Fire From The Sky | Book 12 | Embers

by Reed, N. C.

  “I hear a vehicle,” Raven told him as she prepared Plank to move. Before Tanner could comment, several figures eased into the woods around them. One immediately knelt to check on Plank, while another set up a stretcher and prepared it for Plank to be rolled on to it.

  “You’re in charge, right?” a man that Tanner recognized as Bodee asked.

  “I am,” Tanner nodded. “Better get down, sir. Their shooting ain’t bad.”

  “Bullet will find me wherever I am if my name is on it,” Bodee shrugged. “Kenny, Samuels, fall back to that tree we saw coming in and set up the next line. You got about one minute so make it fast. I need you ready to lay down suppressing fire after that.”

  “Sir!” the two replied in unison, disappearing into the brush.

  “Doc?” Kevin asked, looking at his friend.

  “He’s had it,” Doc shook his head. “You did a good job,” he told Raven Elliot. “It was just too much to treat in the field. Not your fault. Let’s get him out of here.” Howard took one end of the stretcher and Tandi the other, carrying the fallen trooper out of the combat zone and back to the Hummer they had come in. Raven followed, waiting for someone else to call her. Kevin turned back to examine the battlefield before them.

  “Okay, gang. We can’t hold this spot. Too many in that swarm. We’re going to fall back about twelve to fifteen yards into the woods, where my associates will have set up a M48 along with some other surprises. One surprise I got with me, right here,” he grinned, pulling an M18 Claymore from a pouch and setting it in the open area before Tanner’s position. Arming the radio detonator, Kevin nodded to himself before looking at the other two.

  “Always leave a lovely parting gift,” his grin was almost evil. “Alright, fall back firing, but don’t shoot each other, or me. Especially me,” he added with a chuckle. “Let’s go.”

  Tanner nodded, tapping Gray on the shoulder. She began to squirm back away from the open area they were in, then turned and hunkered down as she ran to the next position.

  “You’re next,” Kevin ordered Tanner. “Get clear.” The young NCO nodded and repeated Gray’s moves, moving quickly back. Once they were all gone, Kevin settled back into the edge of the wood and waited.

  He didn’t have to wait long as the enemy across the way realized that the lack of fire meant that they had an opening. Erupting from the woods on the east side of the highway, a mass of people, some dressed in little more than rags, charged down the hill onto the interstate and across. Kevin waited, judging their progress and holding the detonator in his hand.

  He allowed the rampaging mob to sense victory before tripping his parting gift.

  The Claymore mine has at times been referred to as the ultimate equalizer for small units. A pound of C4 explosive propelling 600 steel ball bearings in a near one hundred-eighty-degree arc tends to have a scything effect on a charging horde of humans, and this time was no different.

  Kevin didn’t bother to wait for the smoke to clear in order to see the damage. He had seen the effects before. He withdrew immediately to a chorus of screams and groans behind him, enemies who were discovering why it was better not to attack the farm and her defenders. It was a hard lesson, but then life was hard.

  It was harder if you were stupid.

  -

  Gillis heard the Claymore go, followed by a sharp drop off in the gunfire from his left. That would ease some pressure on the line, though they were now at least one man down. Even as he had that thought, Raven Elliot came hotfooting it out of the woods toward the M-RAP. Behind her, Gillis could see a Hummer moving back toward the farm, too slow to be carrying a badly wounded soldier to see a doctor.

  Which meant one of his men was gone.

  “Plank’s gone, sir,” Raven declared as she piled into the M-RAP, immediately restocking her medic’s bag with supplies she had positioned inside. “It looked like he caught a three-round burst, probably of steel core ammo.”

  “Very well,” Gillis replied. Steel core ammunition was cheap and made good target ammunition. It also made for a heavily penetrating round.

  “Bodee and two more are over there with Tanner now,” she continued. “Bodee was the one who set off the M18. Bought some time, at least.”

  “Good deal,” Gillis responded. She didn’t really need to hear him, but he knew it was expected.

  Heavy gunfire erupted from the right before she could say more as their attackers began pushing at another place in line. Gillis had six people on his right, spread across two positions. It would not be enough against a determined push.

  Fortunately for him, Clay knew it too. Even as Gillis watched, an ATV skirted his position, Kevin Bodee at the wheel along with another trooper Gillis recognized as Matt Kenny.

  -

  Corporal Lynden Witherspoon held the position to the immediate right of Lieutenant Gillis’ M-RAP, along with Private Richie Millard and Carol Kennard. They had not been so heavily engaged as Tanner’s position yet, but the traffic to their front was starting to pick up. Witherspoon was starting to sweat a bit, and the only reason he hadn’t called for help was because he knew there was none to send.

  The sound of an ATV behind them was a welcome relief to the young NCO. Either they were being reinforced, or else they were being pulled. There were other possibilities of course, but he didn’t want to think of those.

  “That’s Kevin Bodee,” Carol told him quietly. “Don’t know who that is with him.”

  “Matt Kenny,” Richie Millard said. “Hey, they’re bringing equipment with them.”

  They were indeed bringing equipment with them. Bodee was carrying a Mark 48 machine gun while Kenny was carrying extra ammunition for same. Bodee also had the satchel for another M18 strung over his shoulder.

  “Things are tight and getting worse,” Bodee didn’t mince words or waste time on small talk. “We’re being hit all along the line, seems like. Maybe to try and find a weak spot or else maybe they’re just that stupid, I don’t know. You qualified on the Light Weight?” he asked Witherspoon, wanting to know if the trooper was trained on the machine gun.

  “Yeah,” Witherspoon nodded.

  “Me, too,” Millard volunteered.

  “Great,” Bodee nodded. “You shouldn’t need any coaching, then. I’m going to set this,” he pulled the M18 over his shoulder, “and rig it with a remote detonator. If you need it, wait until you’ll get the most possible damage from it before you pull the plug. Me and Matt are going to go and deliver this same setup to Gates at the far end, then we’ll be back to fix you a fallback position. We’re doing that for everyone. Keep in mind that we can’t let this line go. There’s nothing behind it in any strength until the farm, and if they get that far then we failed. Got it?”

  “Got it,” all three replied.

  “The fallback spots are meant to be a new, more solid position, so when you get there, be prepared to stay, no matter what. I doubt I need to say it, but make sure that 48 makes the trip. We’re not exactly flush with heavy equipment and can’t afford to lose one, let alone get it turned around on us. Okay, we’re gone, but we’ll be back.” With that he set the mine, left the detonator with Witherspoon, and then he and Kenny were moving.

  “In and out like a whirlwind,” Millard noted.

  “That’s how all of them move,” Carol noted. “Fast, hard and unyielding. Training under them was a cast iron bitch.”

  “I imagine,” Witherspoon nodded. “Well, we can-, never mind,” whatever he was about to say was left behind. “We got incoming. Get settled in. I think they’re going to try us now that they maybe failed on the other side. Looks like no one wants to try the fifty on that Cougar.”

  “I can’t say I blame ‘em for that,” Millard shrugged as he tried to mold himself to the ground. “I sure wouldn’t want to.”

  -

  “Sounds like Kev got the line positions fixed up,” Jose noted as multiple machine guns began firing to the east.

  “We’re eventually going to have to send the
m some help,” Clay noted. “Gleason has four left, plus himself, and I really want to keep them as a reaction force. See if we can pull anyone from somewhere else to lend a hand on that line.”

  “We can’t weaken our rear areas any further,” Jose swept the positions in questions with one hand. “None of them have more than two people. We need to leave the strength we have to the south, since that’s seems like a major push. That line was pushed back once already. Heavier weapons and better fixed positions should hopefully fix that, but not if we weaken those posts further.” He paused, studying the map yet again.

  “We can retrieve Gordy and Kurtis from Plum House,” Jose suggested after a brief pause. “We may can pull one more from there, since there’s no current action in their area. We can’t pull anyone from the hill since we expect them to be hit, assuming we can’t finish this off down here. We can pull Vic from Tower One,” he indicated the tower behind the Sanders’ homes, “which will leave Sam alone, but she’s definitely the better shot. We can take one of the girls from the bunker out front to replace Vic. Really need two people up there, even if they’re just spotters. Anyway, Gordy, Vic and Kurtis will make a good fireteam. Vic on a SAW or maybe a Mark 48, Kurtis on overwatch and Gordy for close-in action. It’s not perfect, I guess, but it’s close. And it will still leave Gleason and his few men left in reserve.” Having a reserve in a battle like this was of grave importance and could swing the battle their way at a crucial juncture.

  “See to it, then,” Clay ordered, his voice firm. He had to make decisive decisions and do it without hesitation when the time came. He couldn’t afford to waffle. Too much depended on it.

  “Right away,” Jose nodded and started posting orders that would move people around the board.

  -

  Ten minutes later, Mikki Reeves was in Tower One with Samantha Walters while Vicki Tully, Gordy Sanders and Kurtis Montana were gathered at T2, the latter two quickly filling ammunition pouches left empty by their earlier actions. Vicki was hurriedly checking out a Mark 48 machine gun while Moses Brown shuttled ammo cans to the trio to carry with them. Kurtis Montana also picked up HK MP5 a stubby 9mm submachine gun that would give him a short-range alternative he had lacked in his earlier fight, without weighing him down or getting in the way. He didn’t want to get caught in an up close and personal environment again with just his sniper rifle. As they finished, Kevin Bodee and Matt Kenny pulled up in front of the building in a large ATV.

  “Okay, gang, gather round,” Jose ordered. “Kevin has been up to the line and set them up as well as we can. Beefed up their firepower and left a man to replace a KIA. You five,” he swept the group with one hand, “are going up there as a reserve force. Arrow is in command. That line has to hold, people. There is nothing between it and the farm except air and opportunity. If we lose even a small part of it, then the farm is wide open. Make sure it holds. Any questions?”

  There were none. Everyone knew their business.

  “Then get loaded and get moving.”

  -

  It was like a chess game, and yet not. Clay looked at pieces on a map, moving them from place to place, either in response to a move by his opponent, or else for reasons of his own. It was far too easy to forget that each piece on this board represented a real, live human being. He glanced at a small pile of markers to the side at that thought. Not all of them were alive anymore, he reflected sadly.

  But in a chess game, he would be able to look at his opponent. Be able to see his opponent’s eyes as they studied the same board he did. In an actual chess game, if Clay made a mistake, no one would die because of it. While he might lose, it would still be just a game.

  If he lost here, now, then everyone on the farm would pay for it. Not just those fighting but the women, children and infirm now hiding in the shelters.

  So, he had to win. Using everyone to the best of their own abilities, no matter who they were, or how close to him they had become. He could grieve after it was over, provided he won. If he lost, then he wouldn’t need to grieve at all.

  -

  Jose returned to Operations to find Clay still studying the map showing where all their people and fortifications were.

  “Kevin and the rest are on their way back,” he reported. Clay nodded without speaking, still looking. Jose waited, mostly patiently. He knew that Clay would speak when he was ready and likely not before.

  “Pull the Plum House detachment,” Clay said suddenly, his finger landing on the small square that represented the Plum farmhouse. “Have them shut it down completely. Bring their Cougar to the Hill to bolster the defenses there. The kids can go to the shelter unless they have a normal duty station like Millie and Janice. Martinson will take command of their defenses and place his men as he sees best. If he thinks he can spare someone to join Hathaway in the bunker in front of my folk’s house, I’d appreciate it, but that’s not a demand. Just if he can spare them.” After the ‘rescue’ mission that had brought Mitch and the others back to their new defensive lines, Hathaway had been assigned to the empty position in front of the Sanders’ homes. Brannon Howard had been meant to join him but had remained with Tandi instead to help with moving the wounded.

  “I’ll be sure he knows,” Jose nodded, heading for the phone. “Anything else?”

  “Do we know where my father is?”

  -

  “Mister Sanders, you really need to let me get you to a shelter, sir,” Gail Knight said for possibly the tenth time since the shooting started.

  “Missy, no offense, but I am not going to be herded, shepherded or guarded by a young woman, no matter how skilled, who is no older than my grandchildren. Well,” he amended, “some of my grandchildren, anyway.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gail sighed in defeat. She had expected it but would keep trying anyway. If Gordon Sanders were killed, she dreaded the result. And Clay would not be happy with her, either.

  “Might as well give up, Gail,” Charley Wilmeth told her, a dry chuckle punctuating her words. “Wasting your breath.”

  “I know,” Gail gave another sigh, this one a very longsuffering one.

  “Are you two calling me stubborn?” Gordon demanded.

  “Yes,” they replied in unison.

  “Hmph.”

  “Too stubborn to even reply to us,” Charley snickered, and Gail had to cough to keep from laughing outright. Gordon feigned outrage at that, fighting a laugh of his own.

  “I blame this lack of respect for your elders on today’s lax moral standards and the lack of discipline in the home and school,” he told the two of them. Now, both of them were fighting a laugh, trying to keep the noise down.

  The three had been far back into the pasture areas when the shooting had started. Gail had been able to pick up some information on the radio, but contact was spotty at best. The three had decided to keep quiet for now and work their way cautiously back toward the farm, watching for trouble among the herds. They were approximately half-way home when Gordon had stopped.

  “What’s wrong, sir?” Charley asked, looking around them.

  “Nothing that I can see,” Gordon admitted. “But it has occurred to me just now that whoever is causing all this may well be after these very cows and horses. If that is the case, then the three of us and a few hounds are all that are standing in their way. Maybe instead of heading back, we ought to be staying put?”

  Neither woman wanted to admit it, but both though he was right. Two of the farm’s Kangal hounds were with them, both waiting to see what the humans of their pack were going to do. Dogs in general were very intuitive, and livestock dogs even more so. They could easily feel the unrest the three humans before them were feeling.

  “Operations, this is Gail, please respond,” Gail tried to raise the radio room. “Operations, this is Gail in Pasture Four, please respond.” There was no reply.

  “Nothing,” Gail shook her head. “If we stay out here, then it will just be us I’m afraid.”

  “We need to find a decent place
to hole up, then,” Gordon noted. “One with room for the horses and us. Just so happens, I know of one such place. It’s not comfortable by any mean, but it has the room for the horses and can give us a high point to see from.”

  “I’m for it,” Charley said at once. “Anything beats sitting out here in the open. Did that once already.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Gordon heeled his horse lightly. “Ain’t but a little piece.”

  The three rode in silence for perhaps five minutes before Gordon drew up before a huge clump of….

  “A dozer pile?” Charley asked, bewildered.

  “A what?” Gail looked at her, speaking before Gordon could answer.

  “A dozer pile,” Gordon chuckled, climbing down from the saddle. “When you clear land, land with trees and brush I mean, you end up pushing it all together, like so,” he indicated the brush pile. “Dozer pile just became the name for it since it was brush piled up by a dozer. Anyway, three generations of kids have used this place for everything from drinking underage to hunting to just…hiding out. C’mon. I’ll show you.” With that he disappeared into the brush, leading his horse. One of the hounds went before him, the second following.

  The two young women followed him with not a little trepidation, but neither had a better idea and it would at least provide cover and concealment, something hammered into Gail until it was second nature.

  Once through the outer brush, the two women stopped short, amazed at what they were seeing. The interior of the ‘pile’ was a rough circle of ground about thirty feet in diameter, mostly devoid of snow due to the cover above it. Around the center were dirt and wood ledges with rough steps leading upwards to the top. A large ring in the middle of the circle showed evidence of fires from the past, indicating that at some point people had used this place to camp, or at least for a bonfire.

  “Not a Holiday Inn, I admit, but then there aren’t any Holiday Inns left,” Gordon chuckled. “That plastic can over there should have a bit of sweet feed in it for the horses. There are treats in my saddlebags for the hounds. From here we can see most of the land around us and stay hidden at the same time. What do you think?”