The Fall of America: Premonition of Death (13 page)

"Stop," I ordered and my prisoner stood still. I saw Alisa was on the stretcher and the tourniquet seemed to be working.

Tom stood and said, "The bleeding has stopped, but we need to get her to medical help as quickly as we can. If the tourniquet stays on too long, she'll lose the leg."

I gave an ill-felt smile and said, "Load her in the Stryker and we'll drive to Top, or as far as we can get with the fuel in this thing." Turning to the prisoner, I asked, "How much fuel in the vehicle?"

"I guess you'll need to see for yourself, won't ya?"

I swung my shotgun hard and felt the barrel take him along side of his head. He fell to the ground unmoving. I handed my weapon to Tom and then pulled the prisoner inside the Stryker and taped his legs together. I considered taping his mouth too, but changed my mind for no real reason. I searched him thoroughly and discovered a small .38-caliber pistol, a sheath knife, two grenades in his coat pocket, and a pig-sticker on a cord around his neck. I took these and placed them in my coat pockets.

I saw he was a youngster of maybe 25, close to six feet tall, and like most of us he was thinner than he should have been. He wore his blond hair cropped close to his scalp and his face was cleanly shaven, showing a scar that ran from his left ear to his lips. He also wore glasses, which I removed and placed in my pack. I started to walk away, but as an afterthought, I squatted and removed his boots. I then threw them into the woods.
He may run away, but by God he'll run slowly barefoot,
I thought.

Vicki and Tom entered with the litter and placed her on the left side against the wall. Tom pulled the safety straps over the litter and then connected them. As soon as he'd tightened them I asked, "Is the machine gun in good shape?"

"Yep, and there is a box of ammo with the gun and some more against the other wall here."

"I'm going to get it, and on the way back you can ride shotgun for me."

Tom chuckled and replied, "I hope you do better this trip than you did the last. If I remember correctly you got us blown up!"

"We weren't blown up, but it was pretty close," I replied and then made my way to the gun. A mounting bracket was in place on top of the Stryker, so when I returned it was a simple process to install the gun, wipe the fresh blood off, and load a new belt of ammo.

I climbed down from the gun, turned to Vickie and said, "If the prisoner so much as passes gas, kill 'em. Tom will be keeping watch from above, while I drive, so it's up to you to keep us safe."

Vickie pulled her pistol and said, "You drive, and let me take care of our boy."

A few minutes later I cranked the engine, noticed an almost full tank of fuel, and off we went. While I knew the top speed advertised for the vehicle was 62MPH, I wanted to move much slower than that, so I kept it around 20MPH.
If I keep the speed down, I'll get more miles per gallon of fuel and not likely drive into an ambush either. I don't need to be racing down a road I don't know or have any idea who I'll run into,
I thought as I enjoyed the ride.

Tom was suddenly behind me and said, "Stay on this dirt road for close to 20 miles, then turn off on a dirt road to the right. The map says it's county road 380. We go down that a couple of miles and come to a creek. The cave should be up on the left."

"Got it," I replied.

"I'm moving back to the gun."

The morning was clear with no clouds to be seen and the road was in fair shape, with few ruts or potholes. I knew no one had worked on it for years, but it might mean the difference between Alisa living and dying. As I drove, I constantly scanned the area through my viewing ports, which were fairly limited in my opinion.
Can't see much using these damned ports,
I thought.

Mile after mile was covered quickly and an hour later, as I slowed down to turn on county road 380, I heard a loud explosion, and then Tom opened up with the machine gun. My man was good, firing short bursts to avoid burning the barrel. Dust and debris flew by my viewing ports, and I heard a few loud pings as small arms fire struck the vehicle. I looked out of the ports, but saw no one.

The bastards missed, this time
, I thought and goosed the vehicle to increase our speed. I knew if anyone ambushing us had anything heavier than small arms, we were dead meat.

Two more explosions were heard, our machine gun kept a steady and well spaced beat, so I made a split-second decision.

CHAPTER 13

I
slowed down to almost a crawl, turned to the left and entered the woods. Once in the forest, I kept my speed low, to avoid trees and boulders, but also so I could watch for the bad guys. Almost instantly our gun on top went quiet.

I'd just dodged a huge pine tree when I heard Tom say, "Those boys back there weren't expecting a Stryker to come down on 'em. I think we surprised the living shit right out of most of them. I don't see any damage to the vehicle and everyone inside is safe."

"Do you think Top is safe? If not, then this trip might be a waste of time."

Tom laughed and then replied, "Didn't you see the vehicles hidden in the trees back there? Hell, I'll bet over two hundred men shot at us, but with your piss-poor driving and weaving, we only took a few rounds. I think it was the convoy we spotted earlier."

"That means one of two things. One, they've attempted to enter the cave and weren't able to do the job or two, they've not even tried yet." At this point we hit a bad rut or narrow ditch, because I bounced all over the place and Tom cursed.

"I think it'd be smart if we kept moving and approached the cave from the opposite side. They may have placed some ambushes along the road, but right now I need to get back to the gun."

"Roger that, so I'll arrive at the cave on the west side and all should go well," I said, but thought,
I hope they don't have a bunch of men near the cave or we're dead meat.

Tom reappeared, leaned over my shoulder and said, "Don't get too close to the cave, because Top might just shoot our asses. Stop short, maybe a 100 yards and we'll walk the rest of the way."

"I'd not given that much thought, except with Alisa hurt like she is, let me stop the Stryker and then one of us can move to the cave with the prisoner. We have no idea if someone is watching the place or what."

"I'll stay with Alisa, but hurry, because I don't like having the tourniquet on that leg very long."

"Get back to the gun, we'll be where I intend to stop in a few minutes. Once I'm out with my boy, keep me covered as I head to the cave."

"Roger that, but relax, because I don't think they've found the cave yet. If they had, they'd be gathered up closer to the place."

He moved from my side and I drove just a little faster. I knew if the blood flow to her leg was stopped for too long, the leg would be lost. That thought scared me more than just a little, for two reasons. I wasn't sure any of us knew how to properly remove a leg or had the necessary surgical equipment, and I'd yet to see anyone alive since the fall with a missing limb.

Ten minutes later, I stopped on the outside edge of a grove of tall and ancient oaks. When I moved from the drivers seat to the interior of the vehicle, I saw our prisoner glare at me, but he wisely kept his mouth closed.

Turning to Vickie, I said, "I'm taking the prisoner and moving for the cave. I want you to unass this thing and move over into the trees. Stay close to here, but help cover me as I take our boy to meet Top."

I squatted by the prisoner and pulled a rope from my pack. Tying a slipknot in the end, I placed it over his head. I then cut the tape to his legs and helped him stand. I finally let the rear ramp down and warned, "Walk in front of me and go where I tell you to go. You zig when you should zag, and I'll blow you apart with this .44 magnum I have. Do you understand me?"

"Ya, I hear ya."

"Start walking straight for about a hundred yards. I'll tell you when to turn."

We were within twenty yards of the cave entrance when I heard an order, "Stop, that's close enough!"

We stopped.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"My name's John, and this bastard is the prisoner Top requested I get for him."

"Stay, the both of you, until I can get to your position."

As I waited, I watched my prisoner opening and closing his hands, which to me meant he was growing afraid and that was good. If Top had an intelligence branch, they'd soon know all this man knew, so if he had half a brain he'd spill the beans right off.

"Okay, I'm behind you. Move to the closed door and on the right, up high, you'll see a red button. I want you to push that button and then step back."

As we moved I thought, I should have blindfolded our prisoner, but other than our walk to the cave, he didn't see much. It's unlikely, if he escapes, he'll even know which direction to run.

At the entrance I pushed the button and stepped back.

The door moved and began to open. I heard the guard at my back command, "Enter and do the job slowly."

We entered and Top looked up from where he sat on a wooden box. He grinned and said, "Hank, he's okay and one of us. Go finish your guard, but you did the right thing."

Dolly growled at the man until I said, "Dolly, hush."

"Howdy, Top, I brought you the prisoner you wanted."

"Good God, son, you ain't the only one left are you?"

"No, the others are near a Stryker we borrowed for a while. One of the women has a serious leg injury."

"Jones, take the prisoner and form a detail of three others. Once you're ready to go, take the man to Colonel Parker and ask him to send me a full report."

"Brown, Light, and Carrier, you come with me."

I turned my prisoner over to Thompson and then asked, "Can you loan me a few men to return to the Stryker? I'd like to get our wounded in here as soon as possible. There was a bleeding problem and Tom had to use a tourniquet."

"Smith, you and James come with me. We won't need any packs, just web gear and rifles."

I turned to Dolly and commanded, "Dolly, go to Sandra." I smiled as she made her way to my wife.

Minutes later we arrived at the vehicle with Tom still guarding with the machine gun. Vickie was in a prone position near a huge oak. Alisa looked pale and her breathing was shallow and weak.

Top immediately took charge, "Take everything of value from his vehicle, then rig it with a booby-trap. Pull the radios, cushions, and I mean anything we might need. James, I want this rigged so it explodes as soon as it starts. Smith, grab the far end of the stretcher and I'll get this end. We need to get this young woman back to the medics. Let's move, people!"

*****

Hours later, as Sandra and two other medical types worked on Alisa, I sat against an empty crate and ate my first MRE meal of the day. Tom was beside me, eating as well, but he had little appetite.

"You need to eat," I said.

He shook his head and said, "I'm more tired than hungry right now. After being up all night before I blew the Claymore, it's taking a toll on my ass."

"Well, at least eat the entree and then get some sleep. If the bad guys blow the door off this place, you might not get to eat again for a long time."

"I've thought of that, but if I don't get some sleep, I'll fall on my ass if we have to escape and evade from this joint anyway." He placed his meal in the dirt beside him.

"Get some rest."

As he moved to the sleeping area, I saw Sandra approaching me as she wiped blood from her fingers with a towel. Hospital gloves were now a thing of the past and no one used them, because no one had them.

She stood in front of me and said, "If I remember correctly, your blood type is 0 negative, right?"

"Yep and it's fairly rare compared to the other blood types. Why?"

"I need some blood from you, because if we don't get some fresh blood into Alisa she'll be dead by morning."

"How are you going to do this? I mean, do you have the equipment to give her my blood?"

"We have the necessary needles and surgical tubing, but you're the only one we know of with the right blood type."

I stood, gave her a goofy grin and replied, "You know I'll do it and be glad to help, if it'll make a difference. But, why is my blood so rare?"

"Less than 7% of Americans have 0 negative, so it's pretty damned rare, so you're likely the only one here besides her that has this blood type. Worldwide, the percentage depends on the ethnic group or race, but it's still damned hard to find. Now, if you'll come with me, we'll try our best to save this young woman's life."

I could remember giving blood before the fall of our nation, and the civilians would be working up a sweat as they waited for the needle. Most military folks, active duty or veterans, never seemed to fear the needle much. I guess after a hitch in the service, you've had so many shots and other needles in you, it no longer scares you.
I hope my giving blood helps,
I thought as I followed Sandra.

A little later, as Sandra taped a piece of gauze pad over my 'wound,' I said, "What are her chances now that you have the blood?"

Her face grew serious and she lowered her eyes before she replied. "Not real good. If we have to remove the leg, she'll die on us. We just don't have enough blood for surgery and I'm sure she'd die of blood loss and shock."

"Take some more of mine, then."

"I already took a pint and that's all you can safely give. If we had a way to give your plasma back to you, then you could give more. We don't have the equipment to return your plasma, so we can't do more than what we just did for her." She replied, and then leaned over and kissed me. I felt my desire start to flame, but she pulled away from me and smiled.

"I need to get you alone," I whispered with a big grin.

She grinned right back and said, "Won't happen G.I., not with all these folks around and we can't leave the cave, especially with all the unfriendly people out there."

"I love you."

"I love you too, but there is a time and place for everything. Now, go drink some water and eat a bite. Then, get your tired ass to bed, because you're about to fall over."

I slowly stood, felt a little weak, more than likely from being tired than giving blood, and made my way to where Tom lay. In a few minutes I entered the deep void of sleep.

*****

I awoke feeling sore and irritated, with a slight headache. I stood and made my way to a partitioned area we used as a toilet. Top had some of the Air Force Prime Beef civil engineers rig up some toilets that worked pretty good. They were constructed from 55 gallon drums cut in half with a sheet of plywood on top. A circle had been cut from the wood if a person had some serious business to attend to, but for a pee, we had a funnel made from aluminum that was mounted on a metal tube that carried the urine into the drum. Once a day, someone emptied the drum using a two wheeled dolly.

I finished my morning toilet and walked toward Top, who I noted was bent over a topographical map, and Willy Williams stood beside him. As I neared, I noticed blood all over the left leg of the jeans Willy wore.

"...and right about there is where they ambushed us, Top."

"That's right where John and Tom ran the bullet gauntlet in the Stryker, right?" Top met my eyes.

I looked the map over and saw Willy's index finger at the turn off from the main road to county road 380, so I said, "Yep, right where the dirt county road meets the main macadam road. I didn't see shit driving, but Tom told me he'd seen at least 20 vehicles parked in the woods as we sped through the place."

"We didn't see any vehicles at all, so I suspect they've moved on, but they had us in a perfect L shaped ambush, or would have, until one of their men fired early."

"Did you charge their positions like you're suppose to do?" Top asked.

"No, because there were only ten of us to start with, and I lost half my men right off the bat. Four died instantly and the other died later, but we pulled back and then moved deeper into the woods. That was the day after we left y'all, John."

Top scratched his chin and then asked, "How are the other four men?"

"Ralph the radio operator and Butler had no injuries at all, while Mike took a grenade fragment in the left arm, but it was more of a graze than a real wound. In Iraq we'd say he got an easy purple heart. Our medic, Wilcox, is the one who bled to death."

"And you?" I asked looking at his leg.

"I'm fine, and the blood isn't mine. Our wounded man had a severe injury to his neck, and we couldn't get the bleeding to stop. He'd taken a bullet to his left carotid artery and there was simply nothing we could do for him in the field, so basically he bled out. I think he took the neck injury as we were un-assing the area of operations, haulin' ass actually, and the original wound to his arm was small."

Top was quiet for a minute and then said, "John, I want you and Tom to join Willy's team. We have other Green Berets and SEALS, but they're busy right now and on the other side of where I need you guys. And, John, take your wife along too, as the medic."

"Well, I don't know," I started in a serious voice and then continued, "if I like the idea. Does it mean I have to wear one of those silly girl scout beanies?" I broke out laughing.

Everyone laughed and once we sobered up, Willy said, "I think you have what it takes to earn a green beret, but remember, we only take five out of a hundred."

I laughed and replied, "Next you'll be singing the Ballad of the Green Berets, by Barry Sadler."

Willy laughed and said, "I know the words!"

Top cleared his throat and said, "Okay guys, let's get back to the work at hand. Willy, I want you to take your group and do a recon on the area. Sneak and peak is all, and avoid any enemy contact if you can. It'll give me some intelligence and allow your new members to break into the unit. John, take your German Shepherd with you, because I don't think she'll listen to any of us."

"She'd listen to you, but I think she'd actually be an asset for our small group. My dad told me of dog handlers in Vietnam and I watched 'em in Iraq. They saved a lot of lives."

Top grinned and said, "Yep, I know all of that, but the main reason I want her to go with you is because she doesn't eat when you're gone. She sits by the entrance like a dog waiting for a small kid to get off a school bus. Besides, I think she needs a walk in the sun."

Willy laughed and said, "That's what my uncle called an easy mission in World War Two, a walk in the sun."

"Did he experience a lot of those walks?" I asked.