Prepper's Crucible - Volume Six: The End

by Andrews, Bobby

  “It’s a start,” Cory said to himself, and followed the others into the forest and made his way back to the cave.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EMP PLUS FIVE MONTHS

  PRESCOTT NATONAL FOREST

  By the time Cory was able to begin to organize the various groups in the forest, they were becoming a formidable force, although they still operated as individual, small units. They continued their ambushes as separate groups but operated closer to town and out of the mountains, and reaped enormous gains in terms of the weaponry they possessed from looting the victims of their ambushes. They had four Humvees with .50 Ma Deuces mounted in the rear of the vehicles. The cave was filled with cases of grenades and ammo for the M-16s they liberated from the opposing force, and they managed to get four Barret .50 sniper rifles with 200 armor-piercing rounds.

  The ranch continued to feed the group from its vast store of dried and canned food, as well as the occasional steer or chicken they slaughtered on their trips back to keep provisions moving to the partisans that were now their allies. Cory calculated that they could feed everyone for another year, so long as they spent one day a week hunting and fishing. He made a priority of moving as much long-term food to the cave as would fit, and together with the other fighters in the forest, never came back from one of their raids without stopping at the ranch to load supplies to bring back to the woods. Cory had mixed feelings about sharing the location of the cave with men and women who might be captured and made to reveal their hiding place; but, like everything else, it was a calculated risk.

  Ben moved back to the ranch and lived in the barn to care for the livestock during the cold weather. It worried Cory and the others to no end that he was there by himself, and they all knew that, eventually, the Mexican Army would somehow find the ranch and they would lose whatever supplies and livestock remained there; but they could do little to change the situation.

  As their activity level increased, so did the reprisals against the populace of Prescott. General Santamaria, who they learned from a soldier they captured was the commanding general of the Mexican forces, was killing ten Americans for every Mexican soldier Cory’s group killed. They took men, women, and children alike to fill the quota. Daily execution squads roamed the streets, picking people at random to face firing squads. As the death toll in town increased, so did the number of volunteers who entered the forest to find the partisans and a means to take revenge for their executed loved ones. They were hard people, many of whom felt they had nothing to lose, and fearless warriors.

  Infiltrators were a constant worry by then, as Tim pointed out to the leaders at one of their meetings; so they tried to establish a system of not accepting anyone who did not know existing members of one of the groups. And they continued to operate as individual groups, so nobody outside that particular group knew operational plans and movements. However, that was about to change, at least for a few larger missions that required coordination.

  When Cory finally felt like they had enough weapons and ammo, he called another meeting of the leaders of the various groups that lived in the forest. They came to the cave for the meeting, and Cory held it after they had a meal of barbequed chicken, freshly slaughtered at the ranch and brought to the cave for the occasion. When everyone finished their meals, Cory stood and began speaking. “I think it’s time we establish some goals for ourselves. We have five areas of operations I want to focus on, and I need all your best thinking on each one. First, we need to disrupt their communications so they can’t coordinate attacks or responses to us. Second, we still need to pick a small town to seize and hold for some period of time to show the populace we are a viable alternative to just letting the Mexicans have their way. That has to wait for now, but we’ll get to it before too long. Third, we have to pick up the pace in terms of ambushing convoys. At the rate we’re growing, we won’t have enough food and weapons for our fighters. That leads to point four, which is we need to start planning raids on their stockpiles. Not only does that pressure them by cutting their supplies short, it allows us to sustain the militia we need to become to win this fight. Last, we need to own the night and force them to stay on their bases so we can operate freely. Questions?” The room was silent, so Cory turned to Justin and said, “Justin, give us an update on the U.S. Army, based on your ham reports.”

  “Well,” Justin said, standing and moving to the center of the cavern. “We just took El Paso and we still have air superiority over Texas. The Army took heavy casualties in the fight, but seems to be moving our way. I can’t tell you how long it will take them to get here, but the rate of advance seems to be slowing quite a bit.” He sat down and glanced at Cory, who nodded at him and again spoke.

  “We need to send in some spies to help us identify several targets in town and then we need to hit them all at the same time. That will deliver a devastating blow to the enemy and put them back on their heels for a while.”

  “We’re sort of obvious,” Caleb said. “Look at us. None of us has had a bath in months and we all carry weapons.”

  “You stop at the ranch on the way into town, bathe, shave, and get clothes. We still have power and water there and there’s clothing in the house that will fit everyone. We leave our weapons in the barn with Ben and go into town.” Some of the leaders looked doubtful, so Cory added, “I’ll be leading the mission and you guys can come or not. Either way, we have to do this.”

  “I’m in,” Krista said. She was the tall woman with the intense eyes that Cory met in the meadow.

  “Me too,” Caleb added.

  “Okay,” Cory said, nodding his approval. “We need to find several sites to attack. We have to find their communications center and knock it out of commission for the rest of the attacks to work. That’s the first priority. Can you do that Caleb?”

  “We own it.”

  “We also need to find their supply depot and get as much food and ammunition as we can. Krista?” She nodded back.

  “You’re going to be at the battle site longer than the rest of us if you have to load supplies. You sure you want to take this on?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, but if it looks dicey, just burn the place down and get the hell out of there.”

  “I will.”

  “When we attack those two sites, we have to make sure they pay dearly when they try to come out of their bases,” Cory continued.

  “We can scout that,” Manfred said. “I got a son that still lives in town and he’ll know where the bases are.”

  “Finally,” Cory said, “the forces coming out of those bases will be heading toward the communications center and the supply depot. When they get by the first ambush outside the bases, we need to have another one between them and where they’re headed.”

  “I got that,” Lloyd replied.

  “It would appear we have a plan. All team leaders meet here tomorrow. We finalize things and move out tomorrow night to the ranch. The next day we head into town. Say goodbye to your loved ones and make peace with your God tonight. If we live through tomorrow and the initial attacks, we got a shot at beginning to take this place back.”

  Cory barely slept that night. He knew a lot of people were going to die in the attacks, if not during the reconnaissance mission. He went to Kate’s bedroll and nestled in behind her. She rolled over and moaned once. Cory said, “don’t take this the wrong way. I’m scared and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Don said that all the time.”

  “I thought he knew what he was doing.”

  “He didn’t think so, and neither do you. It’s the sign of someone who is willing to doubt themselves. Go to sleep. I’m tired and you’re being irrational.”

  “Guess so. Goodnight and thanks for letting me sleep here.”

  “It’s only for tonight so get over it. But I do like the arm around me when I go to sleep.”

  “Good night,” he said before falling into a troubled sleep.

  The group left the following morning after t
he other fighters arrived. The all had bathed, shaved, and found new clothing before going to bed.

  The following day, their recon went well and they returned unscathed. They went unarmed, so the repeated searches of the two ATVs they drove produced nothing. The bonus was that they were able to recruit two friends of Cory’s to help them locate their targets, and things went much more quickly than they thought possible. Most important, Cory’s friends also knew where General Santamaria lived. It was the old house close to the Mexican operations center in what had been the home of the last territorial governor. The front of the house was in the line of sight from a hill about 500 yards away. The group returned to the cave and decided to delay a day to allow them to sight in one of the Barrett .50 sniper rifles. They were going to try to kill the general as he left the house to go to the operations center to respond to their attacks. Tim chose a model 82A1 from the four they had captured, and left the cave to sight it in. He picked the 82A1 because it had a new ATN Ares 6-2 6-x scope with night vision. It was the best scope they had and perfect for the kind of shot he would take.

  As the size of the mission grew, so did the complexity of pulling it off with minimum casualties.

  They ghosted into town on ATVs at the idle. Each group took a separate route into town and moved cross-country until they could find alleys and secondary streets to move down to avoid hitting any roadblocks. They parked the ATVs behind houses and crept through the alleys to get to their ambush points. When they were all in position, Cory pressed his mic key once and waited. Time passed, and the only thing he could hear was the faint sound of Mariachi music, apparently being played on radios by the Mexicans who occupied the checkpoints and other facilities that surrounded them.

  An hour later, Cory fidgeted nervously. He was at the second ambush point with four fighters on each side of the road that led from the base closest to the supply depot. It was close to two o’clock in the morning and they were almost an hour behind schedule. The attack was due to start long ago, and he had yet to hear the final squelch on his radio that told him Krista was in place. Each of the six teams was given a number of squelches to emit when they were ready. Her signal was six squelches. His earbud was fixed in his left ear so the wire didn’t interfere with moving his rifle. “Damnit,” he whispered. A few seconds later, he heard the six squelches. Two minutes later, he heard the gunfire commence. It started with two single gunshots. “Sentries at the supply depot,” he thought. Then two more, and he knew the fight at the communications center had started. The volume of fire grew quickly until it seemed like a wall of gunfire. Cory patted the man next to him and motioned for him to advise the next man down to get ready. They were on a ridge overlooking Highway 69. All the men began removing grenades from a bag that sat on the ground behind Cory and dispersed to their positions, leaving thirty feet between them across the top of the ridge.

  The gunfire from the communications center slowed and then two massive booms split the air. “Hand grenades,” Cory thought, and smiled with satisfaction. Then, he heard the gunfire diminish from the supply depot. It stopped and he heard the roar of ATVs at full throttle. That sound stopped and Cory again smiled. Total silence ensued for around five minutes, and then he again heard the ATVs at full throttle again. The raid on the supply depot had just ended.

  He then heard the roar of the Barrett. One shot, and then a second, and he thought to himself, “the general is down.” He smiled in satisfaction and then frowned when he thought of the reprisals that would undoubtedly occur.

  “Get ready and pass it down,” he hissed at the man closest to him. He heard engines straining in the distance, and as the sound grew closer, he pulled the pin on his first grenade and held the safety lever down. As the column of trucks started to pass his position, he yelled, “throw!” Four hand grenades rained down on the column of vehicles below them, and Cory stood when the blast noise stopped and fired into the men below. The rest of his group did the same, and Cory saw more grenades coming out from the end of the line that they formed on the ridge. He fell to the ground, waited for the explosions to echo off in the distance, got to his knees, and continued to fire on full automatic. He stood again and emptied his second magazine at the men who staggered out of the trucks, many holding their hands over their ears, and downed three men before his mag ran dry. The other shooters also ran dry and the gunfire subsided to nothing. A few shots rang out from the Mexicans who still stood, and Cory decided to break contact.

  “We’re out,” he shouted, and the men fell back and took up blocking positions, leap frogging in groups until they got back to where they parked the ATVs. They loaded up and headed out of town, splitting into two groups when they reached the outskirts of town. Cory could hear the roar of other ATVs behind him and hoped everyone made it out from the various locations they had attacked.

  The groups headed back up the trails and into the mountains separately, and one by one, pulled up to the cave and got out the vehicles. The sun peeked over the horizon as Cory stood at the base of the hill that led to the cave and did a mental count of the returning fighters. Everybody pulled up and got out of their ATVs, and Cory noticed Caleb and his group were missing.

  Krista limped to where he stood, blood leaking from her leg, and said, “Caleb and his crew didn’t make it. We saw them get taken out at one of the checkpoints. They were lit up by a shoulder-fired missile and the ATV just disintegrated. I don’t think there were any survivors.”

  “Any wounded?” Cory asked.

  “Just me and my son,” she replied.

  “Tim!” Cory yelled. “Can you and Rachael police up the wounded and get them to the cave for treatment?”

  “We’re on it. And we got the general and one of his aides,” Tim said before he moved from vehicle to vehicle and lifted the wounded out of the ATVs, placing them in a neat line in front of the trail to the cave. The rest of the group took turns helping them into the cave.

  “Eric, we got a total losses number yet?” Cory asked.

  “Seven dead and four wounded,” he replied. “Two of the wounded are severe and probably won’t make it.”

  “Get everyone to disperse to their camps after they empty Krista’s ATVs and store the supplies in the cave. They can come back for their wounded later. I don’t like being this bunched together. We may get a reaction today and I don’t want all our eggs in one basket. And debrief everyone before they leave and let me know how much damage we did when I wake up.” Cory walked off, entered the cave, and sat with Kate at the picnic table. He stared at her and she at him.

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” she said. “It’s war, and people die.” They slept together that night on her bedroll and she stroked his hair until he fell asleep, then she wept.

  CHAPTER SIX

  EMP PLUS 39 YEARS, TWO DAYS

  PRESCOTT, ARIZONA, TERRITORIAL CAPITOL

  Horace again strode through the downtown plaza and made the climb up the hill to the assisted living facility where Cory was spending his final days. He was exhilarated at the quality of the piece he wrote, and knew that his glimpse into the private life of the former governor, and his contribution to the history of the partisan movement that was so important the restoration of the Southwest, would propel him to a fame he never before experienced. He was in tears as he finished his article the night before, and he felt as though he finally did something that really mattered. He had taken the action of brave men in a horrible circumstance and made them real to his readers. He stopped at the base of the hill that lead to the home, looked up, and saw Cory sitting on the balcony of his room. He waved at the former governor, who waved back. Horace felt some steel in his spine and resolved to get the governor what he wanted: a truly united United States. He continued up the hill and walked into the reception area, where the same crusty old woman staffed the front desk.

  “Seeing Cory again,” he said, noting that every light on her phone was going off, but the ringer wasn’t making any noise.

  “We turned the ri
nger off three hours ago. You created a storm of crap we would rather not deal with.” She waved him toward the elevator with a dismissive gesture and returned to watching the local TV station that was running a story on high school football teams.

  Eric entered the reception area from the elevator and walked over to where Horace waited.

  “He’s ready to see you.” Horace noted Eric again wore the old .45 hog leg and wondered why he wore different pistols.

  “Can I ask why you wear a .45 here and wore the Glock yesterday?”

  “I accessorize.”

  “Huh?”

  “Google it.” He turned and walked back to the elevator. Horace followed and the two men again rose to the third floor and exited the elevator, moved through the room, and out to the balcony where Cory lay on the chaise lounge.

  “Don’t bother to hand me the paper,” Cory wheezed. “I already read it, and judging by the phone calls, I would say it was a damn fine piece. Almost cried reading it, but that’s just not me.”

  “I did my best,” Horace answered, surprised at how desperately he wanted to please a man who was about to die, and could do nothing more for him. “Can we continue the interview?”

  “I’d rather not; but a deal is a deal, so fire away.”

  Horace consulted his notes and then said, “I am pretty sure you guys occupied the town of Mayer for a while and that wasn’t too long after your first organized raid. Can you tell me about that?”

  “That was about a month after the first raid. We rode to Mayer and took over a small supply base there. It was close to the freeway that their convoys used to bring supplies from the railhead in Phoenix to the Prescott area, so they unloaded the semis there and moved the supplies into Prescott with old M-35s. We decided that we could get supplies and force a fight in an area where we could make them bleed.”