TEOTWAWKI: Beacon's Story (17 page)

Maggie wasn't willing to risk all her best shooters and started to object. Beacon cut her off.

"The Settlement needs its next generation of mountain men and Buck is one of the best candidates I've seen, but he's going to be off his feet for a few weeks. He and the other teens can listen to Old Bill's stories; that's the way I learned in the beginning. Old Bill is the best teacher we've got; besides I wouldn't take Gail out with me if I didn't think it was safe."

Both Maggie and Gail seemed startled by that admission but Beacon pressed on.

"The people at the castle know me, they'll be thankful for the warning and I'll see what things we can trade with them."

They traveled light and fast with Beacon ranging ahead setting snares to be collected each afternoon. Beacon didn't want to attract attention by firing their guns at game which is why he passed up several deer. Jackie seemed to look up to Gale as an older sister.

Once one of the caches had been dug up and loaded on the horses the main party started back to the Settlement this time with Beacon's horse loaded with supplies instead of him. Taking only his scoped Ruger 10/22, a surplus M1949 Mountain sleeping bag from the cache and some food in a small camo backpack he planned to travel light and fast.

The shortcut he planed to take would cut across two densely wooded steep sided mountain valleys as he cut around the base of the snow capped mountain. He knew at least the first valley to be crisscrossed was filled with fallen timber making horse travel virtually impossible. He had to assume the second valley would be littered with downed trees as well.

The detours he'd have to make to take a horse through that territory would eat up any time that might be saved by riding it. Also even at a walk a horse made more noise on rocky ground than his moccasins. More to the point, a shod horse left tracks even on solid rock.

He cold camped investing the time that would have been wasted collecting wood, making fires and cooking food in walking a little further each day. By getting up before dawn and traveling till dark his moccasins cut a quick, silent, nearly trackless trail.

Cutting across a relatively flat area of the second valley floor he came across the river the Blue Head woman had spoken of and the skeleton of a violently aborted attempt at the rebirth of civilization.

If there'd been still living souls about he'd have heard the buzz of people, seen or smelled the smoke of them and their fires. He'd have noted the hundred other little signs that people inevitably left about when they occupied an area for any length of time.

So he almost stepped into the ruins before realizing what he'd stumbled upon. The fires had burned the paint off of the vehicles allowing the metal to rust to a golden brown. The Blowup had been a universal leveler; Volkswagens, BMW's and F-150's were intermingled with Chevys and Cadillacs.

Whoever the refugees had been they hadn't even arranged the vehicles in a defensive circle, just parked on both sides of an old logging road next to the small river. Perhaps they'd thought the remoteness would hide them until order was restored.

There were signs that the camp had been occupied for a few days; awnings had been extended from RV's, rock campfire rings built and tents pitched. He could see pots, pans, skillets and skulls scattered among the two columns of vehicles. The booty left behind showed the land pirates hadn't been interested in rebuilding civilization just pillaging for food, weapons and women.

Whatever had happened must have occurred shortly after The Blowup. The next day Beacon found Colonel Darkin's rogue unit.

Howitzer

Beacon hunched down in the shade under the bottom branches of a large pine tree on a hillside while he waited for the rogue reservists to haul the cannon to him.

He'd deliberately cut low around the mountainside to be sure he'd find their trail. It hadn't been hard, a blind man could have found the sign they'd left. Crushed trees and brush, campfire pits and trash stood out like signposts. Once he'd found their trail it was easy to go back up on the ridgeline to get ahead of them and wait.

While his eyes watched the valley his thoughts drifted to a warm summer night before The Blowup when he'd debated the pros and cons of bugging in versus bugging out with Prepper Pete over their mutual back fence.

Beacon was the only person beside Pete, his wife and their two sons who knew that Pete's house had a year's supply of canned food for the four of them stored in their garage and basement. Regular store bought canned food, stored in a cool dry place, is good for fifty years or more past the expiration dates printed on the cans so Pete hadn't bothered buying expensive freeze dried, vacuum and nitrogen packed foods except for grains, pastas and specialty items like candy he couldn't find in a can.

Having spent his money on their house Pete couldn't afford to buy up the surrounding farmland so a major housing development, and Beacon, had moved in next door.

Pete claimed his two story concrete walled home with brick facing, so it wouldn't look like the fortress that it was, would be sufficient to hold off marauders with small arms which was all he expected. Metal rafters under a tile roof topped off the Molotov cocktail proof building combining with loopholed metal shutters to make the place invulnerable for the duration of any SHTF scenario in his opinion.

Beacon pointed out that although bazookas were currently out of fashion, people had been making petards since the sixteenth century and anyone who could pour enough gunpowder into a tin can could make a weapon capable of breaching his front door.

"If they do they'll be hoist by their own petard so to speak," Pete said, "behind that front door is a hallway with a loophole in the wall at the end, and if they somehow get to the end of the hallway they'll find a recessed door on the side every bit as strong as the one they just blasted through and, he smiled, "another loophole behind them when they knock on the door."

"But, Pete, wouldn't that be considered murder after TSHTF and order is restored?"

"Nope, self-defense, they had to blast their way in to get shot." Then Pete told Beacon about a fellow prepper in a regular house who couldn't afford the preparations Pete and his family were making.

"The guy's got burglar bars on all his windows and iron gates on the doors but the gate on the front door leading into a hallway is just weak enough that someone willing to make a little effort, and noise, could break in. That'll channel the marauders to one point so it'll be less likely he'll have to defend in all directions at once."

"Too risky," said Beacon, "but y'all can use my back yard for your garden if the SHTF turns out to be TEOTWAWKI."

Beacon's thoughts came back to the present as the cannon came into view in the valley below. Sneaking along the hillside to where he thought he'd get a better view Beacon made a mistake.

As he weaved between trees so as not to skyline himself while working his way diagonally up to a hillcrest he looked over a large boulder and was surprised to see a soldier looking back at him from about a hundred yards away.

The scouting party in Woodland camouflage had stopped to rest and the guy just happened to be seated in a clearing looking up the hillside when Beacon's head popped over the top of the boulder. With only bush behind him to break up his outline Beacon felt exposed.

Both men froze. Beacon knew what he was looking at, the soldier and several of his companions were in plain view. But only Beacon's head was showing above the rock.

The soldier stood up to get a better look. Resisting the urge to duck, which would have created movement that would have reinforced the soldier's suspicion that someone was up there, Beacon slowly lowered his chin to the rock leaving only the top of his MultiCam boonie hat showing with a tiny gap under the hat's brim for him to look out over the rock to see what the soldier did next.

Stepping forward the soldier said something to one of the others who handed him some large military binoculars. Beacon began sliding backwards. His MultiCam hat slowly disappeared from view as the soldier struggled to adjust the binoculars.

By the time he got the binoculars focused Beacon was behind a small Christmas tree sized pine. Peeking through the boughs Beacon saw the soldier with the binoculars, pick up his M16 and start climbing up the hill.

By hiding behind bushes, Beacon could crawl back over the ridge but there were few trees or bushes on the other side. There was no way he'd be able to get to concealment big or thick enough to defeat those binoculars before the soldier reached the crest.

There was one large lone pine about ninety feet down the slope. If he could stand sideways behind its trunk he might escape detection. In any case the thick trunk would provide cover as well as concealment if the encounter turned into a gunfight.

When the rogue soldier reached the top of the ridge Beacon was standing at attention behind the pine with his rifle at his side. He couldn't be sure the tree completely hid him and he'd have to adjust his position to keep the tree between them if the man moved along the ridge so he was listening intently.

Footsteps at the ridgeline, then silence. Beacon held his breath. Then a voice yelled something unintelligible from the other side of the ridge. The guy nearby yelled back, "No, nothing."

Another long pause then the voice on the other side of the ridge yelled again. The soldier with the binoculars yelled back, "OK, OK I'm coming."

Something in his voice didn't ring true with Beacon's sixth sense. It was too loud and didn't sound like a subordinate talking to a superior. He listened but didn't move.

Evidently the soldier was doing the same because Beacon didn't hear any footsteps going back over the ridge. The two men stood like statues for minutes that seemed like hours.

Finally the voice from the next valley called out again. Then Beacon heard footstep as the guy's boots crossed over and descended the other side of the ridge.

Still Beacon waited another ten minutes before peeking around the tree. The guy with the binoculars was gone and Beacon's plan was intact. Crawling back up over the ridgeline a hundred meters from where his plan had almost met its doom Beacon watched from beneath a bush as the patrol of Woodland camouflage clad men continued on up the valley.

His confidence shaken Beacon found an observation point higher on another hill with a bushy draw behind it to serve as a retreat route if one was needed. He wasn't going to get close enough to be spotted again.

He might not be able to count the buttons on their uniforms from this new location, but with his binoculars he'd get a good enough look at the enemy column to fill out a SALUTE report.

When the main column finely struggled into view the sight was not encouraging.

The drunken woman had been wrong the Woodland clad men had MRE's so it was likely it had a strong leader enforcing discipline rather then lack of food that had kept them from trading food for women.

So far he'd seen two M60 machine gun crews each loaded down with machine gun, tripod and ammo cans. Every other soldier in the column was carrying cannon shell or a case of MRE's peeking out from under the top flaps of their backpacks. The other half of the men had ammo cans in their hands.

Later, after the last straggler staggered past, he took out his all weather notebook and did another SALUTE report:

Size: about a hundred and fifty well armed, uniformed (Woodland camo) troops

Activity: moving a cannon, artillery shells, two (2) M60 machine guns, ammo and MRE's

Location: bottom of the valley just above the blown bridge

Unit: rogue military led by a Colonel Darkin

Time: Noon

Equipment: full field gear, M16 rifles, at least two M60 machine guns and one cannon.

It was an M119 towed howitzer like the ones he remembered from his Army days. He wondered how much ammo they had for it. It seemed like they were going to way too much work carrying it up the mountainside if the big gun was just a bluff.

The Rich Guys Survival Club had built a castle which said "food, warmth and protection" to all who saw or heard of it. So it was hardly surprising that others wanted to take it for their own. Most, like the Blue Heads, didn't stand a chance of breaching the castle walls but this group had the necessary equipment, discipline and desire.

There was a reason castles disappeared after the introduction of gun powder into Europe. Castle curtain walls and gates had been breached first by kegs of gun powder then by canon as Europeans refined their technique. The Rich Guys Survival Club had gambled that large amounts of gun powder and other explosives would be unavailable for a generation or more after The Blowup. It looked like they'd lost that bet.