Righteous Bloodshed: Righteous Survival EMP Saga, Book 2

by Timothy Van Sickel

  Hairy's scouts confirm that Frank's crew got ambushed. Three stragglers are brought in and patched up as best they can. Both gravel roads heading out of the compound have been blown, and the sites are guarded. That only leaves the old logging road for them to get out for their assault. Plans are laid to leave after midnight, to assault the Mays' farmstead.

  * * *

  I am dead on my feet as I climb back in the van. Ken, Larson and our two guard recruits are with me as we head back towards the farmstead.

  "Wow Pap! Can you believe what we got done today! All those people at the Memorial Site that we rescued. And I know I ain't supposed to know, but the Wagerlys got ambushed. That should make things easier on all of us, if they got ambushed like I hear."

  "Your ears are too big. You were supposed to be at one of the Central City barricades, where it was fairly safe, Larson. How do you know about the ambush?"

  "I went out with the reinforcement trucks when checkpoint two got attacked. Just doing my job Pap, like you say. We sent them running! But it was a little dicey when we rolled up there. I did like you told me, took my time and aimed true. We sent them runnin' Pap, you'd a been proud!"

  Am I proud? My grandson is boasting of this firefight? He did what was asked of him, he did his job. But am I proud? Yes and no. Mostly, I am sorry he had to do it. He did not have to do the cleanup of the dead bodies, or he would not be as boastful of his accomplishment. But this is a new world, Larson needs to know that bad people are real and need to be defeated. They are not a bogeyman in a video game, they are real, and some of them want us dead. They have put it in writing!

  We arrive back at the farmstead several hours after dark. Warm hugs and warm food are shared as the events of the day are retold. There is subdued celebration, but one member of our group sits brooding, concerned. Our Marine in charge of security, Daneel, is jumpy. I approach him on the porch during a bit of quiet.

  "You seem concerned Daneel. What's on your mind? You got pretty jumpy about our guard posts tonight. You worried about something?"

  "I have been here barely a few days. Everyone here has treated me like a brother, even though my religion is different from yours. No one has even asked me about my religion. So I feel a bond to you all. You have treated me more than fairly, you have even put me in charge of your security. Five days ago, I may not have cared, but today, I care.

  "The Wagerlys got hit hard today. If I was them, just sayin, maybe I hit back tonight. I'm worried they will hit back tonight. From what I have figured out, from what you have said, they still got at least twenty to thirty guys. We got about a dozen, counting women and older children. If they come tonight, it could be bad. And I would come tonight if I was them."

  I feel a coldness come over my body. Daneel is right, especially knowing the unpredictability of Frank, a man unhinged. We have ten people to defend the farmstead, as Daneel said. There is no time to get to town and ask for help. If Frank comes after us, it will be a fight to the death. Our only hope is to be prepared. Many of us are already tired from a long day, but the only option is to man all posts as strong as we can.

  A meeting of adults is called in the farmhouse living room, teen children included.

  * * *

  "Hairy, Frank is an ass. He's going to get us all killed," one of his crew says.

  "I know," Hairy responds

  "He wants to head out after this Mays guy and his kin tonight. He don't know what he is doing. This Mays guy, he shot up two crews already."

  "I know."

  "So you want what's left of us to just roll into another meat grinder? We lost over two dozen guys in that ambush today, and now we are supposed to follow him to kill off this Mays guy and his kin? This is Appalachia, but this ain't Hatfield's and McCoy's. I'd just as soon get out of here and make our own way."

  "There are four of us left, you let them know they will do exactly as I say. Our first mission is to scout this farm. We head out in one hour. I got this, we got this. Remember, exactly as I say."

  "Okay, Hairy."

  Close to midnight, four powerful and well equipped bikes head down the old logging road, out onto the paved roads, making the twists and turns that will take them to the country lane leading to Mark Mays' farmstead.

  * * *

  "You think this will work?" I ask.

  "The Afghanis used shit like this against us all the time. Yeah, it will work. The question is, will it slow then down enough?"

  Daneel, has us setting up a few surprises for whoever may come visiting. We hear the low rumble of bikes in the distance. We scramble back to the porch, two hundred yards away.

  Are we ready for this, if it comes? We have to stand against these hooligans. We do not have a choice. All our men and woman are in place to rain down fire on the country lane leading to our refuge. Everyone knows the stakes. Even John, injured as he is, has been propped up by the window in the attic, with his 50 cal Barrett on a tripod.

  Grace tells us that four bikes have stopped on the county road. He lets us know that one guy has pulled out a white flag, and is slowly rolling our way. He loses sight of the biker as he heads down the driveway to our farmstead. We wait for the lone man with the white flag to crest the hill to our haven.

  Through our com set, I tell everyone to stay alert, stay in position, and let the guy with the white flag to approach the main roadblock to the farmstead.

  * * *

  Hairy stops at the barricade, and looks around. In the light of his bike's lamp he sees a farmhouse ahead of him. He sees nothing else. 'Hell, maybe Frank's crew can roll up on this ole farmstead,' he thinks, as he looks around at a scene of tranquility.

  As he surveys what is lit in his headlamp more closely, he sees the sand bags built up on the porch, he sees the bullet holes in the house from the previous shoot out, he notices a slight movement on the porch, and realizes it is a gun barrel aimed at him. Then he feels cold steel pressed to his temple. Caught up in checking out what was in front of him, he neglected to see the man step out from the cornfield and place a 9mm to his head. Hairy raises his hands even higher, stunned that he was caught so far off guard.

  "I have news for Mark Mays and his kin." Hairy states a rehearsed line.

  "Drop your weapons and on your knees. Kiss the dirt." A different man comes out and searches him quickly, taking his rifle, side arm, and two hidden knives. They miss his small 38 caliber in his crotch. No one wants to search your crotch, so he knows the searcher person is not military, military would have searched his crotch.

  "Who is this Mays guy you got business with?"

  Hairy thinks. 'These guys are denying this is even the Mays' place,' these guys are good, he has made a good decision. Now he has to pull it off.

  "I was told I could contact Mark Mays if I came hear."

  "There is no Mark Mays here. You have a cross tattoo on your forearm! Explain!" Daneel states. In Farsi he says, "This infidel should die now. We do not want others knowing we are here."

  Stunned at hearing Arabic, Hairy's mind races. He has heard of terrorist cells having compounds in remote areas. Did he stumble into one on those? Rage goes through his head, he will not denounce Christ to some bastard jihadist. "I am a Christian you son-of-a-bitch!" He states loudly. He ducks while slapping the barrel away from his head. He rolls his hefty body into the legs of the Islamic terrorist who is threatening to take his life. The religious terrorist goes down with the sudden leg roll, and Hairy comes up on top, his hands grappling the throat of the extremist bastard threatening him. But the guard's companion covers quickly, his riffle barrel placed squarely in Hairy's back. He says in English, "You said the magic words my large friend. Stand up and state your business."

  * * *

  Frank Wagerly, and what is left of his crew, roll out of his compound, picking their way down the old logging road. In twenty minutes he will take down the bastard that has been stepping on his plans of greatness. He has emboldened his last few dozen followers with heroin, booze, and rhetoric o
f the kingdom they will lead. He has worked himself into a rage. Mark Mays and his tribe must die!

  No word has come back from Hairy. That is good. Hairy said they would scout the place and report back if things looked bad. So his trusted friend is now setting up for the final assault. In his rage, he pushes the convoy of four trucks down the road faster and faster. He cannot wait to deliver the death shot to Mark Mays. He relishes it, savors it. The man that he sees as standing against him and his kingdom will die at his hand. The torture and rape of his women! Frank will make his enemy watch him rape and torture his women! His perverse excitement grows, as they head deeper into the forest, and closer to his target.

  His convoy slows as he relishes in his thoughts of destruction. This brings him back to the here and now. They must be close. He looks around in the darkness and can barely make out the large trees surrounding him, broken only by the cornfield to his left. 'Yes! An isolated area like this! This is where it all should end!' Frank thinks. He has his group stop on the road to put a final plan together. He can barely contain himself. He will kill every man, woman, and child that lives down that gravel lane. Mark Mays and his seed will be eliminated!

  * * *

  Frank feels a tug at his arm. His youngest son of fifteen asks him where Hairy is. Frank hisses. "He ain't here, that means he is set up to take these bastards down. We need to revenge your brothers, son. Tonight we revenge your brothers!"

  Frank calls his remaining leaders together. "Hairy said he would be set up to help us out, so we got inside help going on guys. We are going to take this bible thumper and his kin down. We are going to roll down this road and take these yokels out!"

  He lays out a plan to his men. One bike is to skirt the cornfield and throw a satchel charge at any roadblock. A second is to follow, and throw his satchel at whatever else may need blown up. Two trucks are to run down the lane to the farmstead, and two are to veer off to each side, crash through the cornfields, until they reach the farmstead from the sides. No letting up, if a vehicle gets stuck, go in on foot. "This is it you assholes! When we knock this bastard out, we strike fear in the community! People will flock to us, knowing we are unstoppable. This Bastard killed my boys! Booze and drugs back at the compound guys!" Frank gives his final admonition to his killing crew.

  Just then they hear gunfire coming from down the lane. "Roll, Roll! Go, you frigging drug heads! Hairy got the party started." Frank lets out a tirade of cussing as he urges his men to attack. He holds his truck back as the rest of his drugged up attack squad heads in for the final assault.

  Chapter 16, the Battle

  The Farmstead

  September 18th

  Hairy is brought to the stairs of the front porch of the compound. His mind races as decisions he has made fly through his mind. His life of bad decisions races before his eyes. He hopes he has finally made a good decision. "Mark, this man wants to talk with you. I think he is honest. I think you can trust him."

  An older man with dirty blond hair and a short cropped gray beard steps off the porch. He is of normal stature with bright eyes and a smile that cannot be hidden, even in these hard times. He is well armed, and so are the few people Hairy can see. The man is confident as he steps forward and grasps Hairy's hand firmly.

  "My men say I can welcome you warmly. I trust my men. But can we welcome your three friends on the road warmly too?" Mark asks Hairy pointedly, but without malice.

  Hairy freezes for just a second, how do they know he has three men out on the road? He looks around, he does not see much, but what he does see is impressive. The porch is sandbagged, he sees wires running back to the house, looking up briefly, he sees the cam on top of the roof. He does not see many people, but he has an awareness that lets him know he is more than surrounded. He and his men are being watched, have been watched.

  "My men will do exactly as I say." Hairy states. "They are the best of what I have left."

  The man stares directly at Hairy. A few seconds feel like hours, he feels as if his soul is being searched. Hairy does not look away. "Good enough for now my new friend. Why are you here?"

  Relieved, Hairy responds honestly. "I'm tired of the bullshit. I'm tired of my friends getting killed for an ass who has no clue. I am tired of fighting a fight I know I cannot win. I am tired of being on the wrong side." Hairy barely mumbles the last part, ashamed to admit how wrong he has been.

  "So, we are the right side? How do you figure that?"

  "I don't know, man. But you are trying to help people, not kill people. Dude, what Frank is doing, it just ain't right! I ain't no saint, but killin for fun, that ain't me! I done some bad stuff, but I ain't never killed for fun. I killed those guys the other day at our compound, but that was under orders. We were defending our property. That was when I started thinking about it. Frank's vision is not my vision, not what I want, not the way I was brought up."

  "Sounds like the Lord was tuggin’ at your heart," Mark says, watching Hairy closely, to see his reaction. Hairy stammers a bit, and looks to the star filled sky, his eyes glistening a bit.

  * * *

  I watch the stranger before me. He is a big man, one that is not easily hugged, one that probably doesn't get hugged often. He is not in tears, he is not that kind of man. I reach my arms wide and hug the man. He hugs me back, almost squeezing the life out of me, but both of our spirits soar. I feel it, and so does he, we both know it. We both step back and look each other up and down. I see a glistening in Hairy's eye. I know a tear is forming in my eye too. A man has made a decision, a new bond has been formed. A seed has been planted. A life has been changed through love and acceptance. I say a silent prayer that the seed has found fertile ground.

  “Call me Hairy,” the large man says. A sense of urgency comes across him. "Mark, you got about two dozen hyped up, well-armed drug addicts that are going to barrel down that driveway within the next sixty minutes, maybe sooner."

  Our compound is about to be attacked. Daneel was right.

  "Hairy, bring your men in. They will be met at the rise. Do as my men say." Hairy nods, and heads out the long drive to bring his last few men in.

  "Nice touch with that Islamic terrorist threat Daneel" I state.

  "Been around too much I guess, Mark. You did well with him. You are a natural leader. God has blessed you."

  "Or cursed me. We got two dozen coming in! Drugged crazed! Your surprises will slow them down, and Hairy's crew, if true, will help, but we are going to end up fighting this out right here, on this front porch, in this front yard. You got anything else we can do?"

  "Run some sandbags out for a fighting position for Hairy's crew. That’s all I can think of."

  "Do it now! Grab twenty sandbags off the front porch and run them out to the rise! Ben you and your boy, Daneel and Buck, go now. Two trips each at speed, and they will have a good position! Get it done!"

  Fifteen minutes later I meet Hairy out at the rise on the front drive, and we walk back to his position, fifteen yards into the cornfield. Their bikes are ditched another twenty yards further into the cornfield.

  "You'll see 'em first." I state. "If they have as many as you think, they will crash the fields, come up alongside the farmstead. I need you to stop the party crashers coming in along this side of the road." I glance at Hairy's men. They have the sand bags piled discreetly and are diligently preparing for battle. They look to be doing their job. Yesterday it was killing civilians, today it is protecting our farm. I hope there is more passion in today's work.

  Back on the porch I meet Ken, who had listened to everything that took place between me and Hairy. "Do you think he is really on our side?" he asks.

  "Not sure. That’s why they are way out there. Have Janie and Larson aim in on them, to either take them out or support them. Ken, that is a hard thing to do, a hard thing to figure out. So you stay there with them, help them. But keep an eye on the main entrance. I got our new security guys and Linc to help us down here. We know they are coming. God willing, we wil
l all be here tomorrow!"

  "Pap, everyone on the com, four trucks and some bikes just pulled up to the drive. They don't look to be friendly." Grace says over the com set. Everyone's world goes quiet. The enemy is at the gate. We are prepared, but every plan goes sideways when the first shot is fired.

  * * *

  Hungry and lean, a coyote is slinking alongside the brush line. Two of his pack are trailing ten yards behind him. The free-range ducks will make a good meal for these hungry predators. The events of the days before have no meaning to their life cycle. Food is the only thing on their mind. The ducks along the edge of the pond are the only thing they are thinking of as they hem in their prey.

  Sitting in the barn hayloft, overlooking the moonlit fields below, Rusty and Blake are keeping a vigilante watch. Rusty sees the coyote ready to go after his beloved ducks, and lets off three quick shots at the predator. The first shot puts the coyote down, the next two shots let loose a fire storm that will change all of their lives.

  * * *

  Hearing the shots, Frank is electrified! Hairy is inside the compound and taking out the enemy! "Roll! Roll!" He shouts. And his make shift assault group heads in, the final victory is at hand! A sapper bike screams down the road with its deadly satchel charge. Moments later another bike screams off with another satchel charge. Frank smiles at the destruction that is about to happen,

  The sounds of battle begin. A huge blast lets him know the main roadblock has been blown. More gunfire, and he knows the assault is in full force, he sends his trucks to the left and right, through the cornfields, to bring down a pincer grip on the farmstead. Oh, these simpleton farmers, so easily taken. Frank will rule once this backwoods farmer is taken down.

  His main assault groups have been sent in, Hairy is on the inside, the blasts he has heard lets him know that now is the time to swoop in and claim victory!

  He rushes in with the last of his four trucks, ready to mow down those that are still alive. He has vowed to kill all of Mark Mays clan. As he swoops in, he fantasies about the Mays women. All of them strong and beautiful. Maybe, before he kills them? Yes, he will! There is no law but his law, he will do what he wants!