A long Lonely Road Box Set 3

by T J Reeder

  Kid was holding her own, but she wasn’t up to their full skill level yet. One day it was going to be a real show when they were all even. We moved on to the armory, where Jones watched Jackson working his magic on somebody’s 44 mag. Smith and Wesson. Jackson could take oil on glass and make it smoother somehow. He looked up when we walked in and looked behind me. Not seeing ‘them’, he was pretty relaxed. He’s convinced they will steal anything he leaves sitting out. I keep telling him they only steal 1911’s but he has trouble with that.

  After that we headed for the motor pool where we found a high stakes poker game going. The betting was done with twenty dollar gold coins. Jones’ eyes bugged out at that, and he asked where they got all that gold. One of the gearheads who was watching the game opened a wooden crate that was full of the coins. Jones about crapped at that. I explained that we had tons of the stuff, but didn’t use it except for things like poker. He had trouble understanding they were playing for the bragging rights, not the gold. The gold was just a way to keep score. Jones said the folks in Texas were talking about using gold coins as a medium of exchange. I just nodded at that. We didn’t care at the moment, but maybe one day we would need all the gold and silver we had piled up.

  After the tour, we gathered back at the eating area where we had rabbit stew plus grilled steaks, grilled corn on the cob and hot bread. Jones asked if we ate like this every day. Sandy, who was just sitting down, said, “No, usually it’s better.” Jones asked who usually ate here, and May said anybody who wanted to, no matter who they were or where they lived in the canyons. And to put a point to it one of the fishing boats from across the lake came in to dock. The three man crew brought up a big mess of fresh fish. The cooks were very pleased with that and made them sit down for dinner. I had to explain it to Jones; the poor guy was really having trouble figuring out our lifestyle. I could see he might start thinking about a move himself. But would he be of use to us? An asset? Harry would know.

  After finishing off their dinner the men who brought the fish mentioned seeing a few ‘new’ boats in the area. They managed to get close enough to one to be able to use some high-powered binoculars and figured the men in the boat were either Mexicans or Indians…and the local Indians aren’t much into fish.

  I looked at Kid and winked. She smiled. Jones saw the bi-play and raised a brow. I reminded him that Kid was the one who put the thing together and we seemed to be a step ahead of the bad guys.

  Now that we had a plan and an objective, Charley sent out his best scouts in pairs and on foot, to work their way out in a half circle on land to locate the enemy. If they were out there, they would be found. We also sent people out in boats to find lookout spots and lay up with powerful spotting scopes. They would watch for anything. The fisher folks were going to stay to their side of the lake, meaning anything close to shore on our side was the enemy. Maybe.

  We took all the little birds and mounted guns on them. The bigger Blackhawks we were going to use to move people to wherever they were needed. I planned to be on the ridge with a Barrett 50 along with Sandy and May. The mouth of our canyon would be guarded by the Jeep with the mini on it and would also provide backup firepower on the landside. We had the best shooters from the fort move close but far away enough to not be spotted. I figured that these people were the ones who had been trained by our Special Forces for the Mexican Government and who sold out and took over a big part of the drug trade. They were trained for sure, but they hadn’t met anybody like us. They were used to running over poor peons who were lucky to have a 30-30 to fight with.

  I wanted this over fast and dirty because our people heading south were going to be facing a hell of a lot more guns than we were. Just because they were untrained and just gun thugs didn’t mean they didn’t have the ability to lay mass firepower on our people. Plus, I had a feeling the bosses weren’t going to risk coming here so we would have to go to them- and go we were for sure going to do. They were dead men walking.

  I was also worried about them having some kind of airpower, so I had the remaining Hummers with guns scattered out in places where they could sweep the skies of anybody trying to come in that way. They also had some of the Stingers the girls had ‘liberated’ from Barstow.

  I was really glad I had locked them up before ‘they’ shot them all up on the 4th of July. We were as ready as we could be, so we just kept living like we always do. The cave houses would shelter the women and kids. Most of the women were trained and were going to fight, but a lot of them weren’t so they would care for the kids. I tried to get Beth to go to the Hobbit houses when the time came but her reply was, “ Bite me.” But the kids would be there.

  Kid also refused to go and was manning the gun on the little bird that Blain was flying; it was set up for two people. I hated the idea, but I guess they figured if one was going they would both go together. How can I argue with that? Beth’s argument was that she had stolen the five Barretts we have and yet she had never even got to shoot one, so she was ‘manning’ mine with me- another argument lost.

  Waiting sucks, but we did notice more boats on the lake that weren’t our friends from the village so we knew the time was coming…just not fast enough.

  How does one explain the stupidity of some people? The people we were facing were once an elite force, but years of rolling over untrained drug runners, farmers, peons, and just your everyday-type folks had lulled them into the belief that they were truly a force to be reckoned with (which was so far from the truth).

  Charley’s scouts found their base of operations in a small canyon several miles from our canyon; they had a lot of boats in there plus some vehicles. It looked as if their plan was to hit us at night from two direction- land and water.

  We now knew ‘Who, What, and Where’, we were only lacking the ‘When’. But with our eyes on them it didn’t matter. We were going to hit them; they were bottled up in a small place and didn’t know they were spotted. We could keep the fight away from our people and our homes. Sucks to be them (as Sandy said).

  My plan was simple. We would block the only ways out by land and water. They might make a run for it on foot cross-country which was fine, we could run them down.

  We went in just at daybreak. The little birds hit them with guns ripping their camp apart. After that we closed in on foot. The survivors of the air attack were scattered all over the area, it was like hunting wounded lions in the brush; damn dangerous but interesting. The girls stayed close to me (more to protect my magnet ass than to be protected).

  We approached a brush-choked draw where we knew some were hiding. Rather than get some of our people hurt, we tossed grenades into the tangle. Two of them were thermite and that got the fire roaring. The ones who could run for it did so and we cut them down, their wounded were faced with burning or ending it themselves. They all chose the latter route, and none made it out alive. We could hear our people slugging it out with some of the bad guys and headed that way.

  And, of course I was caught asleep again. One of them jumped up and shot me right in the chest. I think I died right there, I never even heard the girls blow him to tiny bits. I woke up drowning and hearing Sandy say, “Geez, he gets shot more than anybody I ever saw!” May said, “Yeah, Marines are pussies.” I told May when I got up and could breathe I was gonna spank her, and that was a stupid threat. She went to kissing me and saying, “Really? Oh, please daddy!” Sandy was calling her a slut. She replied that at least she wasn’t a cheap slut. Here we are, in the middle of a firefight, I can’t breathe and they wanna have one of their many daily arguments.

  Fox and JJ came running by. I heard Fox ask if I got shot again. JJ just laughed. They never even slowed down. The girls got me up on my feet and steadied me until I was OK. Vests will save you, but it’s like getting kicked by a mule. At least I didn’t have any cracked ribs. We took off after Fox and JJ where all the shooting was going on. We got there just as it ended. Sandy was bitching about missing the best part of the fight because I just had
to get fucking shot…AGAIN. May opened her mouth and I told her to shut up- I didn’t wanna hear it. They both laughed at me.

  Some of the other gang came by and asked if I got shot again. Fuck 'em all. I said I was going home for a nap with my babies and left. I knew Fox and crew would finish off the nasty mess. I hurt and maybe I did have some broken ribs.

  At home Doc came up to the house, making a house call. He woke me up asking if I got shot again. I hate him and them and everybody within a mile of me.

  The good news was no breaks; bad news was a bruise the size of a dinner plate. The really bad news was all the shit I was getting over it. Out of the entire fight with supposedly pro’s I was the worst of the wounded. Fox came by and said from the looks of it they had really partied the night before. We hit them real early in the morning and most died in the little bird runs over the camp. In the hunt for the runners we had all the high ground and grenades so we didn’t have to go down in after them. They were simply out-planned, out-fought, out of luck.

  I was still listening to the girls bitching over missing so much of the fun because of my magnet ass. Where’s the pity? The sympathy? Beth, sweet Beth was my only friend in the world. Even Charley walked in and said, “I hear you got shot…again.” I hate him, too; he laughed and handed me a cold beer. JC came in and crawled up on the bed and jumped on my chest. I won’t say what I thought about that but my scream brought Beth at the run. JC was crying, then Sandy and her partner in crime came, asking what I did to that poor child and what a scumbag I was. Charley laughed, I just tried to breathe.

  I live in a zoo, no! An insane asylum and it’s run by the inmates, who are all evil. It’s like being surrounded by Chucky dolls, or worse. Then it really got bad. Old Woman came into the room and stood at the foot of the bed and said, “I hear you got shot…again.” I didn’t cuss at her, I just said, “Yes I did, but I’m fine. She said she knew that because it’s hard to be really hurt and scream so loud that everybody in the canyon heard me.

  She then handed me a glass with something in it and said, “Drink.” I asked what it was. She said, “Drink.” I looked at Charley who shrugged and said, “You’re on your own, white man.” So I made mistake one- I sniffed it (think old sweaty socks being boiled with the steam piped right into your nose), mistake two was tasting it- that was worse than smelling it. Old Woman said, “Drink it or I’ll call ‘them’ in here to help you.” I hurt too much to fight them off so I held my breath and swigged it right down and almost puked it back up. The old witch said if I did I’d have to drink it again. I would have died before tossing it up.

  She was walking out the door when I swear she said, “Marines are pussies.” Charley burst out laughing, and I just kept gagging back my attempts to puke. At last I was able to gulp some beer to wash out the taste. I asked Charley what it was. He said he didn’t know because he knows better than to get hurt around her for just this reason. I still hate him. He said, “No, you don’t.”

  At my request he helped me up and out into the living room and my big recliner then got us more beer. I had to admit I wasn’t hurting so bad but I think it was the beer not the (whatever that shit was).

  Kid and Blain ran into the room. She looked at me and said, “I heard you got shot…again.” Then she laughed and hugged me, took my beer and took a drink, gagged and said, “I also heard you were a pussy again.” I tried to grab her but she danced away laughing. Blain came over and sat down and said he had checked out my vest and I got hit with a .44 mag bullet. Thank god it was in the trauma plate as anywhere else would have really been bad. Like it wasn’t bad enough, but he was trying to make me feel better.

  The final report was we killed over 125 of them. There may have been more, but we had no idea where they were until the next day when some of the scouts in the back country from our canyon came across about twenty five of them moving our way on foot. They had no idea the battle was lost. Charley sent the scout platoon out with Fox and JJ and they finished the thing.

  The fight in the dry wash was bad, but we got two of them alive and found out the brothers were still over the border waiting news. Since the attack wasn’t supposed to happen for a few more days they had no idea it was over. I told the guys to be ready to head south in twenty-four hours.

  I mapped out the entire area of operation. The Texas folks were already across the border and rolling towards the area where the main bunch of gun thugs were holed up waiting orders to head north. Our people were about the same distance from them, but coming from the north. They were in a pincher or hammer or anvil (whichever creams your Twinkie), either way they were screwed. And my intention was that none would survive. Harsh? Not at all. These types were bad before the EMP and were worse now. Every one would make a better pile of buzzard shit than continuing as an air breathing, walking version of a human.

  Our biggest problem was that we didn’t know for sure just where the bosses were, and they had to die if we had to chase them south until their feet were wet.

  We took the two biggest planes with just the bare minimum gear, since we had it all waiting for us. Myself, the girls (less Beth and Kid- who was pissed beyond words), Charley, Fox and JJ and all the shooters we could get off the ground with. We would be landing on fumes but if anybody could do it was Ralph and Sam. Sandy and May were smiling their secret ‘We know something you don’t know’ smile, and I knew they would get pissed if I didn’t play their game. It took a while to drag it out and I was not happy about it. They said (or assumed) that Kid was working on Blaine right now to hop in the little bird and haul ass south. I had to laugh at that because Blain is a very smart young man.

  My darlings reminded me that Kid had all the weapons she needed to overcome Blain’s common sense. Now I was worried. I spent the entire trip playing the ‘Would he? Nah, he’s too smart to do that…isn’t he?’ game, and in the end I fully expected the damn chopper to whiz past us like a dragonfly on steroids.

  Why anybody assumes I’m in charge of this rolling hairball is beyond me. I’m played like a cheap piano in a low rent whorehouse on Saturday night and the players sit beside me and giggle a lot. I’m in charge of nothing, except maybe when I take a piss…if then. Charley sat with his old Stetson pulled over his eyes, but the smirk on his lips pissed me off. I told him I hated him. He said, “I know”, which just pissed me off more. The girls now had their satisfied smile on their faces. Mission accomplished. Everybody else just looked at me smiling. I hate them all. I showed them. I went to sleep.

  I woke up when one of the engines sputtered. Great, now we all die in a fireball in the desert. I said as much, and Charley said, “No we won’t.” When asked how he knew, he said, “If we are out of fuel there won’t be a fireball.” Wonderful, Mr. Stoic of the Navajo Nation speaks words of comfort and wisdom; I asked if I had hated him yet today, and he said he couldn’t remember. Ralph yelled back that it was nothing- that we had at least 10 minutes of fuel left. I sighed. I woke up the girls and said, “Wake up, we are about to die.” They said to wake them when it happened because they didn’t wanna miss it.

  I heard the radio and then Ralph talking. He said, “Yes, yeah, OK, sure, thanks, see ya.” But he never said a word to us. I hate him too, but I won’t tell him until just before we plow into the earth. I want that to be the last thing he hears, and that makes me feel better.

  Then he tipped the damn wing over and aimed at the ground like he was afraid he would miss finding it. He leveled out and then we touched down as soft as JC’s butt. I watched the scenery rolling past and knew we were on a paved road.

  When we stopped and all got out I saw we were at the head of our convoy that was about to head south because the Texans were in place. We were just in time. Ralph walked over and said, “You had something you wanted to say to me?” I looked at him a moment and said, “How many fucking boxes of crackerjacks did you have to eat to get your pilots license?” He smiled and said, “Yeah, I thought it was that” and walked off to observe his plane getting fueled
up. Gotta love a good pilot but never let them know it.

  Fox came over and said, “Boss, I have an idea.” Now, Fox don’t seem to know it but every time he has a scheme cooked up to keep me out of the way he always says this. And I always say, “Sure, let's hear it”, and the girls always crowd close to hear it because it’s good entertainment for them since they’re not shooting anybody at the moment.

  His grand idea was that maybe he and JJ should take a few shooters and Ralph in the bigger plane and loiter over the area around the coming fight to look for the dust when the boss rats ran for it. I said that was a good idea but why him and JJ when they were more valuable here on the ground? He said because his eyesight was outstanding and that was a plus. I informed him my eyesight was just as good as his and I wasn’t needed on the ground nearly as much as he and JJ. He thought about it for a bit and said, “Well, you’re the boss so we will do it your way” and he walked off.

  Sandy said, “John? You’re not this dumb, are you?” I laughed at her and said, “Baby, I figured him out a long time ago, plus I had also thought of the brothers running for it when the battle starts and I want those three myself. I’m not sharing them with anybody.” She and May looked at each other and both got the cute little frown they get when they fear I may be a step ahead of them. Finally, Sandy said, “And I suppose you plan on dragging us along in the plane to keep us safe?” I said, “Nope, ya’ll go with the ground troops. I can handle these three assholes just fine, and I’ll take Charley with me.”