TEOTWAWKI: Beacon's Story (22 page)

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Authors: David Craig

Tags: #Genre Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: TEOTWAWKI: Beacon's Story
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But Doc overruled her saying PSYOPS could save the lives of their children. In a rare slip of the tongue Elaine admitted to not knowing the meaning of the word PSYOPS. Doc explained in stood for Psychological Operations and was a way to demoralize the enemy without putting Molly's Marauders at risk.

 

 

Beacon emphasized his point to Colonel Darkin's troops with a "V" shaped ambush where two smaller valleys joined the large one late that afternoon. The point of the wide "V" was the uphill end of an open area the cannon would have to pass through. Molly's Marauders were positioned along both arms of the "V" with assigned fields of fire to prevent them from firing at their friends on the other side of the tiny valley.

 

 

Because of the training and drills they'd been doing here Molly's Marauders were able to slip silently into familiar positions shortly after Colonel Darkin's advance scouts had passed.

 

 

The troops at the head of column didn't have a chance. By the time Molly's Marauders made their pre-planned withdrawal along carefully selected hidden routes the accumulated casualties from all the harassment inflicted by Beacon and the Marauders amounted to almost two thirds of Colonel Darkin's men.

 

 

Overall the delaying action had cost Molly two dead and three wounded. Now Beacon was forced by Elaine's edict to send Molly and her marauders back to the castle to help prepare the defense in case his backup plan didn't work out.

 

 

The Colonel's walking wounded could carry little often requiring help from the non-wounded to trudge up the hills and were more of a drag on his progress than a help to his endeavor so Colonel Darkin cut his losses. Those who could no longer shoulder a rifle or walk unaided were left behind to "guard" the badly wounded and the howitzer shells that had to be abandoned because there were no longer enough men to carry all of them.

 

 

Making vague promises, like those he'd made to Private Howlard, to come back with "slave letter bearers" to pick them up Colonel Darkin abandoned his wounded and continued the advance with slightly more than a third of his original unit.

 

 

The men were on the edge of desertion or mutiny. Sentries were posted in pairs so as to discourage desertion.

 

 

Beacon could have ended the threat instantly if he'd been able to kill Darkin, but the Colonel wasn't wearing his rank, didn't point, wave or yell out orders and apparently saluting was forbidden in the unit.

 

 

After wasting days watching for a pattern of men coming to a single man before the unit moved or stopped Beacon had noted that one man seemed to circulate around in the unit before movements, Beacon realized the Colonel was going to the sergeants and quietly giving orders rather than have them come to him.

 

 

A well placed shot from the tree line from Beacon's 10/22 might end the whole affair. Or it might not. A wounded Colonel Darkin would increase security which would foil Beacons other, more certain, plan.

 

 

Now that the unit was small enough for Beacon to have an ice cube's chance in Hell of sneaking in and out their encampments unchallenged Beacon was willing to try a Hail Mary pass to end the game. Beacon watched where the man bedded down that night.

 

 

Beacon snuck into the position after the moon went down. His pistol was holstered but his Randall was in his hand. If things went to Hell he planned to draw the pistol and stab/shoot his way back out of the camp.

 

 

The guard had fallen asleep so Beacon didn't have to kill him and take a chance on making noise that would wake others.

 

 

The Colonel was fast asleep, so Beacon just placed his hand over the sleeping man's mouth and knelt on his waist as he inserted his Randall's seven and a half inch blade up under the man's sternum through his heart and twisted the blade a bit before pulling out in a long sideways slashing motion that sliced the man's lungs in half.

 

 

Dying, unable to get his hands out of the sleeping bag Colonel Darkin ceased all movement in moments and died in less than a minute.

 

 

As a new or fingernail moon lighted the camp Beacon pinned a note on Darkin's bloody chest with a bayonet he'd liberated from one of the Colonel's abandoned dead soldiers and snuck out of the camp as silently as he'd snuck in. He could have killed a few more men, but if he'd judged the unit's morale correctly that wasn't necessary and more killing would just have put his own life further at risk.

 

 

Once back in the brush he retrieved his rifle from its hiding place and retreated to a spot well up on a hillside overlooking the camp but behind a bush under a pine tree with branches reaching almost to the ground. He pulled out his binoculars, and waited.

 

 

As dawn lightened the sky the sentry snorted and came awake. Walking over to wake the Colonel he stopped dead a few paces away from the corpse and stood stock still for a few seconds. Then he screamed.

 

 

The camp came alive. Someone, probably an NCO, came over and pushed his way through the circle of men. After checking the body for signs of life he picked up and read the note out loud.

 

 

"Leave the machine guns, cannon and all ammo cans behind.

Travel downhill and you will not be harmed.

Take the weapons or go uphill and you will be killed."

 

 

Beacon didn't have to hear the words to know what was being said. The effect was immediate. One man turned and walked over to his backpack. He dumped a howitzer shell out and shoved his sleeping bag into it. By the time he started walking down the hill several others were following his example.

 

 

A knot of arguing men formed around the NCO who seemed to be the only one still wanting to carry out the dead Colonel's orders. One by one men peeled from the group to begin unpacking ammo and rolling up their sleeping bags. When he realized there wasn't enough manpower left to move the cannon the sergeant joined them.

 

 

Beacon was torn between two emotions; joy at saving the castle and the settlement from domination by the aspiring king Darkin and remorse over what he might be unleashing on the surviving people in the lowlands.

 

 

But it couldn't be helped. Beacon was only one man; he'd dodged death a dozen times in the last month and couldn't realistically expect to win every gunfight forever.

 

 

Also there was the little matter of playing God. For him to presume to know that all of these former citizen soldiers who'd been mechanics, salesmen and electricians before the Blowup would become bandits again now that Darkin was dead was the height of presumption. He had no way of knowing what the remnants of the rogue reserve unit would do and thus no justification for taking deadly action against them.

 

 

Sure the sergeant could form them into a band of brigands and ravage the countryside or they might lease themselves out as guards to some democratic survival community. More likely they'd break into small groups. Beacon just hopped some of them would return to the wounded men Colonel Darkin had abandoned.

 

 

Beacon waited until full dark before venturing from his hide in case there was a hidden sniper watching the vary valuable hoard of weapons in the glen.

 

 

Then he moved first the machine guns and then their ammo cans to the safety of the shadows under the trees before the moon rose. The cannon and its shells he left for the DDL&BSG LLC.

 

 

Beacon was well aware of the military doctrine preaching that the danger of all potential adversaries should judged not by their intentions which could change overnight but rather by their capabilities. A man on the other side of a river who hated Beacon but was armed only with a knife was not an immediate danger. A friendly guy with a rifle on the other side of that river could change his mind.

 

 

The Settlement had little if anything the castle dwellers would want and so would be safe from the castle even if they had a sudden change of heart; Colonel Darkin had proved the artillery piece was too heavy to move long distances cross-country without motorized transport.

 

 

It was a daunting task. First Beacon would move a M60 a hundred yards or so up the hill and hide it. Then back to pick up the tripod with its traverse and elevation mechanism so he could carry it to the gun. Then he did the whole thing again with the other machine gun and tripod.

 

 

Then he'd make a dozen trips carrying two ammo cans at a time. It was exhausting work and he "lost" one or another of the guns in the dark several times which added to the time and work.

 

 

Then he'd do the whole thing all over again to gain another hundred yards. By dawn he had both the M60's and all their ammo over the ridgeline and well hidden in a thicket on the other side.

 

 

Beacon spent the day under a tree on the ridge top alternately dozing and watching his hidden hoard as well as the not so hidden cannon. At dusk he worked his way down to the cannon erasing, as well as he could, all traces of his many trips up the hill with the guns and ammo. Any trained tracker would have spotted the trail he'd made up the hill from the cannon, but most people wouldn't know anyone had gone that way.

 

 

Then he got a good night's sleep in the thicket with the two machineguns on the opposite hillside in preparation for a speed march back to the castle the next day.

 

 

Hurrying back to the castle he asked if they'd like the cannon. Doc was elated, Elaine was furious and Molly was saddled up before the Board of Directors met.

 

 

Molly's Marauders, as they'd come to be known to everyone now, rode hell for leather to the cannon, set up a perimeter and waited for reinforcements.

 

 

Beacon, Cindy, Keith and a well armed party of adults set out after them a few hours later with virtually every horse the castle possessed. When they arrived Molly challenged her own father who, fortunately, knew the password. Beacon smiled to himself as he wondered what would have happen if dear old dad had forgotten it.

 

 

Molly had followed his instructions well. There were lookouts on top of the ridgelines on either side of the cannon as well as up and down the valley. No one could have gotten within a mile of the cannon without being spotted. The Marauders had carefully stacked the cannon shells in the shade so as not to break the seals on the containers and keep them cool which also contributed to their longevity.

 

 

The cannon shells were to be stored in a cool dry basement in the castle until a proper bunker could be built for them near the castle keep. A contingent of half of the adults loaded the thirty-three pound shells onto their own horses to be led back to the castle the other half while the rest of the adults, who'd been unhorsed by the ammo, joined Molly's Marauders in guarding the cannon.

 

 

The shells had to be taken to safety first because without its ammo the big gun was just a heavy hunk of metal whereas the explosive charges could be made into bombs, mines and petards.

 

 

While they awaited the return of the men and pack animals Molly's dad discovered a canvas container on the cannon's base full of manuals and instruction books. These were as valuable as the cannon itself as no one from the castle knew how the darn thing worked.

 

 

The remainder of the cannon's trip wouldn't be any easier than the first part, but now those moving the cannon had two-man bucksaws, horses and several block and tackle systems. This was a far cry from the few axes and ropes Colonel Darkin had had at his disposal. Tree trunks could be pulled aside to let the cannon pass and then repositioned so as to reestablish the castle's "No Trespassing" policy.

 

 

At Beacon's request and at Doc's direction, over the strenuous objections of Elaine, Beacon and Molly with two extra pack horses and two of the Outriders stayed behind as the cannon was pulled up the valley by the rest of the castle's horseflesh. The official reason for leaving the small cavalry unit behind was to establish the beginnings of a liaison with the Settlement and establish a trade route between the two budding nation states.

 

 

Doc must have surmised Beacon had a secret motive for requesting the two pack horses but there was a trust between them so the request was approved without asking embarrassing questions.

 

 

Once he'd loaded the two M60's and the ammo onto the pack horses Beacon led his small party to the Settlement. Beacon's decision to keep the M60's and not the cannon had been an easy one.

 

 

There was no practical way to get the cannon to the Settlement and they didn't have the level of technology necessary to maintain either it or the howitzer shells. The M60's on the other hand were well within their technical abilities and would provide the Settlement with enough firepower to defend against all post-apocalyptic threats short of cannons.

 

 

The guns were as much psychological warfare as physical defense. Knowledge of the firepower possessed by the two budding nation states and their alliance would spread far and wide. Nomadic raiders would decide to maraud in other directions. War lords would determine that expanding their empires could best be done in along other compass bearings.

 

 

With stability would come crops, trade, specialization, education and eventually civilization would pull itself up by its bootstraps.

 

 

Beacon and Old Bill would finally get their four watchtowers at the corners of the palisade, the towers would be necessary to support the M60's on their tripods in time of danger. When the fort was under attack one M60 could be placed in a bunker behind the main gate while the other was rotated between towers to keep the enemy guessing. The Mac and Thompson submachine guns would be icing on their defensive cake. Beacon realized he'd be spending a lot of time training machine gunners.

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