.”

  Jill is beside the woman now. I avoid looking in that direction, knowing the woman is still naked. A few moments later she walks by with a bundle in her arms. She doesn’t say anything, nor does she shrink away. I move off to give her the privacy she deserves. Finding a tree with some shade, I sit down. This whole encounter, from the first shot fired to the last, lasted less than five minutes. Five minutes, yet I feel as though I’ve been through hell and back. I’m not a soldier, I only did what had to be done. I’m glad I took the time, through the years, to prepare myself mentally and physically for hard times. The scene flashes through my mind. The knife descending, my death imminent, and then Jill fighting to keep me alive. She’s helping the man now. I remember what her father told me only a few months ago.