Avenging Home (14 page)

“What sort of deal?” Dalton asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sarge waved him off. “That’s not important. What is important is that those two booger eaters called me from Darwin, Australia four days later!”

I laughed. “How in the hell did they get there?”

“I still have no damn idea! But I played hell getting them back! I had to use up a lot of hard-earned favors to get their asses returned.”

Dalton was leaning against the bunker rubbing his chin. “But you did get them back.”

“Damn right I did. I take care of my own. Besides, the last place you want to be is in my pocket.”

I glanced down at his trousers and made a distasteful face. “Yeah, I think not. I bet it’s sticky in there.”

Dalton laughed. “And hot and steamy.”

Sarge jammed his fist into the pocket and made an act of rummaging around. “Want some candy, little boys?”

Dalton turned his head and clenched his eyes shut. “Oh, the thought of it!”

“When the guys get back, you sort out how we’re going to deal with those assholes over at that camp. I’ve got other issues to deal with. I’m going to town in the morning. Taking Thad to get with Cecil so they can get to work. Plus, I’ve got to get that generator over to the plant,” I said.

“I’m looking forward to the chance to school some of those fools,” Dalton said. He then produced a tomahawk from someplace and proceeded to swing and swirl the damn thing. I expected any minute he’d bury it in his forehead; but after a few seconds of the show, I realized he knew what he was doing.

“Let me see that thing,” Sarge said, holding his hand out.

Dalton held the instrument up for a moment and inspected it before handing it over to the old man. The hammer marks were clearly evident on the head. The head was finely shaped in the fashion of the Cherokee with a small hammer head on the poll. The heel and toe were mirrors of one another, dropping slightly to increase the face of the bit. Sarge hefted the weapon, checking the balance and weight. He made a couple of swipes in rapid succession and smiled.

“You do some fine work, Dalton,” Sarge said, and offered the hawk to me.

I took it and quickly noticed the excellent balance of the weapon as well. While I wasn’t exactly a hand to hand pro, I still appreciated the quality. “That’s nice. But I don’t know much about using one of these,” I said as the images of my Gerber hatchet sticking upright in Thomas’s head popped into my mind.

Dalton grabbed my hand and held them up while working them to the base of the handle, wrapping his hands around mine. He looked me straight in the eye. “Give it firm purchase here. It knows the rest of the way.”

Dalton reached into the bunker and pulled out a bag. Opening it, he took out two additional hawks and inspected them. He looked at a long-bearded hawk, then at Sarge and smiled.

“I think this one fits you.” Kinda nasty.” And he handed it to the old man.

Sarge held it up and smiled. “I like the way you think, son.”

“It never jams. Never runs out of ammo, and goes off every time you swing it. If it’s a little dull, just push harder,” Dalton said.

Sarge smiled again. “Don’t use your musket if you can kill ‘em with your hatchet.”

Dalton nodded. “And keep it scoured at all times.”

Dalton handed me one much like the first in classic Cherokee style. “Thanks, this is really nice.” I held it up and added, “Hope I never need to use it.”

Dalton smiled. “You know what they say. Violence is never the answer. Except when it is; and then it’s the only answer.”

“Bullshit!” Sarge shouted. “Violence is always the answer. Those blathering idiots that say violence is never the answer, are always the first ones to resort to it. I just don’t give them the chance to compromise their morals. Hit ‘em first, and hit ‘em fucking hard.”

Dalton broke out into a Cheshire Cat smile. Depending on the circumstances, it could be viewed as mischievous or malevolent. Either way, it was creepy. “Now, I like the way you think, Pop.”

Sarge wagged the bearded hawk at Dalton. “You call me Pop again and I’ll compromise your morals.”

Dalton stuck the tip of his finger in his mouth and swiveled his hips. “I didn’t know you cared.”

A crimson line crept out of Sarge’s collar and up over his ears. The two hairy ass caterpillars on his brow merged into one. “You little shit!” Sarge shouted as his foot shot out for Dalton’s backside. Dalton cackled as he leapt out of the way.

“Little? He’s twice the size of you.” I said with a chuckle.

“And he’ll take twice the ass whoopin’ too!”

“I’ll leave you two to play nice with one another,” I said.

That night for dinner, Kate and Mel made a goulash of sorts with the gator and the veggies. But the real highlight was the fresh baked bread slathered in melted butter. It was Mana from heaven. A taste that you fully don’t appreciate until its wanton absence is finally abated. We had a quiet dinner. While everyone enjoyed the meal, there was an overlying weight on everyone’s mood. As soon as all were done with their meal, we filed out to the pond behind Danny’s house.

In an all too familiar custom, we gathered around the freshly disturbed earth. A plot too small to contain the bodies of our two friends bore grim evidence of their fate. As before, Thad placed a cross over their resting place. He’d inscribed their names on it together. A fine carving of a vine intertwined the two names.

Jace and Edie clung close to Danny and Bobbie. Little Bit stood beside Mel holding her hand. It was so quiet, not even the wind blew. After a moment of inner reflection, I broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, my friends. You won’t be forgotten.”

“We’ll carry you in our hearts forever,” Mary said.

Each in turn said their piece. Once everyone had said what they could, we headed back towards the house. Mel was holding one of my hands and Little Bit, the other. Taylor was beside her, walking under her own power. She looked over and asked me, “Dad, why did you say you’re sorry?”

Looking at the ground, I said, “Because I let them down and they died as a result.”

Mel looked at me. “How did you let them down?”

“The fact that they’re dead. Those guys got in here. We’re supposed to be defending ourselves, and they keep showing up and killing people,” I replied despondently.

“That’s not all on your shoulders. Everyone here is part of it. You can’t blame yourself,” Mel said.

I wanted to reply. To ask how many more of us would die before we got it under control. But feeling Little Bit’s small hand in my own, brought my mind around, and I thought better of it. I didn’t want to scare her or cause her to lose sleep with nightmares of what may never come. Far too young was she to burden her heart with such.

Chapter 6

I
took the late shift at the bunker with Aric. I wanted to be awake at midnight for the radio transmissions that should be on the air. Aric said he just wanted some time away from all those women. Certainly couldn’t blame him for that. I took the little radio out and extended the antenna. After tossing the little wire extension up into the small oak tree, I connected it to the radio.

“What’s with that?” Aric asked.

“I picked up a radio transmission the other night. And we should be able to pick one up tonight.”

“What’d you hear? Was it local?”

Shaking my head, “Wasn’t local. I think they were in Idaho. And what they had to say wasn’t too comforting.”

“Like what?” Aric asked.

I took a minute to explain what I’d heard, and we talked about the possibilities. None of them was very good. But I reminded him I’d only heard it once, and there was no way to confirm any of it. It could all be a hoax or psyop by the feds or some other unknown entity. Then again, it could be correct.

“What time does it come on?” He asked.

Looking at my watch, “In about half an hour.” But just in case, I turned the radio on and lowered the volume on the static. “So how are things with you and Fred?”

He smiled. “It’s good. She’s a really great gal.”

I leaned over the top of the bunker, “That’s terrific. I’m happy for both of you.”

He let out a long breath. “I just hope someday we can settle down in a little place of our own.” He was staring off into the darkness. “Not like before, ya know. Just a small place and a simple life. I’d like some livestock and a garden. A big garden. I’d like to look out my window and see Fred kneeling in the garden with our little girl filling a basket with the bounty of the land.”

I chuckled. “Nostalgic much?”

He smiled lightly, a little embarrassed. “It just appeals to me, you know. Before, I was all about a big house, expensive cars and living what we all thought was the good life.” Looking over, he added, “I’ve learned what’s really important.”

“I guess we’ve all learned a little something,” I said.

I picked up the NVG and scanned the road and the areas around and behind us. There was nothing to see, fortunately, so I laid them down and checked my watch. I was eager to hear the radio come to life.

“How’s Jess doing? You guys spend so much time together I hardly ever see her.”

His head wobbled back and forth. “She’s good. I mean, I think she want’s someone in her life, you know.”

With a smile, I said, “I guess it is hard.” I stood up. “But there are some options around here.” I couldn’t help myself, and laughed at the thought.

Aric snickered. “Yeah, we’ve talked about it. If you could mash Ted and Mike together, it’d be the perfect guy for her. Mike is young, and she thinks he’s good looking. But Ted is far more mature and has a better temperament.”

Now I laughed. “Ted is more mature, huh? I guess compared to Mike a two year old is more mature.”

“Exactly.”

Just then, the static on the radio dropped out as a transmitter came on the air somewhere out there. Aric and I both focused intently on the radio.

A man’s voice came over the radio. It was crystal clear and loud. I actually turned the volume down slightly.

You’re listening John Jacob Schmidt on the Radio Free Redoubt, broadcasting to all of you in occupied territory as well as those outside the wire. Bringing you the news you need in these uncertain times. Good evening, patriots. We’re happy to report to you tonight that the Marine Corps has secured the Hartsfield-Jackson airport in Atlanta. In intense fighting, the Marines pushed aside the resistance. One Marine claiming, ‘it was a slaughter. We killed them by the dozens.’ With the airfield now in their hands, the Air Force has begun airlifting in reinforcements, equipment and much-needed supplies for the people of Atlanta. Those brave Marines deserve our appreciation and prayers.

On a sad note, we’ve received word that Baltimore is burning. The reports claim it looks as if the entire city is ablaze in a fire storm. Refugees are said to stretch for miles, moving north and south on I-95 as well as west on I-70. Conditions are said to be horrific. The source of the fire is currently debated, with the Federal troops claiming the military started it by bombing the city. Brigadier General Dawson claims that operatives of the Federal forces started the fire as an act of retribution for an ambush that resulted in the death of several troopers.

On the west coast, conditions in San Francisco are deteriorating rapidly. As the city pulled together in the initial aftermath of the event, that solidarity has become fractured in recent weeks as resources dwindle. The city has been broken up into distinct districts, and the roads blocked and movement heavily restricted according to the neighborhood you live in. There are unconfirmed reports of hundreds of dead in street fighting.

In the southwest, the war with Mexico is heating up.

Hearing that, I looked at Aric. “I wondered what they were up to. I knew they’d try to take advantage of the situation.”

As the broadcast continued, I took a Write in the Rain notebook from my pocket. I was surely going to miss those things when I used the last one. I wanted to be ready for the message this time. While listening, I was processing what I’d heard. I worked for a time at the BWI airport, and spent some time in Baltimore. I was imagining that city on fire.

What I remembered of Baltimore was that it was a crowded city. I’m sure there were a lot fewer people now, but still quite a crowd. The thought of being caught in a place like that was horrible to me, terrifying. I’d been fortunate about where I was when things went down. I could have just as easily been in Atlanta.

As Mexican nationals continue to stream south, American citizens are prevented from crossing the border. There are reports of hundreds shot dead trying to cross the border to the south. The Texas National Guard as well as elements of the Third Armored Cavalry Regiment, repulsed an attempted cross-border foray by Mexican troops. Even in their weakened state, the Texans were far more than the Mexicans could handle. However, the Mexicans have gained ground in southern California, New Mexico and Arizona. In all but California, their advance has been checked through the judicious use of air strikes by Air Force, Marine and Army aviators. Again, it cannot be said enough. The men and women of our armed forces deserve our sincerest appreciation and prayers. Keep up the good fight!

On the international front, the UN Security Council is currently debating the resolution to send in peacekeepers. From what we’re hearing here in the Redoubt, there would appear to be considerable pressure on the UN to send in troops. Though the ambassador from the UK claims those urging the use of force are in reality asking for permission to invade. The Department of Defense has made its position very clear. Any vessels attempting to reach the shores of the US will be met with force. In unequivocal terms, they were told they’d be sent to the bottom of the sea. We can only hope cooler heads prevail. God bless the United States of America.

And with that the transmission ended. The message I was expecting never happened. I waited, expecting any minute to hear it. After a couple of minutes, I turned the radio off.

“Holy hell,” Aric said.

“No shit. Can you imagine a city like Baltimore burning?”

He looked at me. “Can you imagine the Mexicans shooting Americans? I mean, you remember all that shit their government did? They encouraged their people to come over here! Remember how those illegals were always portrayed as poor little victims? That Asshole-in-Chief tied the hands of the Border Patrol, and those pricks in the Justice Department wouldn’t prosecute them. Hell, they had a standing policy to let them go when they were caught!”

“Oh, I remember. And look how they act when the shoe’s on the other foot. Wonder where all those whiney liberals are now. They were so against guns. Makes me wonder how many of them had wished they had one just before they died.”

Aric snorted. “Shit. A lot of them had guns pretty damn quick. Hell, I bet a bunch of them already had them!”

Looking down my nose, I said, “Only to protect themselves from people like us of course.”

“Yeah, just like politicians surrounded by armed security telling us we couldn’t have guns. It drove me nuts.”

I laughed. “I find your attitude very interesting considering where you came from. I mean, you were part of the machine. How did you reconcile your personal views with what you were doing?” I could tell the question hurt him, but I was genuinely curious about it.

Aric spun around and leaned against the bunker. Crossing his arms, he let out a breath. “It wasn’t easy.” He looked directly at me. “But I fell into a position I didn’t want to be in. I had to survive and I wasn’t prepared for what happened. I should have been. I should have been prepping all along. But I didn’t. Like I said, I was hung up on the idea of the good life and chasing what we were always told was the American Dream. But it was all bullshit. That whole consumer-driven idea was only the dream of bankers. Not us. “

Nodding, I said, “You’re right about that. That’s why I never went into debt. Not that there weren’t things I wanted or needed. I just avoided the use of credit. I figured if I couldn’t pay cash for it, I didn’t need it. The only loans I had were the house and my truck payment. Neither of which I now have. So what’s the point? I like the good life. I like a nice house and air conditioning. Vacations and going out to eat. But in the end, those are all just distractions from the things that really matter. The things that preserve life.”

He nodded. “I know. So I got caught with my pants around my ankles. I had to do something. And when the DHS offered me a spot, I took it. But it was wrong, and I knew it. I compromised my morals by doing what I was told. I told myself it was for the best, and these people needed our help whether they wanted it or not.”

I grunted. “The old line of,
we know what’s best for the people.”

“Yeah, exactly! That’s really how they think. They look at us like cattle; and it goes all the way to the top. People for labor were accounted for just like fuel. They were seen as a consumable commodity.”

“In the Before, we were seen as ATMs. Now, just a strong back. What you’re saying reminds me of the way the Nazis dealt with the Jews and others they considered undesirable. One of the first steps of this process is to dehumanize people. If you can get folks to view others as less than human, then it’s much easier to abuse them.”

He pointed at me, wagging his finger. “You know, that’s exactly what they are doing now. They call anyone with an independent streak or patriotic views Bubbas or Rednecks. They’re very, what’s the word, vehement in their hate for them.”

I smiled. “For me. And now for you. What do they call the rest of the people?”

“Useful Slugs, for those that are capable of working. They look at them as some kind of investment. What’s the least we can put into them to get what we need out of them. And for those that aren’t able to work or bring some skill to the table, they’re just called Eaters. They’re seen as a drain, no return on the investment.”

“See, just what I was saying. And it’ll get worse before it gets better.”

Aric rubbed his chin. “Of course those aren’t the official terms. I’m trying to remember them. I think there was Able Bodied Manual, Semi-Skilled and Skilled. Then there was something like Infirm. And for the real undesirables, it was Radical with several levels running from Potential to Extreme. And you know what’s really bad? Nearly all of them had standing KOS, Kill On Site orders.”

That was a shock? I asked. “Really? Kill on site?”

Aric nodded. “Yeah. When we showed up, if anyone started mouthing off about Constitutional Rights or anything along those lines, they would pop them right there in front of the rest. It usually ended any debate, and most fell in line. But it didn’t always go that way. There were some hellacious gun fights, and the DHS didn’t always win.”

I saw an opportunity and took it.

“And what did you do in such situations?”

He quickly shook his head. “Oh, I was never involved in any of that. I was on a team that scavenged. Of course, to the government everything is theirs and they have the right to take it. That’s what bothers me. That’s what I lose sleep over. Having participated in taking people’s property. Their food, weapons and even clothes.” He stopped talking and looked at the ground as he pushed the dirt around with the toe of his boot. “The worst one was when we found a family that was pretty prepared. They really had it together. We took everything from them. They had a small baby and this guy had done the math and stored enough diapers in the proper sizes to get his kid through until he was potty trained.” Aric looked at me. “We took it all. They left him one box of diapers. We took all the formula, everything.”

Shaking my head, I asked, “What was their rationale? Why would they take something like diapers from someone?”

“They took it because they wouldn’t come into the camp. It was to punish them. I knew the guy was a prepper and very patriotic, but he played it cool and didn’t say anything. So we just took everything. He has no idea how close to death his family was.”

“Or maybe he did, and that’s why he didn’t say anything,” I replied.

“Yeah, probably. But they took it all to the camp. I mean, we needed it there too. There were lots of kids to take care of and a lot of people were helped, and that’s what I kept telling myself. That’s how I justified it.”

“Just like how the Jews had to surrender their property to the State. It’s the same thing. Or maybe they were fans of Marx, you know. From each according to his ability, to each according to his need,” I said.

Aric nodded. “I know that now.”

We spent the rest of the night in silence. I was lost in thoughts of what was going in. Sure, the news in Baltimore and Arizona was bad, but it didn’t have any impact on me or my family. But the thought of Russian or Chinese troops showing up, that would certainly have an impact on us. Hell, on everyone in the country. Because I’m quite sure that, contrary to their stated goals of wanting
help us in our time of need,
it’s just as much bullshit as I think it is.

The fact they were so eager is disturbing. It’s like they’ve been waiting for the chance. Now that they think we’re weakened, they’re going to pounce. But I have a feeling they underestimate us. The Russians know full well what a determined people can do. They crushed the Germans in Stalingrad with sheer numbers. So when you consider private ownership of guns was not possible there, one can only imagine what the people of this nation would be capable of.

I was relieved by Dalton and Danny around two in the morning. I needed a little sleep before taking on the task of moving the generator, among other things. But it was a restless sleep. I kept waking up with images of Russian or Chinese troops kicking in the door of my house and dragging my family out of the house. Not like they would. I’m sure they’d have bigger issues to deal with. We’re no more than a blip in the big picture.

However, the thoughts were there, and I found myself several times watching Mel sleep. Sometime around five AM, I decided it wasn’t worth it anymore. I got dressed and went out to the kitchen for some tea. I had work to do today, and I may as well get ready for it. After pouring a cup of tea, I nosed around in the cupboards. I was curious how much more sugar we had. I found the container Mel kept it in. It was full. So I went looking for the bucket. I found it in one of the lower cabinets and pulled it out. I could tell just from the weight it was too light. Pulling the top off proved my fear. It was less than half full. Oh, the thought of not having tea once again! But it wasn’t like I could run to the store and buy a bag. Oh well, it is what it is.