by S. Ison
Muzzles flashed sporadically, the reports echoing off the dead buildings, and the light from a flashlight moved unsteadily toward where the bodies had fallen. As the floating light moved closer, Mike could make out two men, moving at a crouch.
Mike guessed they thought they were keeping anyone from shooting them. A smile slowly crossed his face. Those men were scared. If the hacked-up bodies hadn’t unnerved them already, the four dead men would.
“That’s for you, buddy,” Mike said softly to Stephen. He knew he was imagining things, but he felt as though his friend was near. He hoped he was.
He and Jada watched from their vantage point as the light moved over the bodies one by one. Then it bounced off the walls of the buildings around them. The pair pulled back from the window, not wanting to be seen.
It was some time before Mike dared to peek back out. Jada sat down on the floor beside him. He kept vigil for a while, until he saw the flashlight retreat back up the street. The shooting had ceased, and the crickets began to chirp again.
Mike sighed heavily. They’d done it. He slid to the ground beside Jada and he felt her lay her head on his shoulder.
“What a day,” she said in a drowsy voice.
“Yeah. Guess we better get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day, and I’m pretty sure they’ll tear this area apart looking for us,” Mike said softly, shifting his body to better accommodate Jada’s form. He curled an arm around her and rested his head against the wall.
Mike’s breath began to slow, his body to relax. They’d done well. He was proud of Jada and himself. They’d kept their cool and taken those bastards out. They could relax for the night and get some rest.
Jada’s body melted in slumber. She was surprisingly heavy and warm. Mike shifted and brought them both down to the floor. Curling his arm under his head, he wrapped the other around Jada. He kept his hand on his weapon, ready should they be found.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina
Randal watched Mr. Smith play with Mean Dog. The three-legged dog kept up well with the larger dog. Randal smiled and turned back to the chain link fence he and Clive were erecting. All the men had pulled together to find materials to enclose all the houses with.
It had been a huge project, and there was still a significant gap in front of his home. The rest of the homes were surrounded by high, fabricated fences. Any fence could be broached, but the purpose was to create a delay, giving them the time they needed to organize their defense.
They could only hold this small piece of land, but hold it they had to. Their very lives depended on it. This was no movie or over-the-top drama – much as it felt like it every day – it was life and death reality. Something new for everyone. They’d all grown up in a fairly safe era, in a safe country.
They just couldn’t lose their food supplies and their gardens. Whatever stumbling blocks they could put in the way of any trespassers would be a good thing.
David and May were up in his home with Pearl, David monitoring the radio and May teaching Greg. Randal knew Pearl was sitting in on the teaching. Randal smiled. Pearl wanted to help with the teaching.
He paused, took a rag out of his back pocket and wiped his forehead. It was hot today. Where the heck is spring? he thought. A jug of sun-warmed water sat out on the table. Not very appealing, but necessary. He walked over and poured some into plastic cups for himself and Clive.
“It is damn hot out here. Maybe we should do this in the early morning from now on, or the late evenings,” Clive said, and drank from his cup.
“Yeah, I expect you’re right on the money. I don’t think we’re going to get a spring. Talk about jumping right into summer.” Randal said. “I’m glad you decided to move in, though I wish you’d move up into the house.”
“I like your garage. It’s cool down there and I catch the breeze. Maybe when it starts getting cold again, I’ll move upstairs,” Clive said.
“I think it is a smart move, at least for now. With your house being farther away, it is just too hard to defend,” Randal said.
“I agree, and besides, I spend more time here anyway,” Clive grinned. “And it’s so great that Roy found all that food, isn’t it? I still can’t believe it. So much. We should be set for most anything now.” Roy had found an absolute treasure trove of food in the cafeteria at the elementary school.
“It takes a lot of pressure off, that’s for sure. And those pinto beans are a godsend. We can plant those and have even more beans,” Randal said.
They’d really hit the food lottery, finding large cans of fruits, vegetables, sauces, and other canned mixes.
“I’m really happy about the mash potato mixes. I just wish we had butter,” Clive said.
“I think I saw powdered butter, as well as bags and bags of flour, pastas, rice, tea bags, thank god, and so much more,” Randal said, his mind calculating all the dinners they could make.
“It has definitely extended our menu, that is for sure,” Clive replied. “The school must have put supplies in place for the upcoming fall session.”
“Yeah,” Randal agreed, “and I think that because the kitchen was deep in the building, the temperature stayed mostly constant.”
Randal had made many trips, filling the back of his truck with the goods. They were now spread out between all the occupied homes, ensuring that each home guarded the foodstuffs.
Randal picked his shovel up and turned to begin a new hole. The fence around the school had been disassembled, and the posts dug up, along with the concrete footing. He and Clive were busy setting them back in the ground for the six-foot fence. Some of the chain link had come from the school, and was eight feet high.
Randal and Clive turned at the same time when they heard the screen door slam open. Pearl stood at the top of the stairs, her face in a rictus of fear.
“What is it Pearl?” Randal asked, his heart jumping into his throat.
“We just got a call. Johnny Lee says they’re under attack.”
“Damnit. Call Reed and Jimmy. Tell them to get to the Isle of Palms. We’ll go down and help. Have Roy and Laura come here. You stay here and shoot anyone you see.”
Randal ran into the house to fetch his rifle and backpack. He also carried a .38 mm revolver in a makeshift holster around his narrow waist.
He nodded to Clive, who’d fetched his rifle – a deer rifle he’d found while scavenging. Both jumped into the truck and drove two blocks up the street to the gate. Clive jumped out, unlocked the gate, and pulled it open. Randal drove through, and Clive secured the gate behind them.
Five minutes later, they arrived at the inlet bridge and crossed over it. As they drew closer to the blockade, gunfire could be heard. Randal slowed down and pulled the truck over. They got out.
The pair worked their way toward the blockade, going through backyards and around abandoned homes. He spotted Reed and Jimmy doing the same down the other side of the road, and waved. Jimmy saw him, and tapped Reed on the shoulder.
Reed indicated that they were to continue as they were. They knew to keep their locations in mind to reduce chance of crossfire.
The gunshots were sporadic, and as Randal moved closer, he could see Johnny Lee crouched behind a car. The man was bleeding from his shoulder, but was still using the arm to hold the gun.
Randal followed Johnny Lee’s gaze. The muzzle of a rifle poked out of a window of a house across the road. Through another window, he could see two men, crouching by the curtains. It looked like there were four people in the house.
“This could go on all day,” Clive whispered.
“Yeah. Those bastards are dug in like ticks on a hound. Pass me the walkie-talky,” Randal said. He could feel adrenaline pump through him.
He took the walky-talky and turned the volume right down. “Reed, this is Randal. Over.”
“Go ahead. Over.” Reed’s voice came over, quiet but clear.
“You got matches or a lighter? Over,” Randal asked.
“Roger. You want me to encourage them to vacate? Over,” Reed asked.
“Roger. Out,” Randal said.
He and Clive got into position. He took the rag from his pocket and waved it at Johnny Lee. The movement caught the other man’s eye. Relief flooded the man’s face.
Something moved behind Johnny Lee, and Randal saw Johnny Lee was shielding Teddy. Two other men were farther back, crouched behind the barricade. They were taking pot shots at the house.
Randal waited. He wondered if Reed was having a problem, but then wisps of smoke floated out from behind the house.
He lifted his rifle and took aim at the front door. “I’ve got the front door. You cover one of the windows,” Randal said to Clive in a low voice.
He propped his rifle on a brick that jutted out from the side of the house for stability. Then he waited.
It was some minutes before more smoke roiled out from behind the house. Randal guessed the men inside hadn’t noticed it yet. Then he heard a powerful boom. Reed’s Glock. Someone was trying to go out the back.
Then all hell broke loose as the men inside began to shoot. Two rushed out the front door and Randal fired. He hit the first man in the chest, bringing him down. He was trying to sight the next man when he dropped.
Clive fired, and another man fell. Reed’s Glock boomed out again, the report reverberating off the nearby houses.
Silence fell. Everyone waited.
“Anyone else better come out now or we’ll let you burn to death,” Reed called out.
Randal had just begun to relax when another shot rang out, answered by Reed’s gun. Apparently, they’d thought they could shoot their way out. A fatal mistake.
“Anybody else want to eat some lead? Or burn? Come out, hands high in the air. Now!” Johnny Lee called.
“I’m comin’ out,” a voice called out, cracking with fear.
“I better see them hands or I’ll blow your sorry ass to hell,” Johnny Lee yelled.
Randal stood slowly, lowering his gun. He watched as a thin teen walked out of the front door, hands raised in the air.
“Anybody else in there with you, boy?” Randal called, his voice sounded harsh, even to himself.
“Well, shit heel?” Johnny Lee called.
“No sir, just me. I’m it,” the teen called, their face sweaty, filthy, and wet with tears.
The men slowly walked toward the teen, all guns aimed at him. Everyone’s face was hard with rage. Reed and Jimmy came around the house.
The smoke started to dissipate, and Randal figured it was dying out. They wouldn’t have to fight a fire. Johnny Lee extend his hand and winced, pain flashing across his face. Teddy’s shaking hand reached up to grab the older man’s hand.
Everyone gathered around the dirty teen, and Johnny Lee backhanded the youth with his good hand, causing the boy to cry out and drop to his knees.
“Is anyone else coming?” Johnny Lee snarled, his voice dangerously low.
“Not here,” the young man said, holding a hand to his bloody mouth and nose.
“What the hell do you mean ‘not here’?” Randal barked, his fear going up a notch.
“It was just us here, but three went to ya’ll’s island. We was suppose ta hit at the same time. Keepin’ ya’ll off kilter,” the boy said, and spat blood onto the ground.
“Fuck!” Reed said, turning to Randal. “We gotta get back fast.”
“You got this, Johnny Lee?” Randal said, turning and running for his truck.
Clive, Reed, and Jimmy jumped into the truck as Randal came around to the driver’s side. He clambered in, backed up, and spun back toward Sullivan’s Island. He didn’t hear Johnny Lee’s response.
⅏
Johnny Lee watched the truck skid out of sight. He then turned toward the teen, his eyes narrowing. One of his man came up and took a look at his shoulder.
“Just a graze, no serious damage,” the man said.
“Good. Now kid, how do you wanna die? I can hang ya, or blow yur friggin’ brains out,” Johnny Lee asked.
The boy stared at him goggle-eyed, his bloodshot eyes tearing up. “I ain’t shot nobody, mister, honest. They forced me to come along,” he said, his voice rising in panic.
“That’s some Billy Bob bullshit. You’re sa full of shit your eyes are brown. How many more cowardly bastards are there out there? Are there more on the way?” Johnny Lee shouted, and backhanded the boy again.
“No sir, no. I’m tellin’ the truth. They made me come with them. Said they’d make a man outta me, cause I didn’t want no violence. Said they’d show me what life was like now. And I had to harden up, man up. But I didn’t want to come.” The boy was now crying hard, tears and snot running down his chin to his knees, his hands clutched together, pleading for understanding.
Johnny Lee was about to strike the teen again when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned, surprised, to Teddy, whose face had gone pale. Teddy leaned in close and whispered into Johnny Lee’s ear.
Johnny Lee’s head snapped back as though slapped with a hot iron. He looked hard at Teddy, at the teen on the ground, and back at Teddy. He walked over to the kneeling boy and grabbed him by the shirt front and lifted him to his feet.
“Are you a gal?” he hissed.
The teen’s eyes grew big, and a frightened, hunted look came over her face.
“I asked you a damn question. Are you a girl?” he shouted into the teen’s face.
Mute, the teen nodded her head. Large tears making tracks down her filthy face.
“Yes sir,” she choked out.
“Shit fire and save matches!” Johnny Lee snarled. “What the hell were you doing with these bastards? Why the hell are you mixed up in all this, little girl?”
“They didn’t knowed I was a girl. My momma and daddy died last year. I was all alone and try’n’ to survive. I cut off my hair and dress like a boy, or I’dda gotten raped. That was the only way I could survive,” she said, and busted out crying once more, her body wracked with sobs.
The sight tore at Johnny Lee’s heart. He jerked back, looking around at the other men, at a loss. What the hell was he going to do with this girl? He sure as hell couldn’t send her back out into that hell.
“Stop your cry’n’. I ain’t gonna kill you. What’s your name, gal?” Johnny Lee asked, trying to take the anger out of his voice.
Teddy stepped over and patted the girl on the shoulder awkwardly, smiling at her encouragingly.
“Bobby Lynn, sir,” she said softly, her blue eyes downcast.
“Teddy, take Bobby Lynn to Mrs. Stewart. See if she’ll take her in,” Johnny Lee said, looking hard at the girl.
“You mean you’re gonna let me stay here? You ain’t gonna kick me off the island?” the girl asked.
“Well, it sure as hell wouldn’t be Christian-like if I sent you out there unprotected. What kinda man do you think I am?” Johnny Lee asked, exasperated.
Bobby Lynn sobbed harder and threw herself into Johnny Lee’s arms, clinging to him. “Thank you, sir, thank you. Thank you,” she blubbered wetly.
Johnny Lee’s face went bright red as he pried her off his injured arm. He nodded to Teddy, who led the girl away, a long arm around her shoulder protectively.
Johnny Lee watched after them, and shook his head in bewilderment. It had certainly been one hell of a day.
He looked to the other men and shrugged. “Let’s get this mess cleared up and get these men buried.”
Topsfield, Maine
Tim, Paul, John, and Rob lay prone on the cold damp ground. Though much of the snow had melted, the ground was soggy and bone-chillingly cold. Tim glassed the old farmhouse through his NVGs. A light flickered on the first floor, in what looked to be the kitchen. He signaled that he’d move closer. The other three were to remain where they were.
He moved forward in a crouch, holding his weapon to his chest. Stopping, he took a knee, listening. Getting up, he moved forward again, then stopped and listened, and looked through
the NVGs.
He made his way to the window and looked in. At a table sat two men. The thin man was Wolfe. The other man was younger, and he didn’t recognize him. They were chatting, relaxed and at ease. Tim looked hard at the younger man. He wanted to remember that face later.
He moved away and approached each window on the first floor of the structure, looking in through his NVGs. Only one room held a person, who was in bed. He couldn’t tell if it was Kelly or not, but the small form seemed to be female.
Moving away, he rejoined his companions. “Two men in the kitchen. One is Wolfe, the thin man who works with Chum. The other is a younger man with a flannel shirt and camo jacket over,” he whispered. “Someone, maybe a woman, is sleeping in the far east room on the first floor. The other rooms are empty. There may be more on the second floor, but there’s no way to tell.”
The men nodded, and Paul shifted, looking over his shoulder toward the house.
“Should we leave Rob and John here to watch the house while you and I head to the next one?” Paul asked, his long body hunched over. A slight tremor shook his tall frame. “It’s a mile down the road.”
“Sounds good. I just wish we could get eyes on that second floor,” Tim said.
“Iff’n one of ’em come out ta take a piss, you want me to quiet him an’ send him to God?” Rob asked, and Tim could see a gleam in his eyes.
“If you think you can get him quietly, I’d say go for it. If the other comes out, you’ll have to take him out quietly too. You shoot, the other house will be alerted. And if anyone else is here, you’ll have a fight on your hands. We don’t want the women hurt,” Tim advised.
The two men were capable. Both were cool, and Tim recognized the deadly gleam in their eyes. Back at Kenny’s house, they had discussed strategies for approaching and breaching the houses, and he knew they knew what to do. A determined stillness settled about them. Chum had chosen his targets poorly.
