Tim might not have realized it, but his blunt words and don’t-give-a-shit attitude convinced most of the doubters to sit still and listen to what the white-haired doctor had to say. Two hours later, the two trucks were back on the road. This time, carrying a cargo of alternately hopeful and terrified refugees to their new home.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Leaning back against a tree north of the township of Murray, Nathan looked at the road a quarter of a mile to the east and fourteen hundred feet below them. On the east, or right side of the road, was a sheer rock face and on the left, was a two-hundred-foot drop. Glancing at his watch and letting out a sigh, “You would think the tweakers would move faster,” he mumbled.
Pulling back the sleeve of his ghillie suit, John glanced at his watch while sitting next to Nathan. “We’ve only been here for six hours,” John pointed out. They had started out yesterday morning, dressed in ghillie suits to start the sniping campaign on the tweakers. They’d found every building in Murray had been burnt to the ground. Being overly cautious, Nathan had led them to the ridge they were currently on.
“I really expected a group to have passed by now,” Nathan huffed, turning to Tom leaning back against a tree with his eyes closed. “You slept on the ride here,” Nathan joked, feeling Apollo on his right side stirring in his sleep.
“Just resting my eyes,” Tom grinned, keeping his eyes closed.
“Hungry?” Jasmine asked, coming up behind them.
Lifting his head up, Nathan looked north and saw Natalie on the spotting scope watching the road, since Prichard was only five miles away to the north. “Not really,” Nathan said, laying his head back on the tree.
Looking at the scope on the Barrett he was using, John grinned. “Why didn’t you get scopes like Jeremey did?”
“John, each of those scopes cost more than four grand. The Barrett 107 I bought cost me nine grand, and I got a deal on that. Why do you think I didn’t buy a super scope?” Nathan answered. He was just happy to take two 107s from Jeremey’s stash.
“But they take all the calculations out,” John answered, still in awe at the scopes. The scopes and the Barretts were only some of the new toys they’d gotten from Jeremey’s. John really wanted to keep more of the stash, but Nathan said ‘no’ and distributed most of it among the posse. Nathan had put a ballistic scope on the BA110 and his own Barrett. He’d kept one 107 with a scope, and then gave one to Tim and the other to Aiden, since they liked shooting long distances.
Hearing how much the 107 had cost, Jasmine turned to look at the weapon. “And Jeremey had six of those?” she gasped.
“Here.” Nathan chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe what he had at his house in Utah.”
“Like what?” John asked, sitting up.
“More guns and weapons than you can imagine, a P51 Mustang, and three fully-functioning tanks,” Nathan answered, and John’s eyes got wider. “They weren’t modern tanks, but tanks nonetheless.”
Kneeling next to Nathan, “Can I please have just a few of the glowing bullets?” Jasmine pleaded.
Laughing as he dropped his right hand onto Apollo’s back, “Jasmine, like I told you. Tracers work both ways. You know where your bullets are hitting, but the other side knows where they came from,” Nathan told her.
Giving a groan, “All right,” Jasmine said, getting up and moving back to Natalie. She looked at the M240B and had to admit, she loved the two hundred round belt of ammunition strung out. Lifting her gaze to the road across the ravine, “Glad I have lots of bullets,” she mumbled.
Turning and looking at the suppressors on the Barretts, it amazed Jasmine they didn’t bend the barrel. With the suppressor on her M240, the gun was almost as tall as she was, but Jasmine could carry the thirty-pound gun. She could also carry the Barrett, that was just as heavy with all the extra stuff on it, but she had already told Nathan, she wasn’t shooting it. The only thing she wanted on her machine gun, besides glowing bullets, was a real scope and not the ACOG mounted on it.
“Trucks from the south,” John called out, dropping his binoculars and diving behind his Barrett.
Pulling the stock to his shoulder, Nathan glanced over at the five loaded magazines beside him before glancing over to see Tom on the BA110, and Jasmine pulling the stock of the 240 to her shoulder. “On my mark, John,” Nathan said.
Aiming at a sign on the road, Nathan hit the laser to range the target and saw his crosshairs didn’t move, letting him know it was still zeroed from this morning when they’d set up. A few seconds later, he could hear the sound of motors. Taking his eye off the scope, Nathan turned to look south, and saw the line of vehicles. “Four pickups and four cargo trucks traveling, about thirty,” he estimated.
Putting his eye back on the scope, Nathan held the crosshairs over the road. It seemed to take forever, but he soon spotted a gray pickup in his scope when it rounded the curve. Flipping the safety off and taking a deep breath, Nathan let half out while keeping the crosshairs in front of the pickup, level with the engine. When the truck was halfway along the straightaway across from him, he squeezed the trigger. The gun bucked, and Nathan guided the crosshairs back to the truck.
Watching the truck and hearing Nathan shoot, Jasmine thought he’d missed. Nearly a second after he’d pulled the trigger, Jasmine gave a startle when a hole punched through the fender just above the wheel. The pickup lurched right and hit the guardrail in front of the cliff face. Ten people riding in the back were thrown about, and six were tossed out of the back. Flying through the air, they hit the asphalt hard.
While steam billowed from under the hood and the driver fought to keep the truck on the road, Nathan squeezed the trigger again as all the vehicles slowed. Hitting the guardrail again and throwing another person in the back out, the truck skidded sideways to a stop, nearly blocking the road. When another hole punched through the driver’s door, the windows turned red, like a paint balloon had popped inside the cab.
Aiming at the cargo truck at the back of the line, John squeezed the trigger when the man driving stuck his head out the window to look ahead. When the bullet hit the front of the truck, the man jerked his head back in, and John could see all kinds of fluids pouring out from under the truck and onto the road. Moving the crosshairs to the door, he squeezed the trigger watching the crosshairs buck, then shifted his aim to the cargo truck next up the line.
Seeing Nathan moving down the line to the next truck, Tom held aim on the cab of the first truck as the passenger tried to climb out the window. Aiming ahead of the target, Tom squeezed the trigger and racked the bolt, chambering a new round and never taking his eye off the scope.
He saw the .338 Lapua hit the man in the left shoulder, nearly taking the arm off. Tom moved his aim when a single rider left in the back of the truck stood up, holding his left wrist. Squeezing the trigger, Tom racked the bolt and saw his bullet hit the man in the gut. “Not where I was aiming,” he mumbled, moving to the next truck.
Seeing the man trying to climb out of the window get hit, Jasmine flipped the safety off and aimed twenty feet high like Nathan had told her to. Giving the trigger a soft squeeze, Jasmine felt the gun buck against her and let the trigger go. When she saw her rounds hitting well short of the road, she lifted her aim higher and squeezed again.
This time, she hit the left shoulder of the road and aimed even higher before giving another squeeze. Watching the back window of the lead truck spiderweb out, Jasmine smiled, moving her aim to those on the road who were trying to crawl away. Squeezing the trigger again, she held it down for a second, then let it go. She saw the man jerk about on the road, with puffs of dust when other rounds hit the asphalt around him.
Realizing just how high she was aiming, Jasmine was amazed she was hitting anything.
Changing magazines, Nathan moved to the fourth pickup truck trying to get out of the kill zone, but couldn’t turn around with the trucks stopped to his front. With the truck facing him, Nathan squeezed the trigger twice, then moved to the nex
t one and saw it was a cargo truck. About to squeeze the trigger, Nathan saw a hole punch through the fender when the truck tried to back up.
Moving his aim to the cab of the pickup truck, Nathan squeezed the trigger as the driver’s door opened. When the driver turned to get out, the fifty-caliber bullet punched a hole in his chest. Sending three more shots into the cab and engine, Nathan saw a man looking over the front end of the truck and sighted in before squeezing the trigger. Missing his target by inches, Nathan cursed as he changed magazines and heard Jasmine firing long bursts, and could swear she was giggling.
The roar of unsuppressed gunfire sounded in the ravine when those in the backs of the pickups just aimed west across the gorge, holding their triggers down. Getting back on the scope, Nathan saw bullets punching into the truck when Jasmine let out a long burst. Watching men jerk as they were hit, Nathan moved the crosshairs onto a man crawling under the truck.
Squeezing the trigger, Nathan waited and saw the round land short. He lifted his aim just a little and squeezed the trigger again. He didn’t know where he’d hit the man, but he knew he had after watching the body jerk and the man roll onto his back under the truck.
Glancing down at the belt of ammo, Jasmine saw she only had a few rounds left. Grabbing another belt and clipping the new belt to the last few rounds, she glanced around making sure nobody saw that. Nathan had drilled them constantly on loading, so she wasn’t sure if that was allowed and had forgotten to ask.
Holding her aim above the next truck, Jasmine held the trigger for a full two seconds, watching survivors scramble behind the vehicles. When she saw a flash of sparks from under the third truck, Jasmine let the trigger go, wondering what she’d hit.
“I’ll find out later,” she said, and just held the trigger down for three seconds, raking her fire over the first three trucks.
Putting in his last magazine, Nathan looked across the ravine and saw thick smoke coming from the third pickup. “I like that,” he grinned, racking the charging handle back. Moving his crosshairs, Nathan couldn’t find any bodies that were moving.
“Reloading,” he said, grabbing his empty magazines. Pulling over an ammo can, he grabbed the huge bullets, shoving them into the magazines.
Glancing down the line when the M240 stopped, Nathan saw Jasmine clip a new belt to the last few rounds of the old one. Then he looked at the pile of brass beside her. “Jasmine, swap your barrel!” Nathan called out.
Lifting her head up off the stock and flipping the safety on, Jasmine flipped the lock and grabbed the handle, using her mittens to pull the barrel out. She then laid it to the side. Picking up a new barrel that already had a suppressor on, she slid it home and locked it down. Pulling the stock tight and dropping the mitten, Jasmine flipped the safety off and picked right back up.
Waiting for someone to pop out, Nathan saw a flash of flame under the third truck. Trickles of flames shot from the cracks around the hood. “Let’s see how long you hide now,” Nathan said, and another flash in the next truck started a fire. He watched the flames roll along the road, going up and down the column. Watching the flames flash under the vehicles, Nathan realized it was lighting the fluids that were leaking out onto the road.
Seeing the fire, everyone lifted off their gun and reloaded. “I have motorcycles coming!” Natalie called out. “Four miles away!”
“Aw, man, this was just getting good,” John moaned, shoving rounds in his empty magazines.
Seeing a group of people emerge from the far side of the last cargo truck and running down the road, Jasmine pulled the stock to her shoulder and swung the barrel until she saw them. “Outrun this,” she mumbled and squeezed. Then, she did just what Nathan had told her not to do, she didn’t let up.
In morbid fascination, Nathan and the others watched the cluster melt, dropping to the asphalt. In ten seconds, the suppressed 240 firing stopped and Tom squeezed the trigger, hitting one who’d somehow managed to avoid the steel rain Jasmine had dropped on their asses.
“She just shot thirty-four!” John cried out in awe.
“Tom, stay on them and set up. Jasmine, change barrels again!” Nathan called out.
“This sucks,” Jasmine huffed, pulling the barrel out and laying it down. Grabbing the other barrel, she locked it in and flipped up the feed tray. “Reload and change barrels, I’m going to work on this,” she mumbled.
Laying the new belt in, Jasmine heard the rattle of bikes. “You guys need to slow down,” she huffed, slowly closing the feed tray where Nathan had just slammed it down. Jasmine wanted to make sure the bullets stayed where she had put them. Only when the tray was nearly closed, did Jasmine hit it with her fist.
“Wait till they get past the bend and can see the trucks! Start at the back, so they can’t head back to Prichard and take out transportation first! Then, people!” Nathan called out. “Jasmine, you work from the back to the front!”
“Fifteen motorcycles,” Natalie announced. “Nine are carrying two people.”
Keeping his crosshairs in the kill zone, Nathan lifted his head up and saw the motorcycles a mile away, moving pretty fast on the narrow road carved into the cliff face. He didn’t need his eyes to tell him most were cruisers. His ears told him just fine. For a second, Nathan wondered if Bill and his team on the other side of Prichard heard the damn blasting pipes.
Hearing Tom shoot and turning back to the trucks, Nathan saw all were burning, with three a roaring inferno. “Thank you for the rain,” he mumbled, because forest fires out west were everyone’s worst fear. Hearing Tom shoot again, Nathan risked a quick glance back and saw some of the cluster of bodies were trying to crawl away, or rolling around on the asphalt.
Turning around and getting on his scope, “I would play dead and pray, but that’s just me,” he chuckled.
“They aren’t slowing,” John said beside him. “Aren’t they going kind of fast?”
“John, they can’t see around that curve, and that fire isn’t putting that much smoke off yet,” Nathan told him. “I think they’re doing close to sixty.”
“Oh,” John said, taking a deep breath.
When the first bikes came around the curve and saw the first truck on fire only two hundred yards away, Nathan saw them lock the brakes. “I watched you take that bike,” Nathan said, looking at the one in the lead.
The bikes behind them locked brakes and turned, so they wouldn’t hit those in front. Building in intensity, the calamity reached its climax when the middle of the pack came around the curve, finding no room to do anything except brake. All it took was one of the newcomers to space out at the right time and slam into one of the slowing bikes, sending bodies through the air. Two bikes fell over, skidding down the road. One slid into the lead, taking his bike out, and the other hit the guardrail and flipped over into the deep gorge below. Jasmine lifted her head off the stock, hearing the rider scream as he fell two hundred feet.
“Oh, shut up. You got off easy,” she mumbled, resting her cheek back on the stock.
Somehow, the last two bikes braked in time and stayed upright, and Nathan centered his crosshairs on one, letting out a slow breath. It was only when he’d squeezed the trigger, Nathan realized both were dirt bikes and not cruisers.
Holding his aim in case he needed a follow-up shot, Nathan saw a flash on the engine and the rider looked down when John squeezed the trigger. Not waiting, Jasmine squeezed the trigger, holding it for a second and then let it go before settling back into her ten round bursts.
Hearing Jasmine crank up, Nathan moved to the front and saw a bike moving down the road toward the burning trucks. Giving the bike a lead, Nathan squeezed the trigger three times slowly. The first shot missed behind the bike, but the second hit the engine. Nathan saw the last shot hit ahead of the bike, but saw the bike wobbling side to side as the driver lost power.
Grabbing a new belt, Jasmine reloaded her way, clipping it to the old one and moved her aim, raking the group in short bursts. When she saw all the bikes down, Jasm
ine concentrated on people.
When she saw a man jump up aiming a rifle with a large scope up at them, she held the trigger down. The rifle flashed, but then Jasmine saw his body jerk when bullets impacted from his knees to chest and on either side. Shifting her aim, Jasmine saw a man run and jump over the guardrail and into the gorge. “What the fuck?” she mumbled, lifting her head up and watching the man sail through the air, flapping his arms gracefully like he was trying to fly. When his body hit the rocks two hundred feet down, it seemed to explode.
About to get back on the scope, Jasmine saw a woman jump over the guardrail and heard the faint scream. Unlike the man before, the woman flailed about wildly, screaming as she fell. Not watching the impact, Jasmine shifted her aim before squeezing the trigger again.
Seeing all the bikes were hit and none of the bodies moving, Nathan lifted his eye off the scope. “Natalie, you see anything else coming?” he called out over the muffled tempo of the 240.
“No, nothing,” Natalie answered, never taking her eye off the spotting scope.
“Tom, are all of the first group down?”
“All that I can see,” he answered.
“Move to the second. Jasmine, change barrels and let’s pack up!” Nathan called out.
Lifting her head up, Jasmine looked down and saw she still had half a belt of ammo. “I still have bullets!” Jasmine cried out.
“Well, go ahead and shoot them. Then change barrels and reload,” Nathan replied casually and chuckled. Reloading the empty magazines, Nathan shoved them into a tote bag and saw John coming over, picking up his brass while Jasmine finished her belt off.
“Hot stepmom likes the 240,” John chuckled.
“Well, we know what to get her for Christmas,” Nathan laughed, moving over and picking up Tom’s brass.
War Zone: Homefront Page 21
