Righteous Bloodshed: Righteous Survival EMP Saga, Book 2
Page 22
This one is at the top of the hill, after coming out of the Stoneycreek valley. This roadblock is different. There are armed men and large trucks blocking the sides of the road. But the middle of the road is open. It looks more like a reception area than a roadblock.
A smoldering cooking fire is heavily loaded with beef being slow roasted. Several popup tents are neatly arranged offering water, first aid and shade. There is a line of people waiting to be served a meal. Armed men over watch everything, but all is orderly as the refugees coming to this aid station are cared for. Two hundred yards in the distance is Hoffman Evangelical Church. A well-beaten path is seen between the church and the aid station.
Zach has his convoy pull over. He has a genuine smile on his face as he watches the members of his church take care of the needy. He orders his crew to set up security positions before he leaps the guardrail and heads over to greet some of his best friends.
The arrival of their convoy has caused a stir, but at the sight of Zach heading their way, shouts of joy are heard. Many of the servers and guard crew recognize him and receive him warmly as does one of their pastors, Heath Yoder.
"What's going on, my friend?" Exclaims the pastor as they embrace. "Praise the Lord! It is so good to see you. But, seriously, what's going on?" He asks again as he steps back looking Zach in the eye. "We have been taking in people for three days, they're fleeing the chaos of the city. Whatever has gone bad, has gone really bad. Tell me what you know, so we can be ready for it."
Zach tells Heath what he knows. The country has been attacked. The federal government is pretty much nonexistent, non-responsive. The airport is defended. Richland is an armed camp. Fires are burning everywhere. And most importantly, they should expect more refugees.
"Is the government bringing in any food? The local farmers are helping us out now, but from what you are sayin' this is a long-term problem. It sounds like we're on the verge of collapse. They're gonna run out of food in Johnstown. Those folks will be heading this way! If you have the airport open, can't they fly in some relief supplies?"
"I ain't heard of any relief comin'. Nothing has come in since this all started," Responds Zach. "The tower has a working radio and they have been talkin' to Fort Indiantown Gap, east of Harrisburg. But, that's above my pay grade. I'm supposed to recon from here down to Somerset, and then over to Flight 93. I'm hopin' to swing out and see Mark and Becca when I head that way"
"Flight 93! Oh Zach, it's bad out that way!"
"I bet, a few thousand people are probably stuck there. Can't be a pretty site."
"No, Zach, some drug kingpin has been ravaging that area. We took in a few refugees from out there. This gang has been raiding the farms and towns. Just taking people off the road. I pray your parents are okay."
"Jody and my family are with Mark and my mom! You say it's bad out there?" Zach responds angrily.
"I don't have much to go on, but yeah, I hear it's bad, Zach."
They talk a bit longer. Pastor Heath and Zach pray together briefly, for Zach's safety on his mission, and for Zach's family. Anxious to move on, Zach says his goodbyes.
* * *
Back in the hummer and heading south, Zach's mind races as he thinks of his family. He sent them to where he thought it would be safe. A place he helped prepare to be safe. What if they got caught up in the mayhem that Pastor Heath described? Should he have had them stay in their home in Richland? His home is on the 'wrong' side of 219. But Rocco and Katie were okay. His mind is in turmoil as he thinks through his past decisions.
His self-reflection is disturbed by his driver smacking him on the shoulder. "Sergeant White, yo dude, snap out of it!" his driver yells at him. "Get your head in the game Zach! We're in no man's land and you got your head up your ass. We all got family too, but let's get our job done first. You been through this before."
"Yeah, but then, I didn't have five kids, and my family wasn't in the middle of the shit storm too," Zach replies. He shakes his head to clear his mind. "Sorry, I lost focus. Let’s get our mission done. We won’t be no good to anyone if we end up dead."
"Jerome exit is just ahead, they will probably have a roadblock too. Let’s get a game plan for this." The driver says.
The driver is right, they need a protocol for clearing through roadblocks, friendly or belligerent. "Let's pull over here and hash this out before we get into something we don't want to deal with."
They talk out how best to proceed, realizing how much more perilous their mission is than they first perceived. The Hummer will continue to lead with the SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon) gunner at the ready. The deuce will follow as over-watch with another SAW gunner perched over the cab of the truck. The old suburban will be the cavalry/ambulance that will rush in if there is trouble. The three trucks with twelve men and women mount up and proceed towards the Jerome exit.
* * *
As the convoy slowly crests the hill above the exit for the small town of Jerome, they see no roadblock on the highway. A small checkpoint has been set up on the exit ramp. Zach has his convoy stop as he heads to the checkpoint in the Hummer.
After a brief conversation and exchange of information, he returns to the convoy and they proceed south towards Somerset. The chaos along route 30 is confirmed. They are told to be watchful.
The next exit is the Route 30 interchange. There is a small guard on 219, but Route 30 is heavily guarded. After talking with these folks, Zach is alarmed. The control point on Route 30 had been overrun earlier that day. A large convoy of bikers, trucks, even large trucks with machinery had rolled through after shooting up their roadblocks. It took fifteen minutes for the convoy to roll through, and they shot up anyone and anything that stood in their way. Since then, they had rebuilt their roadblock, and many more people had come to help them out, including some vets from the area.
Zach takes all this in, trying to suppress the fact that this convoy of renegades was heading towards where his wife and family are hunkered down. They talk a few things over with the crew of vets, telling them they will help them out as much as they can, even giving them a several hundred rounds of 5.56 that will work in some of their personal weapons. They give the roadblock defenders some MRE's too, before heading on south towards Somerset.
* * *
Somerset, a town of about seven thousand people, has three exits off of Route 219. The PA Turnpike, I-76, runs through it, from east to west. The people of Somerset are hardy and self-reliant. Farmers, miners and loggers, they and their ancestors have carved a living out of the rugged mountains of western Pennsylvania for two centuries. Farming has been a way of life since before the revolution. This is where the Whiskey Rebellion took place. Two hundred years later, hunting fishing and trapping are skills still passed on from one generation to another.
Zach is surprised to see only a small roadblock of three dead vehicles at a choke point a mile before the first interchange. The Hummer stops a few hundred feet short of the roadblock. The deuce is two hundred yards behind him, the suburban stops even further back.
Zach steps out and hollers to the roadblock. "I am Sergeant Zach White of the 556th Engineer Battalion. I wish to bring you greetings and news from Johnstown. May I approach your roadblock?" He sees a man and a woman talk together.
"Approach slowly Sergeant White," the woman hollers back.
He meets the woman alone about fifty feet from the roadblock. She is dressed in army fatigues with a First Calvary patch on her right shoulder. She is probably in her mid-twenties, trim and good looking, despite a freshly stitched gash to her left cheek. She has a military issue 45 automatic on her battle harness but is carrying a .222 semi-automatic hunting rifle at a ready position.
They both instinctively stop about ten yards apart. She eyes him up wisely.
"There's looters and hooligans out and about, what brings you down this road Sergeant White?"
"I've been ordered to scout down here to Somerset, establish communications and keep 219 open," Zach responds.
"Iraq, 2005, attached to the First Calvary, like you. When where you there?"
"2016, during the drawdown, MPs. Your convoy is traveling in combat formation. Don't try no shit here or you will die."
"I'm on your side Sergeant. I suppose there are a half dozen rifles covering us right now."
"Maybe," she says stoically.
"You got cut by some asses pretending to be friends and got too close. Probably happened two days ago."
Her eyes drop their steely glare for a second. "Maybe," she responds angrily as she brings her weapon to her shoulder.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I am on your side. Let's not be pointing guns at each other. All I want to do establish communications with your people. I'm supposed to patrol this highway and keep it open. Let's find some common ground, okay?"
She lowers her weapon, but her hard glare remains.
"You got a military issue side arm. You have ammunition for that. But, you are carrying a hunting rifle. No ammunition for your M16? You probably have some SAWs in your armory out in Friedens but no ammunition for them too."
Her eyes widen a bit and her glare softens.
Zach pulls his clip from his weapon and shows it to her, then slaps it back into place. "Locked and loaded sergeant, this is not a two thousand dollar club."
Her mouth goes a bit agape.
Zach pulls three of his six fully loaded magazines from his battle harness and tosses them to her. They skitter across the pavement and stop at her feet.
"When you get a chance, draw your weapon from the armory."
Without taking her eye off of him, she stoops down and gathers the three clips and sticks them in her cargo pocket.
"What's your name sergeant? Surely you can offer me that."
"Sergeant Mostoller, Mary, E5. 110th MP Company, 28th division."
"I'm going to tell you what I know Sergeant Mostoller. Hopefully we can work together, trust each other. I'm stationed out of the Murtha airport. America has been attacked, both high altitude EMP nukes, and from what we hear, ground level nukes too. We evacuated two planeloads of VIPs out of the Flight 93 Memorial. On the last flight, we got supplied with ammunition.
"The airport is secure, but the rest of Johnstown is in chaos. Richland is an armed camp and shooting people trying to cross 219. There is also a band of renegade biker drug dealers rampaging the countryside. Some towns are trying to rally together to defend themselves, and take care of who they can, but right now, chaos rules.
"You all seem to be pulling together. Tell whoever is in charge here what I have said. I'll be back tomorrow. Let's try to work together, okay?"
Sergeant Mostoller nods. "Thank you, Sergeant White. We are secure here, although we have seen some problems. I'll relay the information to our council."
Zach's ears perk up that she mentioned a council. Sergeant Mostoller is not reporting to a strong man, but to a town council.
* * *
Zach's convoy turns around. Out of habit they cross the highway and head north, back towards Johnstown. The sun is already getting low on the western horizon. He wants to make the ten-mile trip east to the Flight 93 Memorial, and the last few miles that will reunite him with his family. But to do so this late in the day will jeopardize all the men and women with him. He cannot risk their lives for his personal desires. He winces as they pass the Route 30 interchange.
Chapter 32, Expanded Horizons
Somerset, Pa
September 18
Major Kern's pale skin and sunken eyes betray his hidden anxiety. Both the northern and southern gates were attacked the night before. He had to order his men to fire on civilians who were just looking for food and water. It weighs very heavy on his soul. He had been told to keep the airport open; his orders reflected that objective. But to what purpose? He thinks. Is there food that is going to be airlifted in? If so, a few lives lost for the benefit of the many is okay, Right? But if no relief is coming, why protect the airport?
Four men and one woman stand before him, the two officers in charge of security, his supply sergeant, his communications officer and Zach are meeting with Major Kerns.
"So what you are telling me is we are good on feeding the people here on base for several months, but water is starting to be a problem and the sanitary conditions are going bad."
"Correct sir. We have food for over three hundred people to easily last till next spring. We have started setting up water collection systems and large boiling tanks to purify it. But bathing and personal use will need to be strictly monitored. Latrines have been dug and we are building privacy structures now, outhouses for lack of a better term."
"What are you hearing from Indiantown Gap?" Major Kerns asks the communications specialist.
"Very little sir." She responds. "I only have one channel for them, and they have not responded. Our last communication was two days ago, like I told you then. We are to hold the Murtha airport and they will send relief when available. They gave me no time frame on relief, even when I pressed them on the issue.”
"As you know, we did manage to get a HAM radio working that a civilian brought us," She continues. "What we hear from that is very bad. New York, DC and LA all were hit by Nukes. The rest of the major cities are in chaos, food riots, or more precisely food wars, are rampant. The rural areas are better off, because they have food, but they are being overwhelmed by refugees from the urban areas. Militias are forming in some areas to keep out the refugees and chaos."
"What about FEMA?" the major asks.
"The few places that FEMA managed to set up centers have been overwhelmed. A site near Atlanta was taken over and is now run by a drug kingpin. Another site near Cincinnati got overrun yesterday, we were told it was complete mayhem. A site in Texas and a site in Arizona are still handing out food, but it is chaos. Now, those are reports from civilian’s sir, but it is the best info I have."
"You all have heard about the attacks on our positions last night. We had to fire on civilians. I don’t know why we are keeping this airport secure. The only good reason would be to accept relief flights. From what you are telling me, that probably is not going to happen."
The room falls silent.
"Sergeant White, tell everyone what you found out yesterday," the major says, breaking the tension a bit.
Zach takes a few minutes to tell them all he saw and heard. The Richland armed camp, the Davidsville refugee station, the renegade column that crashed through Route 30, and the strong roadblock at Somerset.
The group of officers and senior NCOs discuss all these developments and their options. A strong concern is that the people they have around them are going to start to leave, wanting to take care of their own families.
"These are our options," Major Kerns states. "Abandon the airport now, and leave our people to their own resources. Stay, until we are told to leave or can no longer hold out. Or pursue an orderly retreat over the next few days."
He is met with blank stares from this statement.
"Here is my plan…" The major explain that he wants to hang on to the airport for two or three more days, hoping for orders or a relief flight. In the meantime, food, ammunition and other supplies are to be apportioned to everyone there. They will all be allowed to go their own way, but it will be encouraged that they form small groups, squads, that will try to uphold civility in their own neighborhoods. They will also send out patrols to gather information to be disseminated before they abandon the airport.
Zach's patrol is to go south again. Another patrol is to head north to Ebensburg. A third is to make contact with the authorities in Richland and Windber.
As the group is about to break up, Zach interrupts. "Sir, do you mind if I say a prayer for all of us?" One of the lieutenants chuckles. Zach turns and looks at him. "The world is on fire and you laugh at God?" he says gently. "Prayer never hurt anyone. Many soldiers ha
ve come to God in their foxholes as the enemy's shells fell around them. Leave if you want Mike, but I would like to pray for all of us."
"Go ahead sergeant," the major says. "We all could use God on our side."
Zach clasps his hands before him, bows his head and closes his eyes. "Dear Lord, please forgive us for our sins. We face turbulent times, and many of us have turned away from you. I ask that you touch each of us here, as we go out, trying to bring peace and stability to this land. May you protect us and grant us wisdom as we try to offer help to those in distress. In Christ's name I do pray, amen."
Just as Zach quits speaking, the major, head bowed, joins in. "Father God, protect these young men and women. Father God, help us do right and follow your word. Father God, show us your path, that we may follow it. Father God, protect our nation, protect your children. Amen."
Silence fills the room again. A confident silence. They have been prayed for. If there is a God, they have asked for his protection and guidance. They all know what they are to do, so they begin to make it happen, as soldiers do.
* * *
Zach has the same crew he had the day before. They know the route and what to expect. He has requested five thousand more rounds of 5.56 ammunition as barter for an alliance with the Somerset people. They are leaving several hours earlier than the day before. He desperately wishes he has the time to get to the Flight 93 Memorial and on to his parent's homestead, where his family is.
The convoy bareley slows down as they pass the Richland area. They are waved through as friendlies, their emissary is already talking to the roadblock officer. They pass by the Hoffman church refugee station with a wave. The crowd is larger, but they seem to be handling things.