Fire From the Sky: Firestorm Page 18
–
Heath Kelly watched the vehicles approaching through the scope on his heavy rifle, trying to control his breathing as he'd been taught. He hadn't imagined that Clay would choose him to start the battle and the fact that he had, while a confidence builder to be sure, was also a very weighty responsibility. Too soon and the enemy force would be outside the best engagement zone. Too late and they would have advanced too far into the farm proper.
It helped that Clay had decreed where he wanted the lead vehicle to be when Heath opened fire, but it still left the teenager with the responsibility of judging exactly when that was.
On top of that Vicki had been pulled off the tower, leaving him without a spotter. It wasn't that he needed assistance with the targets, because he didn't. But when engaged he had noticed a tendency in himself to ignore everything but his target, and that was not a good habit to have. He fought to correct it, but he wasn't always successful. With a spotter to keep an eye on the battlefield in general, Heath felt better about his unfortunate tendency toward tunnel vision.
He watched the lead truck pulling into position and placed the windshield in his site picture. The truck looked as if the driver was thinking about turning into the drive of the Troy farm. Time to go to work.
He settled the scope on the covered windshield and took a steadying breath.
The driver ought to be right. . .about. . .there…
CHAPTER TWELVE
-
Moe Aldean would never have been considered smart. In fact, he had been called 'Aldumb' for so long that he answered to it without thinking nowadays. But Moe had always thought he was smarter than he was. He fancied himself a plotter and a thinker despite evidence to the contrary, which he cheerfully ignored. Instead, he gathered people to him that were even less capable than he was, forming himself a small 'posse' that continually told him how smart and tough he was.
Moe also considered himself something of a ladies man, a fact that had left more than one high school girl howling in laughter when he had approached her. Moe had always seethed with rage at these incidents and dreamed of revenge that he would never be able to take against them.
He also fantasized about revenge against the boys who had always bullied him in high school. The things he had endured at their hands were humiliating and often painful, and always damaging. There was little he could do about it, but that didn't take away the desire, the need, for revenge.
And then the lights had gone out.
He was out of high school a little more than two years when the lights went out. It had taken Moe a couple of days to figure out that not only were the lights not coming back on, nothing else was either. By the fourth day things were breaking down and Moe decided this was a sign. A sign that it was okay for him to take his revenge on everyone that had wronged him. To go on a rampage and get everything he'd ever dreamed about. He gathered his small entourage to him and started going down the list.
Not everyone he wanted revenge on was available, of course. Some were far out of town- others too well guarded even with things in a mess. But there were a few he could target, and he did.
Moe was ten days down a trail of blood, tears, screams and begging when he ran into Cheri. One of her girls was on Moe's list, but Moe had never considered encountering someone like the Amazonian leader of this. . .this felonious female association.
Cheri laughed at Moe's simple need for revenge, after she had put him and his friends on the ground. Normally she might have killed him there, but Cheri saw in Moe and his four companions a gaggle of useful idiots. People that could be used and discarded if need be. She had encouraged him and his cohorts to work with her group under her leadership.
Having felt the taste of defeat at Cheri's hands, Moe was not only convinced to follow her, he was also smitten with her. His few brain cells couldn't seem to concentrate on anything else when she was around. As a result, whenever Cheri asked him to do something, whatever it was, he did it without question and without fail.
This was a relationship that continued up until Cheri had met with Hyatt Holman, some two months after everything had gone bad. A lot had happened in those months. Fire had nearly destroyed the town, a military outfit had shot the place up and killed nearly two dozen men while freeing a bunch of prisoners. Word had it that Holman's chief accomplice, a cop named Peyton, had disappeared along with several of his men.
People began to go hungry and hungry people sometimes turn mean. And desperate. But Cheri had joined them up with Holman and none of them had gone hungry. Many, many others had, and no telling how many had starved, but Cheri and Moe and all their people had eaten regular. They had to work for it, but they were doing things they would have done anyway. This way they actually got paid for it.
And now Moe was sitting in the passenger seat of the heavily armored truck that was leading their attack on the farm where his lovely Cheri was supposed to be under cover and waiting for the attack. He hadn't seen her in days and couldn't wait to set his eyes on her again.
And there were lots of people on this farm, he reminded himself. Some of them might even be on his list. He remembered a girl named Sanders from school, but he couldn't remember her first name. She had never bullied him, but he had approached her and been rebuffed. The Sanders girl hadn't been ugly about it but she had refused him and that was enough to put her on the list. Would she be here? He turned to his friend, Hubert 'Hub' Stevenson, who was driving, to ask him if he knew where the Sanders girl lived - just in time to see Hub come apart as something smashed through the windshield and hit his friend in the chest.
Hub never had time even to cry out as he was dead before his body even realized it. His last act, actually an act of muscle spasms, was to ram his foot down on the accelerator of the armored truck, causing it to jerk forward and throw three of the men in the bed out onto the road.
“Hub!” Moe screamed as he watched his friend still trying to force his body to work. Something else slammed into the truck, something outside, and the truck jerked again, this time jerking to a halt. Steam began to enter the truck through the vents and the smell of burning oil came to his nose.
The truck was just as dead as poor Hub. Moe opened the heavy door and jumped down to the road, his rifle gripped tightly in his hand. He looked around frantically to see others in his party shooting wildly or falling to the ground with horrible wounds. He knew he had to find a place to hide until this was over. He had thought he had been safe in the truck but that hadn't been true.
He had to hide! But where could he. . .? There! A large culvert right there in the driveway they had been turning in to. More than large enough for him to wiggle into.
Moe darted forward, running as quickly as he could. Two times he saw dust kicking from the ground where someone was shooting at him but missed. Realizing someone was shooting at him gave him an extra burst of speed it seemed like as he continued running. When he was close enough that he thought he could make it, Moe threw himself into the ditch the culvert was part of and crawled on his elbows through the water to get to the culvert. It was a tighter fit than he had thought, but he was still able to skinny inside.
He crawled far enough inside to hide him from the enemy, at least if they were in the direction he thought. He could still hear shooting outside, along with screams and the occasional explosion, but in here he was safe. He wasn't a soldier. All he cared about was seeing Cheri again.
He couldn't do that if he was dead.
Once the shooting died down he would slip out of the culvert and make it look as if he'd been fighting all along. In the ruckus that taking over this place would leave behind it wouldn't be difficult.
Then he could see if that Sanders girl from school lived here. And find Cheri.
Moe hadn't realized that he was actually sharing the culvert. As his eyes began to adjust to the dark, he sensed more than saw movement to his front. Squinting, he tried moving to his right to let enough light from over his shoulder get in to light his way. It
worked.
The culvert Moe had chosen to hide himself in was already occupied. Occupied by a larger than average timber rattler. A timber rattler that was not amused to find his resting place disturbed.
It took poor Moe a few seconds the realize what he was looking at, but then he began kicking and screaming, trying to get out of the culvert the same way he had come in. Getting out however was not nearly as easy as getting in had been. And he didn't have nearly enough time. Angry now, the rattlesnake did what rattlesnakes normally do in these kind of situations, and lunged at the kicking, screaming human, fangs sinking into the left cheek of Moe's face and secreting venom as a show of his displeasure.
Drawing back, the angry rattler struck again, this time catching Moe on the left side of his neck near the carotid artery. Satisfied that he had done enough to make his displeasure known, the snake abruptly turned and departed through the opposite side of the culvert, looking for a new place to nap. Preferably one without screaming, kicking humans present.
The snake could have stayed had he been patient. Moe stopped kicking and screaming after two minutes. He stopped doing anything at all a few minutes after that.
–
As soon as Clay heard the boom of Heath's big rifle he had opened fire on the men in front of him. Several had already approached the old farm house, banging on the door and trying to pry open the shutters. He left them for Kade and Corey to deal with.
The element of surprise was with them and Clay could see the panic and confusion in the frantic actions of their enemy. Abandoning each other they sought any cover they could find, trying to get out of the withering fire coming their way. That panic only increased as Vicki Tully opened fire with her SAW, spraying the group as they tried to find hiding places.
Clay could hear Jody Thompson's rifle behind him as the sniper took out the remaining vehicles on the road. Men spilled out of them as they stopped and Clay decided their 'soft number' estimate might actually have been too soft. There didn't seem to be any shortage of targets.
“Bossman from Home Plate, come back,” he heard Deuce calling him.
“Go for Bossman,” he replied.
“Sentry Four is reporting movement to their front, numbers unknown at this time but estimated at ten, repeat ten. Tower Two cannot see movement yet.”
“Roger that. Tell them to wait until they are sure of their targets and then open fire. It would be better to wait until the tower can see them as well so they have some support but do whatever is best for them.”
“Roger that, will advise. Plate clear.”
As Clay looked out over the battlefield he was treated to the sight of one of the technicals literally exploding where it sat in the road.
“Holy shit!” he and Tandi exclaimed in unison. “What the hell was that!” Clay added, having forgotten his radio was on VOX.
“Ah, that might have been me,” Jody Thompson actually sounded embarrassed. “Incendiary,” he added.
Well, that would explain it. Hitting a gas tank with vapors already built up with an incendiary round would probably start a fire. And gas fumes did tend to be explosive.
“That's gonna be a bitch to move,” Tandi swore, then hit a running target with a three-round burst, putting him on the ground.
“So, it will,” Clay agreed.
“Wonder how everyone else is making it?”
–
“Two at the corner, looking our way,” Kade said.
“See 'em,” Corey replied. “Right,” he called his target.
“Now, now, now!” Kade called it off and they shot in unison. The target on the left fell, but the one on the right appeared to pull back.
“Well, shit,” Corey swore. “I know I hit that guy, damn it.”
“Maybe he's wearing armor,” Kade shrugged. “Scared him anyway. Look,” he pointed. Three men were approaching the door of the house with a sledgehammer.
“Well we can't have that,” Corey said, taking aim at the one actually carrying the hammer.
“I’ll take Thor,” he joked.
“Do it,” Kade nodded and both opened fire. Rapid fire from two rifles shredded 'Thor' and his friends. Two were still alive for the moment, crawling through the yard, but they ignored them since they weren't a threat at the moment.
“What are you looking for?” Corey asked as Kade turned to look behind them.
“I'm making sure no one sneaks up on us,” Kade replied. “We're the very edge of our defense over here. We can't afford to be flanked or taken out.”
“Listen at you, sounding all military,” Corey all but snorted.
“Well, it's true,” Kade continued to check behind them. He hadn't heard Clay's order to Nate and Titus to hold position still east of the house.
“Well hurry up cause here comes. . .never mind,” he added as the three men he had seen charging for the house went down in a hail of gunfire.
–
“Got 'em,” Tandi crowed as he changed magazines. “Who's next!”
“Calm down, Doc,” said Clay, even as he watched his side.
“I'm calm,” Tandi nodded. “I'm calm.”
“Looks like a group has finally gotten itself organized,” Clay pointed to where several people were huddled behind the vehicle that Heath had disabled. They didn't seem to be panicked, judging by the little they could see.
“They're going to try and get by Zach and Vicki,” Clay decided. “They're going to try and get to the houses. They probably suspect that there are people in the house they can use for leverage if they capture them.”
“I don't think that will end well for them.”
–
“We're about to have serious company,” Zach said as he watched more and more of the thugs sent by Holman moving into position.
“Let 'em come,” Vicki said savagely. “We’ll kill 'em all.”
“Wow, that. . . that's kinda sexy,” Zach was never serious for long. He keyed his radio.
“Whisper, this is Gunner. Are you able to see this bunch gathering behind that truck you disabled?”
“Roger that,” Heath replied.
“Can you whittle them down some?” Zach asked. “Maybe try and throw them off balance or scatter them out?”
“Can do.”
It was a mere few seconds when the large rifle boomed again. Zach saw blood flying across the group and could see panic run through the group as they scattered.
“Yeah, that will do nicely,” Zach nodded to himself as he took aim at the runners.
“We could have handled that,” Vicki sounded almost sullen. Zach just laughed as he kept shooting.
“Don't be all pouty now.”
–
Kade ducked as a stream of bullets impacted the top of their foxhole, sending splinters flying off the logs over their heads.
“Shit!” he exclaimed. “Corey are you okay?” he asked automatically.
No answer. Kade looked around, assuming that Corey hadn't heard him.
“I said are-, Corey!” Kade moved to his friend's side as Corey sat on the floor of their little bunker, blood spreading across his arm and face.
“Corey, are you hit?” Kade asked, kneeling next to him.
“Do you see me b…bleeding?” Corey demanded in between gasping for air.
“This is Ram,” Kade keyed his radio. “Ray is down! Ray is down!”
–
“Ray is down!”
“Shit,” Clay muttered to himself. Tandi was already grabbing his pack and shouldering it on.
“Give me ten seconds,” Clay ordered. “Scope, T-Square, Doc is on the way to Ray. Move in to support, they’ll need cover fire.”
“Roger that. Moving.”
“Tommy, give Doc some cover as he moves.”
“On it.”
“Go,” Clay shouted and started firing at anything in front of him that moved.
–
“Hang on Corey,” Kade was trying to get a compress on Corey's wound. “Help is coming.”
&
nbsp; “Are you watching what's happening around us?” Corey was eerily calm. “Don't let them sneak up on us!”
“Yeah,” Kade agreed, turning back to the action around them. “Hang on. Doc is on the way.”
“I heard,” Corey nodded. “Don't shoot Nate and Titus when they get here,” he warned.
“Right, right,” Kade was in more of a panic over Corey being hit than Corey seemed to be. “I'm on it.”
“Kade, you idiot, it's all right,” Corey sounded sleepy.
“I know, I know,” Kade was nodding even as he scanned their front, looking for where the shots had come from.
“Kade…” Corey started but lost consciousness at that point.
“What?” Kade hadn't noticed that Corey was out. “I'm looking, man. I'm looking.” He saw Tandi running like crazy for their position and turned to tell Corey.
“Hey man, here. . .here comes…” he trailed off as he noted Corey was out. “Corey!”
Before he could move to his friend's side Tandi literally slid into the hole. He took one look and immediately went to work.
“Get back on your rifle,” he told Kade. “I got it. You did good.”
“I just tried to stop the bleeding,” Kade told him, almost in shock.
“Yeah, that's what you were supposed to do,” Tandi nodded. “Now get back on your gun!”
“Right, right!” Kade turned back to the front once more.
–
Kade and Corey weren't the only people having problems. Mark Webb and Bryon Jessup were in the emplacement known as Sentry Four, east of the cabins. Gary Meecham and Samuel Webb were on the water tower platform, being the better shots among the civilians as well as being steady hands.
“Here they come,” Mark whispered. “Get ready.”
“Ready,” Bryon Jessup felt sick. He was scared to death. He didn't belong here. He was just a-
“Hey, pay attention!” Mark hissed. “We're about to be in the thick of it.”
“I got it,” the boy managed not to stammer. “I'm ready.” But he wasn't ready, was he? This wasn't Airsoft. This wasn't a game where losing just meant getting chewed out. This was real. All that shooting and exploding and stuff. . .that was all real. People were dying just down the hill and now people were coming up here to try and kill him, too.