THE TOCABAGA CHRONICELS: (BOX SET PART II - BOOKS #6-8)

by Thomas H. Ward

  “What if I don’t accept?”

  “You must accept the fight or be killed on the spot. It’s kill or be killed just like the Roman Dimachaerus.”

  “You’re gonna let Lisa knife fight. That’s crazy!”

  “Man, she’s good. I’ve been training her for three years. She already killed four men in the ring. Lisa is fast and knows all the tricks. I’ll bet you she kills Ken in less than three minutes.”

  “I only terminate bad guys that are trying to kill me or my family. You’re killing for fun.”

  “Jack, we are the bad guys. You have no choice.”

  One of the big rusty metal doors squeaked opened and in walked Lisa with Johnny. Lisa looked strong and in great shape. Her arm and leg muscles were well defined.

  Lisa asked, “Are you two done talking yet?”

  BOSS commented, “Not yet. What’s up?”

  “I thought you should know Hank was bugging little Johnny, asking him a lot questions.”

  I asked, “Who the hell is Hank?”

  “He’s an admitted pervert, but he has never bothered any of the kids living here,” replied Rico.

  “You let a pervert near your kids?”

  “He didn’t do anything or I would have killed him. He just rubbed Johnny on top of the head,” Lisa advised.

  “That’s it! Jack, you can fight Hank. Kill him if you like. He’s a worthless piece of shit anyway,” BOSS said.

  “Ok, you got your fight. After I kill this pervert we’re out of here.”

  “Hank is no push over. He’s a tall lean fast guy. Not as strong as you but I think he’s faster than you. Why are you in such a hurry to leave?”

  “Look you don’t understand, my people will be looking for me. I don’t want a war between our groups. If they think you’re holding me against my will there’ll be trouble for sure.”

  “How many people you got?”

  “I have enough people to match your ragtag group. They’re fully trained and well armed. We also have two BFVs’.”

  The Bradley M3 Fighting Vehicle (BFV) is named after General Omar Bradley from WWII. The BFV is operated by a three man crew and is fully armored. It can transport up to six fully armed combat ready men. For weapon power it fires a 25mm chain gun which can destroy most tanks and has a 7.62 M240 machine gun.

  “If you got Bradleys then that’s another story. Where the hell did you get those from?”

  “There’s a Platoon of Rangers based at Fort Desoto. They control the BFVs’ and an Abrams tank that protect Tocabaga and the Ranger base.”

  “Shit, you got some serious fire power. Ok, here’s the deal. You and the kid can leave anytime you want after the fight tomorrow, but I keep the SUV.”

  “That’s fine with me. I just wanna get back to Tocabaga and take care of my family.”

  Knowing Rico, I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. He was going to try and pull some kind of shit. He has a giant ego and always wants to be in the limelight.

  Rico commented, “Come with me and I’ll show you around. I built this place so we could defend it. I have two hundred and twenty people here. One hundred of them are fighters. The others provide support functions.”

  Lisa and Johnny tagged along behind us. It was a bright sunny hot day with a clear blue sky.

  We went outside to review the perimeter of the school grounds and I asked, “How much territory do you control?”

  “We go wherever we like but no one is permitted inside our security zone. The zone goes west to Interstate 275 and east to 9th Avenue. The north limit is 62nd Avenue and south is 46th Avenue. That’s the area we can safely defend. We patrol the zone 24-7.”

  “How do you obtain your food and supplies?”

  “We forage, steal, or do whatever is necessary to obtain what we want. Some of the men and women go fishing. We have a small garden and also raise chickens. One of our men trapped some rabbits and we’ll try to raise them. The body needs a lot of protein to maintain muscle mass.”

  “Raising rabbits is a good idea. On Tocabaga they run wild and we hunt them.”

  The school property had about ten buildings and it was all surrounded by a twelve foot high chain-link fence with razor wire on the top. There was only one way in which was through the main class room building. Rico had four M2 50 caliber machine gun nests, one on each corner, located inside the fence. At the main door he had sand bag fortifications and two men on guard armed with light M249 machine guns.

  The M2 heavy machine gun is a 50 caliber Browning machine gun (BMG) round that can go through steel, even an engine block. It can go through one side of a car, come out the other side, and still kill someone. The BMG has a muzzle velocity of 1,900 miles per hour or 2,800 feet per second. The BMG bullet is a ½-inch in diameter and nearly 4 inches long. I call it the Superman Bullet.

  A SAW M249 is a light machine gun that fires a 5.56 NATO round up to 700 rounds per minute. It is an awesome weapon that can be moved very quickly. You need 2 men to carry all the ammo this baby fires. It is belt fed or uses 100 round drums. The effective range is 600 yards.

  There were sandbag emplacements in between the machine guns and they were all connected by a line of trenches. Using the trench network forces could move from one position to another without getting shot.

  I noticed the buildings themselves were made of brick and concrete block. They all had steel doors and the windows had a thick metal mesh screen covering them. I was impressed with the whole layout. Rico had done a good job turning this school into a fortress. It would hold up well against small arms fire but not against heavy weapons like a tank.

  I told Rico, “Good job on your defensive network. It’s impressive to say the least. What type of weapons do you have besides the machine guns?”

  “Our assault rifles are mostly AK47s’. We have some pineapples and a few RPGs. I put some claymore mines around the perimeter.”

  An AK47 fires a 7.62 x 39mm round. It is an assault rifle developed in the old Soviet Union by Mikhail Kalashnikov in 1947. Officially it is called the Auto Kalashnikov hence AK47. It is the weapon of choice for terrorists since it is cheap and readily available. Worldwide more of these guns were produced than any other type. It is a sturdy rifle and dangerous at close range but it is not very accurate.

  A rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) is a weapon system that fires rockets equipped with a war head that explodes. They are very dangerous for ground troops, can shoot down choppers, and also stop tanks if the correct type of war head is used.

  The Pineapple is a M67 hand grenade. It is a small bomb that can be thrown by hand. It’s designed to detonate after a set amount of time, usually about 4 seconds. The M67 is an anti-personnel fragmentation grenade that disperses lethal fragments upon detonation. If you’re within a few meters then kiss your ass good-bye.

  Internally an M18A1 Claymore mine contains C4 explosives and a layer of seven hundred 1⁄8-inch-diameter steel balls set into an epoxy resin. When it is detonated, the explosion drives the steel balls forward, out of the mine. The steel balls are projected in a 60° fan-shaped pattern that is 6.5 feet high and 55 yards wide at a range of 150 feet. A very effective killing weapon because one mine can kill or wound many men. It cuts them to pieces.

  “Where’d you get that stuff from?”

  “I still got connections with the police and military.”

  “I imagine you still do.”

  “Our big problem is food. Feeding this large group of people isn’t easy.”

  “I think you need to increase the size of the garden and raise more chickens. Chickens lay eggs which are great protein and they provide meat. You could also have more people fishing. On Tocabaga we bring in 500 pounds of fish a day.

  “What is your command structure and how does your internal political system function?”

  “I have four Lieutenants’ and eight Sergeants’. They all have some type of military experience. What do you mean by political system?”

  Rico didn’t like the word pol
itical. He doesn’t want to share power with anyone.

  I advised Rico, “You know the people who aren’t fighters. The ones who do all the support work. Who’s in charge of their activities?”

  “I just tell everyone what to do. Believe me it is a full time job. I’m getting tired of it.”

  “Your people need to elect four or five leaders to head up the different support activities like fishing, gardening, hunting, and so forth. Then let people volunteer for a work group of their choice.

  “You need to elect a Board of Directors made of six to twelve people.”

  “Jack, this isn’t a Democracy. I’m the BOSS around here. I got the final word on everything.”

  “Ok, but to make your job easier let the people elect a head person for the different activities. That way you only have your four Lieutenants and four supervisors reporting to you.”

  “I got a better idea. I’ll appoint them myself. If they don’t do a good job then I can fire them.”

  “Ok, whatever you say. You need to set goals for the support groups so you don’t run out of food. I would let them elect their own leaders. They know better than you who’s the best at what they do.”

  “Why don’t you stick around and help me out. You could handle that for me.”

  I looked up at the sky and then at the ground thinking how to answer him.

  “Sorry, Rico, I can’t do that.”

  “You mean you don’t want to help out an old buddy.”

  “I’m needed on Tocabaga.”

  Rico stood there for a few minutes, folded his arms, and looked down at the ground. I could tell he was thinking what to say.

  “Jack, do you think I’m crazy?”

  “You’re not crazy, just a little mixed up. The Feds screwed up your head when they took your family. That would screw up my brain. Tell you what I’ll do for you. I’ll come here one day a week with some of my people and help set up a system. I have excellent farmers and other good people that can teach your group.”

  Lisa commented, “That sounds like a good idea. Don’t you think so, Rico?”

  “Yes, it’s a good idea and I appreciate your offer.”

  Rico stopped and pointed, “Here’s our garden area. We just increased the size. We do need help to improve the amount of crops we grow.”

  I looked at the small garden and there were about ten people working the field. One man, with a straw hat on, dropped what he was doing and started walking towards us. He was lean looking and in good shape. He took off his hat showing his red clown-like hair.

  The red headed man walked up and said, “Hi Johnny,” and touched Johnny’s head. I knew instantly that he was the pervert Hank.

  I seized his arm and growled at him in a low voice, “Touch the kid again, and I’ll kill you!”

  The pervert replied, “You mean like this,” and he touched Johnny on the head again. Now my blood was boiling and I had to kill him. There is nothing I hate more than a child molester.

  I was getting ready to grab him by the throat when he suddenly drew his handgun and pointed it at me. Fast as lighting Rico snatched it from his hand and hit him in the face with the barrel knocking him down. Blood was running from his nose.

  As he stood up Rico told him, “I’ll give this back to you later. For pulling that gun, you’re going to fight Jack to the death tomorrow night. Now get the hell away from us before I kill you myself.”

  Hank hung his head down as he started to walk away, but then he hesitated, looked at me, and hissed, “You’re a dead man walking. I’ll get the kid after I kill you.”

  Rico calmly said, “Ok, that did it. You should kill him now, Jack,” as he handed me his Black Bear.

  Johnny shouted, “Look out Grandpa. He’s got a knife!”

  Lisa pulled Johnny aside, out of the way, as Hank lunged at me with a knife in his left hand. I turned sideways while jumping back and the blade just missed slicing open my gut.

  The thrust threw Hank off balance putting his back directly in line with my right hand. I stabbed him in the back, on the left side, right below the shoulder blade with all my might knocking him to the ground face first.

  Then I stomped on his knife hand and he yelped as his hand or fingers broke. Smashing his hand again, with my combat boot, I kicked the knife away. He was flopping around trying to get up so I dropped down, with all my weight, ramming my right knee into his spine.

  He let out a groan as the wind got knocked out of him. Sitting on his back he couldn’t move as I forced his head down. I quickly shoved the sharp tip of my blade into the base of his skull, where the spinal cord connects to the brain stem, and rammed it home with all my strength. In a second his body went limp.

  I sat there on his back for a minute to gain back my breath. The fight was over in less than a minute and Rico commented, “Jack that was a thing of beauty. For an old man you still got what it takes,” as he helped me get back on my feet.

  I wiped the blade off on Hank’s shirt and gave it back to Rico. “Thanks Rico, but I’m slowing down. The pervert would have killed me if it wasn’t for Johnny.

  “Good job Johnny you saved Grandpa’s life.” I was shaking from the fight because it used all my strength and energy up.

  “Don’t worry I got your back, Grandpa.” We all laughed at that comment, but it was true.

  Lisa was holding onto Johnny keeping his eyes away from the bloody body. We walked away from the dead child molester, as other people ran up to observe what was going on.

  Rico told one man, “Get rid of his body.”

  I heard someone say, “That new guy just killed the pervert.”

  Another one replied, “Good, I’m glad he’s dead.”

  I thought how could Rico let people like that into his clan.

  “Lisa, give Jack back his guns. I trust him one hundred percent. He doesn’t have to fight tomorrow since he just killed Hank,” Rico advised.

  “Jack, I’d like you to stay tonight to obtain a better idea of how we operate. Maybe you’ll stay tomorrow to watch Lisa fight.”

  Lisa, while holding on to my arm, said, “Jack, please stay. You can help Rico out and watch me fight. Who am I fighting, Rico?”

  “Ken the Marshal.”

  “Alright, we’ll stay tonight, but after the fight tomorrow we have to leave. I promise to come back to help you organize your group.”

  That night, a few hours after a dinner of grilled squirrel, peppers, and greens, everyone went to the meeting hall or gymnasium. Rico sat on his throne and I observed from the side lines with Johnny. Sitting next to Rico, on his right was Lisa, and to his left was Joe. I assumed that Joe must be his second-in-command. Behind Rico sat his four Lieutenants and everyone carried guns.

  It was getting dark and the room was lit up by the flickering flames of smoking torches. The skylight windows in the ceiling were open to let the heat and smoke out. The room was hot and the body odor was strong.

  I looked at Johnny and he was sweating. Johnny held his nose and commented, “It stinks in here.”

  There were, by my estimate, about one hundred people jammed into the room. Joe spoke up, “This meeting is in order!” Then he slammed a big hammer to the ground … Bam … Bam … Bam … and all was quiet.

  “BIG BOSS will speak now,” Joe shouted.

  BOSS stayed seated and yelled, “Does anyone have any grievances?”

  One man stood up and commented, “Yes, I want to complain about the food. There’s not enough food and it tastes like shit.”

  Everyone in the room started to laugh, including me.

  BOSS answered, “You say it tastes like shit. Then you don’t have to eat it. That will leave more for others. You can find your own food from now on. Guards throw him out!”

  “Are there any other grievances?”

  A middle aged woman stood up and advised, “We need to have better clothes. All we have are rags to wear and old shoes.”

  “Ok, you’re in charge of clothes from now on. Do whatever it take
s to make everyone happy. By the way I want a new pair of pants. Have them ready by tomorrow.”

  Another person stood up, “BIG BOSS, we need a crew to keep the buildings and grounds clean.”

  “Ok, good idea. You’re now in charge of daily clean up. Pick five people to help you.”

  “Are there any more grievances?”

  One young man raised his hand and stood up. “My name is Jay, Sir. I’m a perimeter security guard. The problem is Big Les took my AK47.”

  “Les stand up!” BOSS shouted.

  A man about six feet six inches tall stood up towering over everyone. In his huge hands the AK47 looked like a toy gun. He appeared to be around forty years old.

  Rico asked him, “Did you steal his gun?”

  “No, it’s my gun. The little shit is a liar.”

  “Jay, can you prove it’s your gun?”

  “Yes Sir BOSS, my name is carved in the butt.”

  BOSS slowly rose out of his chair with Joe following behind him and walked up to Big Les. He held out his hand to take the AK and Les hesitated for a second, but handed over the gun. Rico looked at the butt and then handed the gun to Jay. You could feel the tension in the air as BOSS turned around looking at Les.

  “Les you’re guilty of stealing from a fellow clan member and lying to me about it. That’s not good Les. That means we can’t trust you,” BOSS advised in a soft voice.

  BOSS while turning around in circles he raised his arms high in the air. His arm muscles were flexing when he yelled, “I hereby sentence you to death!”

  Then he quickly dropped both arms and, as if on cue, Joe swung the big five pound sledge hammer. You could hear the sickening thud of hard metal striking Les in the back of the head.

  I grabbed Johnny, turned his head, and buried his face in my gut so he couldn’t watch the brutal killing.

  Les fell to the ground moaning as Joe struck him again and again until his skull caved in. There was no doubt Les was dead. No one in the room made a noise, fearing they could be next on the Hit list.