Homeland Defense (Sundown Apocalypse Book 3)

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Homeland Defense (Sundown Apocalypse Book 3) Page 25

by Leo Nix


  “Yes, Glenda,” said Annie pulling at her mother's arm. “Mum! Come on, hurry up! Before it gets dark and the ghosts come out!” Then she yelled at Lenny who was wrestling with Black Dog. “Come on Lenny, we're going on a ghost walk!”

  Lucy and Glenda came back to the kitchen table after their 'ghost walk'. The meal was over and everyone remained comfortably chatting over drinks. Fortunately the palace was well stocked with alcohol. When Lucy arrived back at the table she asked everyone to listen, the conversations ceased.

  “I would like to apologise. I'm sorry, Tricia, for being such a bitch. I'll try harder to be part of this community. If you'll all forgive me I'd like to pitch in and help. Please, give me a job and tell me what to do. I need to keep busy.” She spoke quickly without pausing.

  “Lucy, we've accepted you already. I know you're on guard duty with the girls but Fatima might need a hand with the chickens and the gardens, maybe some food preparation and kitchen work, would you like to help her?” Tricia suggested. “It'll give you a break from looking after the kids.”

  “I'm a bit of a fighter at heart, so as long as I get to fire off a few rounds every now and then I don't mind helping.” She saw Fatima and waved. “Thanks,” she said finally and sat to finish her cold meal.

  When Andy saw that things were settled he resumed his story of how he found the palace wine cellar. It was in a tunnel below the main building, an enormous underground complex that went on and on. It was much larger than the house itself. He noticed padlocked rooms going off the main tunnel that looked like it led to the cattle and shearing sheds. The wine and spirits collection must have been worth millions.

  Fat Boy said he'd like to go down with a torch and investigate. He was the one who surmised the locked rooms may have been used for purposes other than spiritual. He should know, he said, he knew quite a few church leaders. He said he'd heard of the Christian Palace, he knew of just about every church-run property in outback Australia, but he'd never visited this one.

  The commando settled in for the night. The four girl guards were split into shifts shared with Roo, Phil, Glenda and Bongo. Their security for the first night wasn't going to be left to chance, Heidi made sure of that.

  The competition between Lucy and Heidi to wrestle control of the 'Girl Guards', as Phil now called them, was intriguing to the commandos.

  Heidi eventually allowed Lucy to command day / night guard duty and she took control from midnight to midday. Once that was sorted out Andy and Tricia eased themselves back into the mansion without detection and went up onto the first floor patio.

  Those not on guard duty or putting kids to bed were up there under the awnings protected from the rain. They sat back in palatial chairs drinking three hundred dollar bottles of champagne in candle-lit splendour. That might be the reason why Phil and Fatima woke up the next morning still in the patio chairs. The sun was way too bright as it broke through the heavy clouds to waken them.

  Chapter 23 - The Push

  Sergeant Ahmet led the patrol through the rain and gently pulled up before they came to the Coopers Creek crossing. The driver was alert to Assassins markings that indicated 'danger ahead'.

  “This is where Assassin said we'd make contact with their forward scouts, Sarg. It's going to be hard to spot them though,” said Private Julian, sitting in the front, peering through the misty rain.

  “All the better to shoot the shit out of them,” said Ahmet, while he searched for signs of the enemy himself. “We really need to get out and make sure there's no land mines here,” he hinted.

  No one volunteered, so Ahmet pulled on his poncho, went outside and called for Nulla to walk with him. It was now raining so hard Nulla slipped and nearly landed in Ahmet's lap. After a hurried chat Nulla suggested he scout forward with one of his boys. Ahmet was grateful, he was starting to think he might have to do it all himself.

  Simon complained that he was too wet to go into the scrub with Nulla.

  “Boss, that's not fair. Look at us, over three hundred kilometres riding in the rain. We're covered in mud and shit, I'm saturated, my feet are wet, my boots are wet and my rifle's wet. I'm gonna be useless if we get into a fight,” he complained bitterly, but he followed Nulla into the soggy scrub that led into the river crossing itself.

  They'd only gone ten metres when Nulla waved frantically for Simon to get down. They lay in the water now an inch deep covering the sandy river bed. The Cooper Creek was a series of shallow creeks, in flood they all joined up to become one massive flood.

  “They're just there.” Nulla crawled over and whispered in Simon's ear, “they're sitting in the truck, four of them. Shit!” He wasn't happy, he'd just led his young off-sider right into the giant's cave and there was no beanstalk for them to climb down to safety.

  Simon peeped through the leaves and there, above him not a metre away, was the door of the truck. As the rain slackened off he heard music and talking, he he could also smell marijuana and cigarette smoke.

  “Nulla, what now?” he mouthed the words, too afraid to speak.

  In answer, Nulla rolled onto his back and cocked his rifle, full automatic, and indicated for Simon to do the same. He put up his hand in a 'stop' sign and mouthed for Simon to wait, then indicated he was going to crawl to the back of the truck. He indicated for Simon to cover the front cabin in case he was discovered. Simon watched as his leader carefully stood, and peered into the back of the truck. Satisfied no one was there or on the other side, he crawled back.

  Nulla held up three fingers and indicated, 'on the count of three we stand up and hit them.' He used his hand to indicate he would stay at the side door, while Simon was to walk around to the front window to fire. 'One, two, three!'

  They stood together and opened fire. Simon walked his Steyr's bullets in through the front windscreen as he stepped quickly to the front of the truck.

  The firing was over in seconds. Nulla threw the door open and bloodied bodies spilled out onto the side of the road. He watched as the rain washed fresh blood off the terrorist's pale, dead faces.

  There was a roar of engines as the Bushmaster came forward out of the rain and mist. Simon nearly crapped his pants when he heard the armoured vehicle roar into life right behind him without warning.

  Ahmet jumped out along with three of his men, all armed ready for a fight. Behind were the bikers and Cambra's four wheel drive.

  “You bastard, Nulla, we were supposed to get here first,” called one of the crewmen as he went through the bodies to collect weapons, ammunition and information.

  Ahmet sent his other two men to the back of the truck to watch for any enemy approaching from the Patrol One site. The bikers came up next and everyone could see they looked damn wet and miserable. Riley was probably the only one to have managed to keep his poncho on in the rain, but even he was covered in mud from boots to breastbone.

  “Hey, boss,” called Luke sitting astride his mud covered bike looking like a blob of cookie dough. “Boss, is this enough rain for you?”

  Nulla looked at his bikers, what a sorry lot they looked, he thought. “This is beautiful. Where I was born water came out of the ground not the sky. This is like…” he thought for a suitable word, because five hours of riding, the rain and mud needed something special, “like… paradise but wetter.”

  Luke looked at him and twisted his head to the side. “Nulla, that is the lamest description I've every heard. I think I'd better start teaching you 'prose appreciation'. I think a few lessons on the metaphysical poets would be good for your education. I'll ask Charlene and Lucy if they have any Donne, Hopkins or Marvell, maybe even some Shakespeare…”

  Simon wiped more mud off his face as he listened to the conversation. “You're kidding aren't you, Luke? Nulla and Shakespeare?” He started to laugh and that took effort in this misery of fatigue, mud and rain.

  “Right, we've still got the main stockade at Patrol One position just down the road from here,” called Sergeant Ahmet. “Nulla, do you think your boys
are up to it?”

  Cambra and Pellino were sitting comfortably in their four wheel drive as Nulla looked at his four warriors. He decided it was time to make a few changes. They were wet, cold and downright miserable, in no fit state to fight. He nodded to his friend, Ahmet, they were staunch.

  “Cambra, do you have room for a few of my boys? We're about as wet as a drowned platypus. How about squeezing Arty, Luke and Simon in the back with the machine guns and we'll pick up the bikes on the way back?” he asked.

  Cambra stayed inside the cabin and peered across the back divide. “Yeah, it'll be tight but good enough for you poor bastards to keep warm, and maybe dry off a bit.”

  Luke, Simon and Arty didn't argue. They pushed their bikes into the scrub, marked the trees for their retrieval on the way home, and one by one climbed into the back of the dual cab.

  “Arthur,” said Luke like a care-worn professor, “this is an opportunity to take a leak if you need to, or a crap. And we'd better eat something then check our boots and gear. We might not find a chance later on so we'd better do it now.”

  Arty did as he was told and checked his equipment thoroughly. He took his boots off and checked the condition of his feet while eating some kangaroo jerky. Cambra was watching in the mirror and commented.

  “What's this then, eh?” he asked. “You boys getting ready to go to the beach or something?”

  Luke spoke up as he pulled his Steyr down and blew forcefully to remove moisture from its firing mechanism. “It's from the Japanese army field manual, during World War Two, Cambra. If you've got time to sit, then you've got time to piss, and if you've got time to piss you've got time to crap, and if you've got time to…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I've got it, you've got time to change your underwear. Where'd you learn that?” stirred Cambra.

  “Nulla told us, he's been teaching us all about the army from the time of Alexander The Great.” Luke worked the bolt action back and forth. “Did you know warfare is all about resources? Whoever has enough resources generally wins. And if you're rich enough, you can buy resources, like soldiers and weapons.”

  “Yes, he's right, that Nulla of yours is spot on, Luke. I liked his story of the Spartans going into battle with their sticks tied to their arms. Makes sense it does,” added Pellino as he checked his own weapon, making sure moisture hadn't found it's way inside, accidentally, while it sat safely in their dry cabin.

  “Well how about that, the things you learn in the front seat of a Toyota.” Cambra climbed out, hunched over against the rain and relieved himself against the nearest tree while he had the chance.

  “Riley, you and me get a lift in the Bushmaster, come on.” Nulla went over to Ahmet to discuss strategy. The three of them climbed in and sat to roll a cigarette each. “Damn, my fingers are shaking too much. Ahmet, mate, would you mind rolling me one as well?” asked Nulla. Sergeant Ahmet watched quietly, he recognised Nulla's delayed stress reaction but kept his mouth shut. The last thing Nulla needed was to be told he was under stress.

  “No more running off like that, Nulla. I know you had no choice but it worries me. Cavalry boys like us need to look after each other. I can't watch your back when you're out acting like an infantry grunt.” They smoked quietly for a few minutes as the rain pelted down again.

  “Listen to that, no wonder we came up so close to them, there's no way they'd hear us in this rain,” said the cavalry sergeant. He called across to his gunner. “Gunner, ten minutes smoko then we push forward to the main Patrol One site. Pass it on will you.”

  Gunner Wilmott nodded and pulled on his poncho before he got out. Rifle in hand he went out into the rain to tell his forward scouts and then ran back to tell Cambra and the lads parked behind them.

  “Ahmet, we might be better off dropping in on them just on dark. We've got the night vision goggles and I'm not sure they have any. These boys don't seem to be very well trained or resourced,” said Nulla.

  “Hmm,” mumbled Ahmet. “They pushed our best scouts into the desert and blew up our Bushmaster. Every mob we've hit have been trained extremely well. Don't let an ambush in the rain fool you, mate.” He got out his tobacco pouch again and rolled another two cigarettes, he absently handed one to Nulla.

  “It's only going to take us a few minutes to get to the Patrol One stockade. Blondie said they were rebuilding it. She said she heard the lieutenant mention land mines. I bet these blokes here were supposed to lay mines in front of their position. We didn't hit any so I guess they spent all their time trying to get the truck out of the bog. I'm buggered if I'll send anyone forward to check for mines so close to the enemy though.” He wiped the sweat beading on his forehead. “If Cambra can drive way back from us I'll drive ahead. If we hit a mine the old girl should be fine for at least the first one, then we'll know won't we.”

  Donna was acting radio operator for the trip, she whistled and turned to the group behind her. “Holy shit! Ahmet! Sundown's taken command of Third Army and General Hughes is under house arrest. He's sending an armoured troop across the Simpson to support us, and he'll be posting road blocks on the Stuart Highway as well as the Oodnadatta Track, near Mount Dare.”

  Nulla looked at Ahmet having no idea what they were talking about. Ahmet saw the confusion on his face.

  “It's all right, sergeant,” he said, “Sundown's our fighting commander and Hughes, well, he was a trumped up idiot. Now we're going to see some real action!” He called to his radio operator, “Donna, luv, send this signal to Blondie, 'we attack right on sunset'. Can you let Sundown and Wiram know our current situation as well? Stick to your own code too, luv, we don't know if they've captured our code book or not.”

  It was wet, gloomy and miserable, but that didn't stop Lieutenant Donata forcing his platoon to finish their defenses and prepare to hold back a possible assault from Birdsville. He was in two minds whether to get his men into shelter, or to complete their defences because of the rain and the condition of the road.

  He'd spoken to Captain Burgess only a half hour ago and learned that the ambush at Mungerannie had finally caught up, and eliminated, the Bushmaster crew and the bikers. His sister platoon reported they'd left not a single enemy alive, it was a complete success. Lieutenant Donata expected a call from the major later that afternoon when Lance Corporal Jaina arrived with the code book and prisoners. Maybe then he would be put on the promotion ladder.

  While the lieutenant lay back in the repaired stockade he thought of what he would be doing when he got back to Marree. There were the usual soldier's moles offering sex for food and safe lodging. He sometimes slept with the girls but he got bored easily. He had holiday leave coming this weekend and he thought he might go into Quorn or Hawker, and share in some fine dining and the up-market girls there.

  A lot of the farming regions had lost their menfolk, taken to work on the church-run properties. It was much like slavery, he thought. The women not taken in by the church officials and officers went to the NCO's then down the line to the regulars. Those who didn't make the cut ended up with the outposts and out on patrol like this one. No one felt sorry for them, the church fed them and gave them a roof over their heads. As long as they provided a service for God, servicing God's soldiers, they were looked after, in a fashion.

  At the moment Nancy was busy servicing a few of the bored men in the stockade beside him. The church accepted sex in any shape or form as long as members paid their dues and worshipped the one God, according to the rites and traditions of the church. Sex was just part of God's vision for humanity after the apocalypse.

  Life had never been so good since the apocalypse, he thought. Previously he'd been a railway worker but now he was an officer in the church army, doing what he loved doing. Donata enjoyed leading his fellow soldiers. He wasn't cruel like many others, far from it, he took pride in extending God's mercy to those under him, be it his troops, God's children or the enemy.

  Now he was waiting for the truck to return with his forward scouts. He decided not to le
ave them out there in this rain, they should be back here with their mates. But they were bogged and the last he heard they'd managed to push the truck off the road and were waiting for the rain to ease before driving it back. Apparently they were having smoko, but they should be back soon.

  The lieutenant ignored the gasp of a man in the grips of ecstasy next to him. Nancy was certainly earning her keep today, he thought, as he pulled a book from his backpack, 'Robin Hood'. He'd found it in one of the houses they'd raided last month. He was intrigued by it's theme of robbing from the rich to give to the poor. He fell asleep as the rain drummed monotonously on the tin roof above.

  There were over twenty elite Stosstruppen in the Patrol One position. Only ten could squeeze into the stockade so the rest set up their tents in the bush away from the river. They were still within shouting distance of the solid structure where Lt Donata and the others were resting up.

  When the lieutenant woke he began to worry about his squad up the road. They hadn't answered his calls on the CB and it was getting dark. He called two of his men.

  “Fella's, check out the scouts position up front and find out what's going on.” They nodded, pulled their hats down firm against the rain and huddled into their ponchos, rifles well covered. Mumbling under their breath they set out.

  “No use rushing it, the sooner we get back the sooner the bastard will give us another shit job. 'Build the bloody stockade, dig the bloody latrine, bloody do this, bloody do that'.” Corporal Normy moaned.

  It was slow going in the mud and they slipped and slid all the way to the forward position. He didn't even realise he was a prisoner until he felt an arm around his throat and a knife pushed into his ribs.

  “Quietly now, lads, don't mess about. You're now a prisoner and we've got a nice spot for you out of the rain,” said Julian. Luke held the other prisoner, his knife firm against his ribs just as he was taught.

 

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