A long Lonely Road Box Set 3

by T J Reeder

  With the wheels turning, we set to preparing for our insert into the area and the best way for us was thru Oklahoma. We have good contacts there and they are aligned with the Republic of Texas, so that was our best route. If push came to shove we would have support since they weren’t invited to the meeting either. We could move around openly in OK. But I wasn’t taking any military vehicles. Too easy to spot and comment on- word moves fast even without radios.

  Sandy and May came up with a good idea. They had measured and tweaked and figured out that their Jeep would fit in the cargo trailer we took to Texas behind the Big Ford Excursion, and for once I wasn’t inclined to comment on their wanting to play with that damn set up. It could very well be the ace in the hole for us. I figured we would take both the Ford and the Dodge pulling the trailers. We just wouldn’t be hauling Buck and the gang with us. We would have living quarters and we could haul a lot of gear in the stock trailer.

  Our people were going to move out separately in small groups taking different routes, and take up positions along the OK line with Kansas and Missouri ready to roll in if needed. I really hoped we weren’t going to be needed; I’d rather learn all we could before things went to hell in a hand basket.

  As I recalled, one of my lovely wives, (Beth, I think) had ‘borrowed’ several Barrett 50 cal rifles from the Barstow supply center, so we will take them also. I’d love to have a few hummers with Ma Deuces on them, but they would really attract attention. My lovely ladies said, “Let’s put hummers on flatbed trailers and cover them with tarps with lumber stacked on top to break up the shape.” I love them. We now had six hummers with 50’s on them and enough ammo to sink the Bismarck.

  The meeting was a week away when we rolled out. We were followed for a ways by the rest of the troops who soon scattered to the winds. We would hook up (more or less) later. We would all be in the same area, but not all jammed together, and try to stay under cover when possible.

  I headed right for the old border crossing where we first met Harry and Bear; I wanted to get that report from the Texas Guard as to the drone situation. We made it in a long day and were welcomed by the usual crew. We spent the night, and over breakfast were told that yes- the Texans in fact do have some drones and were working to get them online, but the hardware that got fried was proving hard to find.

  I suggested they put out the call for some real ‘computer geeks’. If it wasn’t a mechanical issue, then that’s what they needed. I feel better, because if the Texas folks can’t get theirs running the others out there should have the same problem. I did ask for their Warthog to be on standby if we needed it.

  We were running without the older speakers that Old Woman is gathering, but if this turns out bad then we won’t need them. With that we headed north for the OK/KS state line where we would tuck in under something to await the meeting.

  Charley suggested we send some people into the area as scouts. I liked the idea, but was very worried about any of our people getting caught in there since we have no idea what’s going on. I said I’d go, but I couldn’t ask anybody else to do it. The girls voted that down, so I couldn’t and wouldn’t send anybody someplace to do something I wouldn’t do. Charley agreed…too easily. I just looked at him and finally nodded but I didn’t like it.

  Hell, for all I knew we might be jumping to the wrong conclusion here. Maybe these folks from DC were really trying to help…Now I knew I really needed to stop smoking that shit. But no, a buzz can’t last 40 + years, and all my instincts are saying, “Bullshit!” really loud.

  I can’t remember anything good coming out of Washington in my lifetime! I had been a republican for all my voting life and right now I can say with 100% honesty that Harry Truman was the last decent, honest President of my life.

  He saved the lives of most of the U.S. Marine Corps by dropping the bombs. He was before my time since I was a kid, but he was the best and I never trusted any of the ones since. And I see no reason to now.

  The party of Pelosi and Schumer? Not for one fucking second. Reid? Should have been dropped off a bridge in a gunny sack at birth along with most of their breed. They were (for the most part) all dog shit on the shoes of decent hardworking Americans. Wait a bit and I’ll tell you how I really feel. And the Republicrats weren’t any better.

  I think all of them go there with good intentions, but soon fall for the ‘glory’ and the perks and that (added to everybody kissing their asses and telling them they are wonderful) is more than they can stand up to. If you ain’t got a lot of honesty and decency in you before you get there you’re doomed.

  I know one thing in my very being: If this movement is coming from former members of congress then we need to wipe it out RFN (Right Fucking Now) before they get a toehold. And yeah, I know. Where do I get off making such decisions for people who maybe want what these jack wads are serving up? Fine, stay in DC, and their faithful can move in with them. I just don’t want them out here in the open air polluting it with their stink.

  Beth reached over, rubbed my neck and leaned on me, which eased the knots in my whole body, She felt the rage building and took it right out just that easy. If we could have bottled whatever she has before the EMP there wouldn’t have been a kid anywhere on some mind-numbing drug. She could have sat in the room with the PLO and the Israelis and *problems solved*. She is the soul of our family and god, do we need her.

  Having calmed down, I had time to think and again wondered if we were over-reacting? I know none of our people wanted anything to do with rebuilding the country back to what it was before the event, and I haven’t met but a few who do. For the most part they are the type who, even several years after the fact, are still sitting on their starving asses waiting for FEMA to come save them. I’m sorry, but when the last of them die off the country as a whole will be stronger. At least I think so, but then again I’ve always believed my drummer was the only with the right beat- the rest of you poor bastards were all out of step.

  In this frame of mind there is only one thing to do- take a nap! So off I went to the trailer, and just got comfy when here ‘they’ come, but they weren’t here to beat me up this time. They know a good nap sets the world right.

  We spent the next several days just hiding under trees and such waiting for the meeting to get going. According to our people with the Cheyenne, folks were arriving in small groups, but it looked like several hundred were there. The meeting was set up in some former huge concert hall, which I didn’t like at all; few doors in or out. Our people were staying back as close to the doors as possible. They also had it worked out so at least a few of them would be in the restrooms at all times.

  Finally, on the first day of the proposed three-day meeting several choppers arrived with the representatives of the new order. Our team had people outside hidden away as observers who reported that all but one of the choppers had troops on board, dressed in black and all tactical, like the former SWAT teams, and they were heavily armed.

  When it was time for people to enter the building they were told no weapons allowed; not even knives, but all they were using was a walk-thru metal detector. Our outside people said there was a lot of arguing but everybody was complying by leaving their weapons in whatever they used for transport. My former doubts were sailing out of sight. This wasn’t a ‘Hey! Join us!’ meeting, this was a ’Remove the Opposition Leaders before the Dance’ gig.

  Our scouts inside the city reported several roadblocks being set up by the same troops who arrived as the choppers landed. All were within a couple of blocks of the meeting place. Time for plan A.

  Charley ordered his scouts to ease in and take out the roadblocks where we would be coming thru. We got as close as we could without tipping our hand, but I couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving our main group behind, I drove right up to the roadblock and with as much cornpone in my voice as I could muster I ‘Splained that me and my bunch was runnin' late fer the big meetin' and we’uns was sure sorry’.

  The head gun dog looked us
over and basked in the admiring glances of the good looking babe riding with the old hick and told us to hurry. He radioed that we were coming. As soon as we rolled out of sight I stopped and unlocked the trailer with the jeep and the other two good looking babes with the old hick. All they had to do was slip the inside bolt and the door dropped and became the ramp.

  I parked back a ways, and leaving Beth and Kid in the truck I took off for the door. I was stopped and told to leave my weapons, so I dug out a cheap revolver and a pocketknife that wasn’t much better and sailed thru the door. I got to the bathroom and headed in where I found several men getting all comfy for the meeting. As they headed out I made eye contact with the two Indian men still taking a really long whiz. Both smiled at me and one just shook his head, he was one of Charley’s men.

  Inside there was probably 200 men with a scattering of women- the leaders of small settlements that were doing OK in these times. I took a seat well to the rear and was told by one of the goons all decked out as Tommy Tactical to move forward. I smiled and said no thanks- that I was comfy right here in the back row. He got that look that I’m sure just scares the shit out of a lot of folks back east that are buying into this bullshit. Maybe he was under orders to not make waves right now so he backed off but stayed close and glared a lot. I was down with that. I liked him close. He had a nice rifle and pistol and from the looks of it even a few grenades. Yep, I liked him close.

  I had no more than got settled when the lights dimmed, a curtain opened on the stage and there stood several suits along with several of their jack-booted thugs in the background. I could see the old iron fist in the shabby velvet glove for sure. They were all stern-looking types as befits high-ranking officials.

  The one in the middle stepped forward and said the typical “Thank you all for finding time in your busy schedules to come today” speech. Then he launched into a thirty minute sales pitch on the wonders of the new Government and the goals for rebuilding America.

  He stepped back and another took his place and spent thirty minutes explaining how it was going to be a tough time ahead but darn it! It was gonna be so worth it! Yes, America would once again be the torch lighting the way thru the darkness that had enveloped the world.

  The next one took up his thirty minutes explaining about the necessary tough new laws that were to be enforced which outlawed the private ownership of gold, silver or any of the other ‘PM’s’, as he put it. He said this was necessary to assist in the rebuilding the America we all wanted for our families.

  The last speaker was in a suit but it was plain that he belonged in the ‘Tommy Tactical’ trappings the others were wearing. His spiel addressed the need to collect all weapons to speed up the rebuilding of the nation, and to makes the country a safe place for those families just waiting for things to return to normal.

  The first speaker came forward, the lights came back up and he called for questions. A complete idiot might have taken a whole minute to understand the people he was pointing out to ask their questions were plants. Contempt is the word that came to my mind; they only had contempt for us.

  After the dog and pony show had gone on a while and while he was trying to locate his next mark I stood up and called out my question and I was pretty proud of it. It went like this. “Excuse me, but are we to understand that after several years of being on our own and building new and for the most part happy lives, you want us to surrender all we’ve built, along with our weapons that we need for our own defense, along with the very money we use to have commerce between our communities and give it all to you? Would you say that sums it up?”

  He was straining to see me at the back of the place and I was worried because he wasn’t in the least bit flustered. He smiled and said, “Well sir, might I ask your name and what community you represent?”

  I smiled just as big and said, “Well, I can point out that you didn’t need to ask that of the other folks you asked to speak, but of course you already knew them and their questions since you most likely coached them yourself.”

  “So let me say this. No! Just that- NO! And to all the folks in here; if you wanna get out alive you best start running right now, because this is a set-up and nobody is supposed to get out alive.” The dude that had tried to make me move headed right for me with a big smile while reaching for his handgun. So I met him halfway and buried one of the CIA letter openers in his throat, right thru that big old vein. I had his rifle in hand as well as his pistol which I tossed to one of Charley’s men. I stripped magazines and hit the door running with the sound of a stampede closing on me. In the lobby area several of the goons were down and our men were armed.

  I heard choppers spooling up, crashed out the door and hit the ground in one move. The goons were all lined up and ready, but not for people with weapons. Most didn’t know the show had started. From the ground we opened up on them and it wasn’t even a fight. Whoever trained these people hadn’t spent years surviving by being better with a gun than the other guys. The crowd behind us had been surviving, and within seconds were scooping up the weapons of the dead.

  I kept going right for the trailer, because those choppers could not be allowed off the ground. We had jumped the gun by at least an hour or more and caught them with their dicks in their hands. Before I got there the ramp of the trailer dropped and out flew the jeep- May driving, Sandy on the gun. They slowed for a second and Kid leaped into the back, hooked up a safety rope and was ready to help feed the gun. I wasn’t real happy with that but as usual nobody asked me my opinion. I simply pointed at the choppers, got a huge smile from all three, and with that they were off.

  The firing had picked up a lot since the goons were fighting a retreat to their ride home. Then I heard the ‘whine from hell’ as it was once described to me by a door gunner in another war after mine. Sandy was eating their choppers alive; it was like watching a wild beast ripping things with a chainsaw. She was for once using trigger control, and when she fired a chopper was not gonna be lifting off.

  I saw one bigger chopper getting off and I knew Sandy wasn’t in position to hit it. The poodle shooter in my hands wasn’t gonna do it, but I remembered the Barrett’s and was running for the trailer. I got there at the same time as three of Charley’s lads. We all grabbed one of the big fifties, and in seconds had magazines in them and the bipods propped on truck hoods. The bird was staying low and headed straight away when we opened fire, and with 40 of those fireballs chasing the chopper it was doomed. I don’t know who hit it or how many bullets hit it, but it just came apart in midair. I never saw anything like it before.

  The mopping-up went on for a while as the goons had to be dug out one at a time. They knew they were screwed so they made a fight of it, but in time it was quiet. I was sitting on the ground with an ice chest full of cold beer and surrounded by Charley’s lads, all joining me in the refreshments. First the girls arrived, covered with smoke and all three with blood on their faces. When asked, it turned out several rounds had impacted the roll bar and fragments got all three, but they were smiling so I wasn’t worried. Sandy bailed out and rushed to me so I said, “Hey! I’m OK!” “That’s nice” she said, as she grabbed my beer and three more. Even Kid got one, why not? She fought for her family and people, and shed a bit of blood. She earned it. She wasn’t a Kid anymore. I felt a sense of loss for a moment but the smile on her face made it OK. They were pumped. The jeep gun did a masterful job in preventing any of the choppers from getting in the air, which could have been a problem for us.

  Charley walked up, took a beer and said, “John, you are corrupting my young men.” I said, “Yes I am.” He laughed and sat beside me. He looked at the girls and said, “Well, they got to use that mobile chainsaw, didn’t they?” I was gonna have to admit that having that gun on the jeep was a damn good idea. And all three turned and smiled at me…witches. Charley just mumbled something like, “Yes they are” but I wasn’t sure.

  The survivors were congregating around us and the girls were passing out b
eer. After the whistles were wetted down one man asked who we were. I told him, and he nodded and said, “Yep. I heard 'bout y’all and I heard right it looks like.” Somebody else asked how I knew it was a set-up. I had to smile and say, “I’m embarrassed to say, but any of y’all remember that old movie Braveheart?” and most did. I told of the beginning when he was a lad and his father and older brothers and the other leaders of their clan went to a meeting with the king and he took them prisoner and hanged them all. I said, “Every time I hear somebody is calling a meeting I think of that old movie and I always sit in the back by the exit.” This got some good laughs.

  We spent the rest of that day and the next sifting thru the wreckage gathering what we could including the papers that had survived when the big bird went down; how it kept from burning is a real mystery, probably because it hadn’t gained any altitude and just fell and flipped over, tossing the suits out as it did. We didn’t learn a lot from the paperwork except this was the first such meeting planned and by now ‘they’ probably knew it didn’t go too well.