“How can you say that?” Bruce asked him.
“Bruce, our farm is off a small parish road that you have to turn off onto a smaller parish dirt road that then comes to a dead end. The parish road in front of the house is not even on most maps. The odds are in our favor,” Mike said, getting a drink of water.
“Mike, one of those Hummers has a Mark19 grenade launcher on it, and the other three vehicles have M-2 fifty-calibers. Those alone will level our farm,” Bruce said.
“We have not even seen any of the military vehicles move. For all we know, the hostiles don’t know how to operate them. I have not seen the remote firing station move on the Stryker all day, thank God. With that thing’s thermal, we would be dead. If we were to attack, you want to bring up Angela, Alex, and Paul to attack forty-one or more. My number is closer because I counted four times by what they were wearing, and you did not see the post across the road. That would be eight-to-one odds. I can tell you we would lose several of us if not all,” Mike said in disgust.
“I was just using us. We can’t use the others; they have not trained with us,” Bruce said, lying back on his pack.
“That’s twenty-to-one odds. Even SEALS do not fight those odds. Let’s just get it out in the open. Yes, I want to rescue those people, but I’m not going to die to do it. It would serve no purpose,” Mike said, looking at Bruce hard.
“Buffy is here. It’s thirteen-to-one odds. Will you just listen to my plan?” Bruce asked.
“If you tell me now that you are taking Buffy on an assault of this size, I swear to God I will shoot you in the leg, leave you here, and tell Debbie where to find you. Then she can beat some sense into your head,” Mike said, looking at Bruce, letting him know he was not kidding.
“I can help, Daddy Mike,” Buffy told him.
“Not now Buffy,” Bruce said, looking at Mike. “We hit them late at night with you on over watch and Buffy watching your ass. I sweep in from the west, take out the guards there. I start at the northwest corner and sweep around and come in from the back. You take out roof, truck, and corner guards from here. When they try to come out the front to circle around to get me, you take them out. If we get compromised, we just disengage and leave,” Bruce finished.
“If we hit them, we have to kill them, or they will try to find us,” Mike said, looking at him. “I don’t want to hit them; it’s too risky.”
“Think about our wives, daughters, and sons then answer,” Bruce told him.
“That is not fair,” he said, looking at Bruce. Nodding his head, Mike pulled out a notebook and a laser range finder to make a sniper sketch of the area for ranges. He put his boonie hat on and crawled out to the overlook.
“Angela,” Bruce called over the radio.
“Here, Bruce,” she answered.
“Follow the fence line to me. I want to give you the map. Move slowly and be careful,” he told her. She replied she was coming.
Twenty minutes later, Bruce headed to the fence line; he did not have to wait long for the two to show up. Pulling out his map, Bruce showed her where they were and where the farm was.
“Why are you giving me the map and showing me this? You are leading us,” Angela said, holding the map.
“We are attacking them,” Bruce replied.
“Are you fucking nuts?” she asked.
“Keep your comments to yourself, and listen. If anything happens to us, lay low and ease further east then head south to the farm. The radio you have on is being monitored at the house. Call them when you get within two miles. Don’t just walk up to the house; you will get shot. If Mike and I have to pull out if things get bad, we can’t come to you. We will lead the gang away from the farm, and you take the group to the farm. If the attack goes good, we will call you up here,” Bruce told her.
“Bruce, please don’t do this, or at least let us help,” Angela begged with tears in her eyes.
Not in the mood for another argument, Bruce said, “No, they are a threat. You have your orders, now follow them. Don’t talk on the radio after it starts unless you are attacked. Mike and I will need the radio open to talk to each other. Don’t let anyone unpack anything after dark. When we start the attack, wake everyone up and be ready to move toward us or away from us.”
“Bruce, I can help. You have Buffy here; why can’t I help?” she asked, crying.
Bruce felt like he was talking to one of his kids, shaking his head. “No, you might get killed or get one of us killed. After you train then you can but not now. Can you find your way back to camp?” Bruce asked.
Angela wrapped her arms around him. “Yeah, Cheryl and Paul are by the fence so we won’t pass them,” Angela said, pulling him down and kissing him on the cheek. Bruce kissed her on the cheek and watched the two leave, then he and Buffy went back to Mike.
At 6:30, Mike reported the guards had changed over the radio. He pulled back so they could go over the sketch. They both agreed that the guards were probably on six-hour watches. He said the hostages were still at the two guard stations and another car was stopped. The hostiles had killed two, an old man and woman. They took what looked like two teenagers from the car into the store; he could not tell what sex they were. He also reported what sounded like gunshots from the store.
They talked back and forth and agreed on a plan of attack. They would start the attack at 3 a.m. if the guards changed around midnight. They agreed the rally point was the camp or the farm. Then they started to prepare equipment. Bruce pulled his tomahawk off his pack and put it on his back. Then, taking out his Gerber with an eight-inch blade from his pack, he tied it to his left forearm. He called Buffy over, giving her his Benchmade switchblade. He showed her how to unlock it then open and close it then clipped it inside her back pocket. After he put it in her pocket, she turned to him.
“I want to go with you,” she said.
“Buffy, you have to protect Daddy Mike so nothing comes up behind him. If something happens to him, we all die. Do you understand? You have to watch his back. Once this starts, you are not to look at that store at all. Watch the woods and the field,” Bruce told her. He knew she could do it; they were not worried about the hostiles finding Mike, but infected. If an infected was on the road, then they could hear him when he fired.
“Okay, Daddy, I will protect Daddy Mike,” Buffy said, hugging him, and he returned her hug.
They took turns on watch, seeing a lot of the same movement around the store. Only a few infected came against the hostiles, and they always took them out with silent weapons. Around 10:30, the hostiles quit walking around outside, and only the guards were out, but Mike had seen the one on the roof use a radio. That could complicate things, so he had to be the first to go.
As the time started getting near, the rush started hitting Bruce and he let it come. At 12:30, the guards changed. Mike and Buffy moved into position. Mike was looking at the store, and Buffy was lying between his legs, looking back. Bruce watched her settle in checking her weapons and magazine pouch. In the starlight and moonlight, he could see her shaking. Bruce rubbed black face paint over his face while looking at Mike and Buffy. He thought about calling Paul up to take her place then decided not to. He had seen her fight, and she did not freeze up. He did not know how Paul would perform. Bruce pulled back to the packs.
He picked up his P90 and the magazine pouch. The magazine pouch would go under his left arm and the P90 under his right. He jumped up and down to see if he made any noise and heard a buckle flapping. He tied it down and jumped again and did not hear anything. Lowering his NVG over his left eye and turning on his thermal, he walked into the woods. He put distance between himself and Mike. After he went a hundred yards and stopped then he headed west to take out the far guards. When he reached the road, he stopped in the tree line and saw a blue walking down the road to the store.
The blue was only twenty yards from him walking down the center of the road. After the blue passed, he eased out looking to his right and did not see any more blues coming. Pul
ling his tomahawk, he left the tree line, running across the ditch onto the road behind the blue. As he ran up to the blue, it was starting to turn toward him. Bruce buried the spike of the tomahawk in its head. The body almost yanked the tomahawk out of his hand as it fell, but he managed to pull it out of the skull as the body hit the pavement. He ran into the woods on the west side of the road and headed toward the truck first.
He called Mike on the radio, telling him about the blue on the road. Mike said okay and that nothing had changed. Bruce eased through the woods until he came to the small clearing at the intersection. The truck was pulled into the clearing with the back toward the road. He saw a man raping a woman on the ground by the passenger door. Her hands were bound, and she was not even fighting her attacker. Looking around, he could not see the other guard at the truck. Looking across the road, he saw the Jeep and the guard sitting at the steering wheel. He did not see a hostage with the guard.
Sitting less than twenty yards from the truck in the woods, he kneeled and waited. At 1:40, Mike called him and said two were coming toward him. Crouching lower, he waited and saw a hostile take a hostage to the guard at the Jeep. The Jeep guard got out and took the hostage to the other side of the Jeep. The hostile then walked over to the truck guard. Bruce saw the second guard sit up from the bed when the hostile who brought out the hostage to the Jeep called to the truck. The call could not have been heard very far. These fuckers have learned that sound brings trouble, Bruce thought. The hostage delivery man went back to the store. Guard number one left the woman on the ground and walked to the back of the truck. Bruce could hear them whispering but not what was said. They started giggling as Bruce heard a beer being opened. He smiled. Hope you get drunk. This will make it so easy, Bruce thought. Guard number one kicked the woman on the ground and made her get in the back of the truck. Bruce sat and watched the guards drink two six-packs in thirty minutes. Then guard number one opened the passenger door, climbed in, and laid down. Bruce watched number two lie down in the bed of the truck.
Bruce could feel the wave coming, starting in the small of his back. Goosebumps started coming up, and his pulse quickened. As the wave hit him, it felt like a drug coursing through his body. Rage began to fill him as his breathing became shallow and steady. He almost started early because he just wanted to feed the rage and ride the wave; targets were near. Then he heard Mike in his earpiece tell the group they were starting.
Bruce eased out into the clearing, moving like a shadow up to the passenger door. He saw the guard lying asleep. He saw three people in the back of the truck: a woman and a young boy, both with their hands tied, with rags tied in their mouths, and the guard asleep. Bruce eased around to the driver door, opening it very gently. Pulling his knife out from his forearm, he eased his left hand over the guard’s mouth. Then in one motion he clamped his hand over the guard’s mouth and drove the knife into the top of the skull then twisted the handle. His body became instantly tense then limp. Bruce yanked his knife out, feeling blood hit him in the chest, and eased to the bed of the truck. Holding his rifle with his left hand so it would not hit the truck, he leaned over the side of the truck, raised his right hand over the sleeping guard, and drove the knife into his forehead. His body twitched several times then went still. The sleeping hostages never stirred.
He clamped his hand over the woman’s mouth, and she woke up. When she saw Bruce, she tried to pull back. He shook his head and pulled her to him, whispering, “I’m here to rescue you. Wake the boy, and get in the truck. Don’t start it, or you will be shot by the rest of my team. Lie down in the seat, and lock the door. If you hear two soft knocks, open up. Now move and be quiet. No noise, and whatever you do, don’t shoot a gun, or you will be shot. I will give you a gun later.” She nodded her head that she understood. He pulled the body out of the front, and seeing a knife on the man’s belt, took it off, giving it to the woman. They climbed out of the bed. As they got in the cab, he told them to close the doors easy. They whispered thank you and closed the door.
He turned to cross the road and told Mike, “Truck post cleared.” Then he crouched, walking across the road, coming up from behind the Jeep. Easing his head around it, he saw a woman curled into a ball, crying, with her hands tied. He did not see the guard. He eased back down when Mike said on the radio that the guard was sitting on the front bumper. Bruce eased around the driver side, not wanting to have the hostage give him away. Seeing the guard with his back to him, Bruce rushed him, coming around the front of the Jeep, and drove the knife into the man’s throat, knocking him to the ground. Bruce landed on the man’s chest and put his hand over his mouth as he pulled his knife forward through the man’s throat with his arms and legs hitting the ground. Blood splashed over Bruce from the man’s throat. Bruce turned the knife around and drove it through the man’s skull, and he stopped moving. Going to the hostage, he told her the same as the others and cut her bound hands, telling her to go to the truck and knock softly twice but be quiet. She nodded and went to the truck.
Bruce reported, “Jeep clear” and went to the back of the store. Two hostiles were sitting in chairs with M-4s beside them, twenty feet from the back of store, looking at the lot behind the store. One was asleep; the other was listening to music with headphones on. Bruce eased up along the wall until he was behind music man. Clamping his hand over music man’s mouth, Bruce drove his knife into the base of the skull, twisting it in one motion. The man never even lifted his arms. Bruce repeated it for sleeping beauty, never waking him. Moving along the wall, Bruce eased along the back of the building until he came to the back door. He put his right ear against the door––his left had the earbud; not hearing anything, he updated Mike. Mike said hold.
Bruce strained to hear the suppressed shot and thought he heard something a couple of times but was not sure then Mike said guards were down. Now any guards seen outside would be shot on sight by Mike. Mike told him to hold; someone had come out the front and was heading to the east toward the ice machine. Then Mike reported, “Man down.” Bruce was fixing to grab the door when Mike told him that Buffy had just shot two blues and for him to hold. Mike came back up and said to continue; they were good.
Bruce grabbed the handle, gently turning and easing the door open. Seeing light coming from his left down a hallway from under a door, he moved slowly to the door. Opening it, he saw a man sitting at a desk, with his right side to Bruce, reading a porn mag with a clip-on book light. He rushed him and drove his knife under the right ear and upward. The man kicked the desk several times, sounding really loud to Bruce. Shit, he thought, this was going so good. Looking on the desk, he saw a radio. Well, he got the radio operator. Mike reported another one down. Bruce just clicked his radio; he did not want to risk talking after that asshole had kicked the wall.
Moving down the hall, Bruce came to the last door. It should lead into the store, he thought. Opening the door slowly, he eased through and saw hostiles sleeping everywhere. Then he noticed at least four hostages. The only light in the store was coming in the front window, and that was moonlight that was at the far west end. To his left eye, he could see everything; his right could not see shit. Four hostiles were sleeping in front of the cooler. Looking in the cooler, he saw several hostages with hands tied and gags in the mouths. The cooler door had been right in front of the door he used to get in the building. He did not go in it because who could have known that was being used as a prison cell.
Moving forward, Bruce started on the four lying in front of the cooler, driving his knife into the base of the skull and covering the mouth on each one. The last one knocked over a bottle of whiskey when he twitched but nothing more. Bruce looked down the three aisles of the store, seeing several people lying on the floor. He saw a hostile walk across the front of the store and out the front of the store. Mike called, “One outside.” Bruce did not remember him saying that last time, but he was a little busy then. Then Mike called, “Man down.” Bruce moved to the back row, seeing eight hostiles and on
e hostage. Bruce started an assembly line of death.
Taking down three more, he moved to the next hostile, who had a naked woman lying beside him. The woman was turned to the racks; the hostile was turned to the wall. He shoved his knife into the man’s skull, and his knee hit the wall. Bruce froze, waiting for hell to unleash, but it didn’t. Moving down the line until he came to the last one, Bruce looked in the main area. In front of the sales register, he could see six hostiles and two hostages. These hostiles were lying on mattresses thrown on the floor. He would save the last one in that aisle; he was too close to that bunch. Bruce moved back to the hostage. He rolled her over and put his hand over her mouth and leaned to her ear, whispering he was here to rescue her but there was fixing to be shooting, so she had to lay down and act like she was asleep. She rolled back over and acted like she was asleep.
Bruce moved back to the back of the store to start on the middle aisle. Mike called, “Four o’clock.” Damn, an hour already? Time flies as you’re having fun, he thought. Bruce saw a hostile stand up and head to the door. As he heard the door open, Mike called, “One outside,” then “Man down.” Mike then said Buffy had seven blues down and one runner that didn’t have a chance to roar. How in the hell had Buffy done that? Bruce wondered. He clicked his radio to acknowledge.
Blue Plague The Fall Page 38
