by Bobby Akart
Riley paused as something caught his eye, but then he continued. “I’ve got another question for you. When do you think this is gonna be over? How long will it be before Texas, and America too, will be normal again?”
Cooper was quiet for a moment and then responded, “I’ve thought about this, and I kinda talked to Momma about it too. It may take a year just to get power restored and who knows how long to get back to a normal life.”
“Coop, a lot of folks are gonna die of starvation and such, aren’t they?”
“They already were. This is just gonna make it happen faster. And to top it off, we’ve got these commandos runnin’ around out there somewhere. Don’t we have enough disasters to deal with that are beyond our control without having to worry about them?”
Riley shrugged as the two continued their ride along the fence. “Do you remember when we were kids working with Pops around the ranch? We were down by Wildcat Creek and a momma pig charged us out of the brush.”
Cooper nodded as he responded, “Yeah, we were just young’uns. You grabbed me for protection, and I was about to wet my pants. Pops just stood there, pulled out his six-shooter, and dropped that crazed hog dead in her tracks.”
“He sure did. I remember what he said, too. Do you?”
Cooper recalled his words. “Boys, this is our world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”
The boys allowed the words to sink in, quietly applying them to the new lives they were embarking upon, when suddenly, terrible things began to happen.
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READ ON FOR A FREE EXCERPT from SUICIDE SIX, the exciting final installment in the Lone Star series.
Excerpt from Suicide Six
Chapter 1
January 23, 2023
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
“Boys, this is our world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”
Cooper had barely finished the words when the staccato sound of gunfire followed the bullets that tore through the wood fence rails beside them and stitched the West Texas soil in front of their horses. The startled, involuntary response of their geldings to the unexpected stimulus forced them to simultaneously rear up on their hind legs before darting forward with a burst of energy.
Cooper and Riley, wholly unprepared for an attack, were both thrown to the ground as their horses, whose reflexes were much faster than their human riders’, sought to escape the danger. It was this fast-flight response that saved the boys’ lives on that fateful evening.
As the guys landed on their backs, cradling their rifles as they fell, the horses bolted toward the guard towers, their hooves racing as fast as they could, acting on pure instinct to flee the gunfire.
The unknown attackers, hidden in the dark surroundings of Armstrong Ranch, didn’t hesitate. The fleeing horses, which were both killed instantly, were no match for the rapid fire of their automatic weapons.
As quickly as the firing started, it stopped, and the ranch became momentarily silent. Riley Armstrong, eyes wide open, was about to yell toward his brother, but Cooper quickly covered Riley’s mouth with his gloved hand.
“Shhh,” he whispered. “They think they’ve killed us. Otherwise they’d be rainin’ hellfire on our heads.”
Riley nodded his understanding, and Cooper removed his hand. Riley whispered back, “We have to warn everybody.”
“Trust me, they’ve been warned. We need to get to the guard tower so we can get the high ground. Between your huntin’ rifle and this AR, we can hold them off until Daddy and Preacher can get everyone to safety.”
“Coop, Daddy’s probably not back from Austin yet.”
Cooper rose onto his knees, pointing his weapon toward the grassy hills surrounding the west side of the ranch. “Preach can handle it. Listen, we’ve got to get to cover. Let’s run behind those mounds that Antonio and the boys built for cover. Stay behind me about twenty yards. Don’t get bunched up, got it?”
“Coop, those were machine guns. Do you think it’s the commandos?”
“’Fraid so. C’mon.”
Cooper ran at a low crouch at first as he moved away from the fence toward the series of mounds and trenches built under Preacher’s supervision with the ranch’s backhoe. He said silent prayers to himself as the reality set in—he and his brother could die at any moment.
As Cooper reached cover, he glanced over his head and searched for Riley. Although it was a clear, crisp night, the new moon didn’t illuminate their movements. He suspected the shooters had fired upon the horses based upon the sound of their hooves digging into the soil.
He searched through the sights of his rifle for any form of movement across the fences marking the western boundary of the ranch. Riley quickly joined him, huffing slightly, as he was out of breath, or possibly overcome with anxiety.
“Are you gonna be okay?” he asked Riley, who was now gasping for air.
Riley nodded. “Yeah, just winded. Coop, I can feel them out there, you know? They’re watching us. It’s like the walls are closing in on me.”
“Bro, we’ve never been shot at. It’s natural to be afraid. I am. But I’m not so danged scared that I’m ready to die. We’ve gotta make it to the guard tower.”
“What about the shooters?”
“They’re probably closing on the ranch now, so time’s a-wastin’. Twenty yards separation. Don’t forget.”
Cooper didn’t wait for a response, and he began to race across the open field toward the guard tower at the ranch’s south gate. As he ran, he was thankful for two things. One, they weren’t shooting at him. Second, he’d followed Duncan’s advice to wear his Reebok sneakers when he wasn’t doing ranch work. He suspected his burly brother would be building up quite a set of blisters running in his ropers.
Cooper was out of breath when he reached the base of the guard tower. He hid behind one of the power poles used as a support and fought to regain his normal breathing. Riley still hadn’t arrived, so he peered around the post to look for his brother.
Riley’s lumbering shadow could be seen in the distance. The physical build of the two brothers was vastly different. Cooper was taller and leaner. His body frame was ideally suited for his former profession as a bull rider. Riley was stockier and had the muscular structure of a Brahma bull. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, but his shorter legs and heavy muscle build were not suited for three-hundred-yard sprints across an open field with the possibility of bullets chasing him.
Riley finally arrived and collapsed against the front of the post. Cooper quickly grabbed his shirt and pulled him around the back side to provide some cover from the shooters.
“Hey! Are y’all up there?” Cooper yelled in a hushed whisper to the two Slaughter ranch hands who were supposed to be manning the guard tower at this time of the evening. After he didn’t receive a response, he tried it again. “Hey! It’s me, Cooper. Can you hear me?”
“They ran off, Coop,” said Riley in between deep breaths. “I knew they would when the goin’
got rough.”
“Yeah, me too.” Cooper stopped talking as he heard the sounds of two horses racing in their direction from the barns.
Antonio and one of the ranch hands pulled to a stop before quickly dismounting. Antonio approached Cooper. “What happened?”
“They fired upon us. The horses got spooked and ran. The shooters must’ve thought we were riding away, and they shot in the direction of the sound.”
“Where are the guards in the tower?”
“Gone.”
“Cabróne.” Antonio muttered the Spanish vulgarity, which referred to an adult male goat, loosely translated to mean bastards. He looked around and then asked, “Where are your horses?”
“Dead, I think,” replied Cooper.
Antonio grimaced. “Take one of ours back to the ranch. I’ll round up the families while Pedro takes over tower watch. We’ll meet back at the barns.”
“What are we gonna do with everybody?” asked Riley.
“The bunker, based on what Preacher was just saying. He wants us to fall back to defend the ranch house.”
Cooper helped his brother to his feet. “Okay, hurry.”
It was too late. The shooters began firing upon them again. All the guys hit the ground and began to scramble for protection.
“They’re comin’ at us so fast!” Riley exclaimed as he crawled on his belly to another post. He chambered a round in his hunting rifle and looked through his scope for the source of the gunfire.
“It’s coming from down the road near that abandoned well,” said Cooper. “I saw the muzzle flash the last go-round.”
Antonio turned to his ranch hand and patted him on the shoulder. He pointed upward. “Climb the ladder, and we’ll cover you.”
As the man ascended the stairs, Antonio turned to Cooper. “How many shooters?” asked Antonio as he glanced upward. His man had reached the protection of the guardhouse.
“Two, I—” started Cooper before more bullets ripped into the heavy-duty support posts.
“They’re closer,” shouted Riley. He returned fire in the general direction of where the shots had come from. That turned out to be a mistake.
Suddenly, the night erupted in a hail of gunfire coming from at least two positions surrounding the tower. The guys were pinned down, trying their best to blend in with the posts.
Antonio, Cooper, and Riley began to return fire into the darkness while the new guard opened up on the shooters’ positions with his AK-47. The structure was designed to provide ballistic protection, but unfortunately, the single tower guard didn’t have any backup.
The guys had never been in a gun battle like this one, and they quickly reverted to the Taliban style of shooting at their enemy—stick the rifle around the corner and squeeze the trigger.
“Guys, we don’t have the numbers, and we’re outgunned,” said Cooper. “My extra magazines were on my horse. They could overtake us in a matter of minutes.”
The ranch hand fired off another spurt from his weapon, which drew an immediate response from the well-hidden shooters. The bullets tore into the walls of the guardhouse, causing splinters to fall on the guys’ heads.
“Take a horse and go. Now!” shouted Antonio.
“What about you?” asked Riley.
“I’ll try to hold them off. Get back to the ranch and get our families safe.”
Cooper waved to Riley, instructing him to join him at Antonio’s horse.
“Cover me!” shouted Antonio to the ranch hand as he slung his rifle over his shoulder and began to climb the ladder.
His man began to shoot in the direction of the abandoned oil wells, prompting dozens of rounds of return fire. He screamed in agony before his body could be heard hitting the floor of the tower.
“Antonio, it’s over,” shouted Cooper. “We’ve gotta go.”
“I can cover you,” Antonio insisted as he continued to climb.
More gunshots filled the air as the bullets imbedded into the posts and ladder where Antonio was climbing. Momentarily, as if in suspended animation, his body fell backwards toward the ground.
Riley raced below him and held out his arms, hoping to break their longtime friend’s fall. A second later, Antonio crashed into his arms and knocked them both to the ground.
“He’s been hit!” shouted Riley, holding out his bloody arms for Cooper to see.
Cooper dismounted and raced to their side. Antonio’s left hand was bleeding. A gaping bullet wound had created a hole in the palm of his hand and through the other side.
Antonio had a red bandana tied around his neck, which Cooper quickly used as a way to slow the bleeding.
“Can you ride?”
“Yeah.”
Without another word, the three men scrambled for the horses, who’d remained remarkably calm during the melee. They’d been tied to the fence twenty yards away. Unlike the Armstrongs’ horses, which had avoided the bullets thrown in their direction, these two were unaffected.
Riley helped Antonio onto the back of Cooper’s horse, and the trio sped off toward the faint light of the ranch house, hoping they didn’t take a bullet in the back.
Chapter 2
January 23
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
“Miss Lucy, we don’t have a choice,” started Preacher as he frantically herded women and children toward the barn constructed over their two buried nuclear bunkers. “There’s a war going on over there. At least the boys are keeping the shooters busy while we round up the families.”
“Preach, if we get overrun—” Lucy Armstrong began to argue her point when more gunfire could be heard coming from the north gate.
Preacher turned away and hollered at everyone to hurry. The children and their mothers were hunched over, running toward the barn where the underground bunkers were located. He left Lucy standing alone in the yard. She frantically looked around. Where are my children? Where is my husband?
Major had still not returned from his unexpected trip to Austin. Earlier that day, a helicopter had arrived at the ranch unannounced. It had been dispatched at the request of Texas President Marion Burnett. Major had been whisked away in the chopper with barely an opportunity to say goodbye. She hadn’t heard from him since and only assumed he’d be back soon.
While Lucy needed the comfort and protection he’d always given her, she wasn’t sure it would be safe for him to arrive in the middle of an attack, or whatever this was.
Two horses galloped in her direction from the east. She immediately saw the white mare that Sook rode and assumed it was her daughter racing alongside.
“Momma! Momma! Are you okay?” Palmer shouted as they sped into the opening between the ranch house and the barn. She pulled back on the reins of her horse, bringing him to an abrupt stop.
“I’m fine, but I don’t know where your brothers are,” replied Lucy as she held the reins of Sook’s horse, enabling her to dismount quickly.
“What can we do?” asked Sook.
“Sook, we’ve heard lots of gunfire coming from the area of the guard tower,” began Lucy. “Palmer, your brothers were riding the western fence tonight.”
Palmer quickly spun around and moved toward her horse. “I’ll go get them.”
Lucy reached for her daughter’s arm and stopped her. “No, Palmer, you can’t. That wasn’t sporadic gunfire. It sounded like a war movie.”
“We’ve gotta get them, Momma,” she pleaded.
“No, we need to take cover. You and Sook need to get into the bunker for protection. The guys can take care of themselves, and Preacher’s men will defend the ranch.”
Sook looked at Palmer and shook her head. “I will fight.”
“Me too, Momma. This is our home. I will not hide in the bunker while they steal our stuff and burn it down like they did to the Slaughters’ old place.”
Lucy stood firm. “Honey, the Slaughters lost their ranch, but at least they’re alive. If these are the North Korean commandos Duncan and Sook war
ned us about, then we’re no match for them. You’ve got to get inside. Please.”
Palmer stood a little taller. “What are you gonna do?”
“Well, I’m gonna stay outside and wait for the boys and your father,” replied Lucy.
Palmer glanced at Sook as if to confirm she was speaking for both of them. Then she bowed up. “Momma, so will we.”
“Dang it, young lady. You’re so stubborn.”
“Helpful,” Palmer shot back.
Sook stepped forward and gently put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. In a soft, calming voice, she said with a chuckle, “She is just like her mother.”
Lucy touched her future daughter-in-law’s hand and returned a comforting smile. “Do you always tell the truth?”
Sook smiled and replied, “Only to my family and God. Otherwise, one never knows.”
“Okay, Momma?” asked Palmer before adding, “Sook and I will cover the area around the barns while everyone gets settled. When the boys get back, the four of us will defend the house, along with you and Preach.”
“I’m sure your Daddy will be along soon,” added Lucy.
“Have you tried to raise Duncan on the radio he gave us?” asked Palmer.
“Your father took it with him. I don’t have a way to contact either one of them.”
“Good grief, Momma. We can’t contact Duncan for help?”
“Honey, we’re on our own. We’ve got to defend the ranch ourselves.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of horses coming between the barns toward them.
“¡Arriba, arriba! ¡Ándale, ándale!” shouted Preacher as the last of the ranch families arrived at the barn. He frantically waved for them to enter. Then he shouted to the women, “I hear horses! Be ready!”
Palmer and Sook raced toward the two horse pens, which provided a chute into the barn area. Any riders approaching the house from the west would have to travel between the fences around the pen. Lucy ran to Preacher’s side with her pistol drawn.
