Published: 27 Sep 2018

Starts Evening of Day +17

SSgt. Fox, Zeki, Devin
 

Staff Sergeant Fox, moved out to the railing of the engine and watched as Zeki scampered toward the back of the engine. She kept her rifle ready and scanned the nearby buildings but couldn’t help but glance in the direction the boy went repeatedly and with a great deal of concern as Zeki disappear from view. However, her worry changed to shock and annoyance as she spotted him on the top of the box car right behind the engine. She moved to the back of the engine and shouted, “Zeek! I told you to disconnect the engine if you could. Where are you going?”

Zeki looked back and motioned further back, “Me gets more of train! Get up on land no near river, so can still get food!”

“Oh, for the love of…” She muttered before shouting out, “At least stay low and keep your eyes open. You are a target up there!”

The boy nodded, got lower, and moved rapidly at a crouch.

A few seconds later SSgt. Fox couldn’t even see the boy. “Dammit!” she growled before taking a knee and panning her rifle over the ruins of Ellis, Kansas looking for anyone who may endanger the boy. It didn’t help the rain was falling hard and was mixed with pea-sized hail again, but she stayed out in the weather wiping her face several times while doing her best to move the muzzle of her rifle from window, to rooftop, to window looking for any sign of sniper activity. Nothing moved. The only sounds were the rumbling of the train engine and the roar of the rushing river hitting the underside of the bridge. After nearly thirty minutes and her debating if she should go make sure the Zeki was okay, she spotted him as he moved to the railing of the boxcar right behind the engine.

Zeki pulled himself back up on the engine breathing hard, “Me only able to gets first eight car. Rail to top of nine one all broke. Bets part of truck hit it.”

“You scared the crap out of me…”

“Sorry, but we no know what in car three on back. Hope more food. No want to leave food for river!”

She moved up and ruffled Zeki’s soaking wet mop of hair, “Crazy kid…”

Zeki touched his chin with a wince but still managed a slight smile, “Uncle Kadir say same lot a time!”

“He’s right… Did you see anyone while you were up there?”

Zeki shook his head, “Only see smoke north, but no like big fire. More like fire from house smoke thing.” He made a box shape with his hands.

“Chimney?”

“Uh huh, chimney. Smoke um…” he made a wavy motion with his entire left arm, “you know like slither up like from chimney.”

“Snake up?”

“Yeah!” He forced another grin, “Snake! See one in Colby pet store, wanted, but Aunt say no and yank me out a store by hair…”

“Your aunt and I would get along great… So was there just one chimney going?”

“Me see two, no real close to the other, but rain hard, so no see real far. Me could go up for more see…”

“No you won’t!” SSgt. Fox stated strongly as she physically grabbed the boy and pulled him into the relative safety of the train. “You are the only one who knows a thing about this train and there are probably others out there you can bring to other population centers and save hundreds, if not thousands of lives. This makes you the most valuable out of the three of us.”

Zeki shook his head, “But me lost most of train…”

“No you saved us and the train. You did great. But this is still your show. The water is pretty deep and fast flowing here. So what now?”

Zeki pointed further down the submerged rail line. “If track hold, go down there so be close to hill up from track. Think it grave stone park…”

“Graveyard,” Fox corrected the boy. “You are right, though. I noticed it right away. It’s on high ground.”

Zeki nodded, “On hill me think close to track. Stop train there, where water no go fast, and go south. No water not far.” He pointed to the southern part of the town where the water had not yet clamed. He then looked down, “What about Devin?”

“He’s got a deep gash in his leg, two badly broken fingers, and he’s out cold. It’s just the two of us, Zeek.”

“Mr. Korbel make sure have smell salt…”

“It’d be better if he stays unconscious, cause there is no way he is going to walk with the gash in his leg. It will open up on us.”

“Oh…” Zeki let out a long sigh of relief. “So we no leave him… Right?”

“NO!” SSgt. Fox shouted, then let out a long breath as she noticed the boy in front of him kneel and stroke Devin’s hair. It was clear by the actions, Zeki was not only very worried about Devin, but also saw him as some akin to family at this point. “Look Zeek, we are not abandoning him, no way in hell. But even if Devin regains consciousness and can walk, he shouldn’t. I’ll have to carry him. We’ll also have to be very careful. No telling who is in those homes and how they will view us. With me carrying your friend, my pack, his pack, and weapons I will be badly slowed, and I can’t just drop him, so you will have to be my eyes and have your firearms ready.”

Getting a nod of understanding, she took a deep breath, “Now how is your chin and how close can you get us to the berm next to the graveyard?”

“Chin super itch and still hurt, but OK… If track hold, me get real close. Think track get right next to curve and water no look like it move fast far away from river, but no know how deep. Train wheel tell us though.”

“It has to be better than where we are. See what you can do to get us as close as possible.” SSgt. Fox held up her long range handheld radio. “How sure are you we are in Ellis?”

“Me sure!” Zeki stated adamantly even as he pointed almost straight north to one of the nearest buildings, “Railroad Museum!”

SSgt. Fox couldn’t help but let out a humor-filled snort, even as she shook her head and covered it with her hand. “And how many times have you been here?”

“Three!” Zeki declared proudly. “Small but nice. Old engineer, Mr. Aver real nice! Him talk to me long time and take me to silo to see how corn fill train in Hays when Aunt take me on time two.”

“You don’t happen to know where this Mr. Aver lives, do you?”

“Last time whole patrol go to him house. Give all lemonade and burger, but no remember…” Zeki snapped his fingers, “But him have caboose mailbox and think it be where water not!” He pointed to the south. “See back of school play sets from where him cook on… um… gas burn… um…”

“Grill?”

“Yes, grill.” Zeki nodded, “See back of school from grill!”

“What kind of school? Do you know?”

Zeki’s forehead scrunched up as he thought it over. “Primary… um, grade here… School west of side with grill… grill north side house…”

SSgt. Fox held up a finger to stop the boy, then spoke into her radio, “Hill City Base, this Sergeant Fox, can you read? Over.”

A few seconds a static-filled the radio before a scratchy sounding voice came back over the radio, “Got you, but barely. What’s your status? Over.”

“I’m fine, Zeek is banged up and Devin is hurt bad, but we’re stopped in what Zeek swears is Ellis, Kansas, and as well as he knows trains and tracks I am going to say he’s correct. Much of Ellis is flooded. The north and south ends look dry, but there is heavy building damage and we can’t get north of the river. As it is, we’ll have to move the train up to get close to a berm next to the local graveyard to get out of the water. There is one to the southeast and there is a section of residential homes to the south, much of which looks partially intact. Over.”

“What are the radiation levels and is it safe to stick with the train? Over.”

SSgt. Fox took a quick reading, “Background radiation is higher than we had in Hill City this morning, but not by much. No nuclear damage. The train is in water, we are exposed and I need to find a place to get Devin so he can be in a warm bed. I’m going to need a medic and a med kit. Over.”

“Understood, any inhabitants? Over.”

“Zeek says he saw some chimney smoke to the north, so there are some folk around here. We’ll try to avoid contact, but we need to relocate to higher ground and like I said, the only real option is to the south. Zeek says he knows someone from here. Do you have a map and if so can you tell me where the grade school is from the railroad museum? Over.”

“Give me a few Sergeant. See if you can get any higher for better signal and I will be back with you as soon as possible. Base Out.”

Zeki listened to the conversation before he moved back behind the controls put more power into the engine. The wheels slipped as he pushed power into the wheels, but it did move some. With a clenched fist he stopped, slipped it into reverse and moved back a couple of feet. He looked up and spoke as he put power into going forward again, “Allah, just let the nine car disconnect so me can move please!” As if his prayers were answered, the engine lurched a few times even as it found some limited traction. Suddenly it jerked hard once as the coupler between the eighth and ninth car let go and the engine jumped forward with the eight cars still attached, before it started moving forward normally.

SSgt. Fox let out a long-held breath before speaking, “Enough for me to pick up a Koran or Bible, Zeek.”

Zeki gave the woman a quick grin, “Uncle Kadir teach and show me God of Bible and Allah of Koran one and same. Just glad he want to listen today!”

“Me too, kiddo, me too…”

Zeki’s hand stayed on the controls feathering them, but decided he couldn’t risk the engine stopping again so he pushed a little more power into the controls. He allowed it to gain a little more speed before he pulled back and let it coast forward. As soon as he saw the berm to the south was only a few yards from the tracks he hit the brakes. This time the train braked properly allowing him to stop almost exactly where he wanted. Seeing the woman looking at him with a raised eyebrow, he gave her a tight grin, “Me check airline to brake on all car. It be good on all eight car.”

“So you knew you could stop this time?”

“Kind of guessed, but pretty sure. No damage to three-way connector on each car. Me look real good.” He pointed to the graveyard. “Think like this be close to hill me can get and land start go back down if go more!”

SSgt. Fox looked down then moved forward, “Yeah, I agree. This is about as good as we can get it and you pulled the eight cars just like you said. Real good job! Kill the engine.” She got a nod before she glanced back at Devin who had not moved and was lightly moaning. “I need to get up higher. How did you get up on the box cars?”

Zeki looked over with a frown. When he spoke, even with his accent, it was clear he found the question to be a pretty dim-witted one. “Ladder back of the engine, down to the coupler, over to ladder on car, and up.”

The sergeant scratched at the side of her head, “You make it sound so easy…”

“No, hard in rain, but lots fun!” Zeki grinned in earnest, before looking down at Devin who let out another moan.

“Crazy, totally crazy, but my kind of crazy. But I need you to stay with Devin and if you see more blood, put another bandage over his leg and apply pressure. If he wakes up, don’t let him move too much. We need to get the bleeding to stop. I’ll be back after I talk to Master Sergeant Keating.”

Zeki knelt next to Devin even as he nodded.

SSgt. Fox secured her rifle and made her way back even as the intensity of the rain shower picked up. She looked down, noting the water was about a foot and a half deep judging on how far up on the wheels the water was. She also realized it would get deeper as she got off the raised tracks and made it over to the berm next to the graveyard. She decided, as she looked at the murky water, she would need to go across first, secure a safety line to a nearby tree and then come back and get Devin. She also realized the bandaged wound would get wet in the dirty water, and there was nothing she could do about it.

With a shake of her head she climbed the ladder leading to the first boxcar and panned the entire area with her M4 before keying the radio, “Hill City Base, Sergeant Fox. Can you hear me? Over.”

“A little better,” MSgt. Keating responded, “but still not great. Has your status changed? Over.”

“Maybe a smidge for the better. Zeek was able to move the train real close to the graveyard, but I’ll have to carry Devin through probably two to four feet of water and up a berm and across a road to get to the graveyard. Real glad you made all of us take a couple hundred feet of parachute cord and add it to our packs. Even with a safety line it’s not going to be much fun. Do you have a map? Over.”

“Kind of, but not a great one. However we found someone who knows Ellis pretty well. She says the grade school is straight south of the Railroad Museum. According to her, both are on Washington Street. If you are going from the graveyard, Washington Street is six bocks into town. However she says your better bet may be to turn on Monroe, four streets in and turn south and head to the new high school. It is on higher ground and serves as an emergency shelter. Over.”

“Sounds like she really knows the place. How sure is she about all this? Over.”

“Ellis is where she went to elementary school and the cemetery there is where her grandmother is buried. Over.”

“More than good enough for me. But I think I will find a place to get Devin dry and warm, then scout the area a bit more. Over.”

“Understood. Just be real careful, especially when crossing the water. Also, be aware, with you being on the south side, and Ellis cut in half, we will have to find a way down to you and from what we’re seeing it will not be easy. I-70 will only access the north and it may be the only major road partially intact. Over.”

“I already guess as much, but be aware, Zeek managed to save the first eight cars and we only emptied one and took some out of the next two back where we found the train. In addition, the last four of the cars he managed to pull forward were not broken into, so chances are we are sitting on tons of food. Over.”

“Not that we needed any extra motivation, but you found a way to give us some. We’ll find a way to get to you. Just take care of those boys, especially Zeek. There are probably more trains out there and he is a walking, talking, four foot ten inch, miracle find. Over.”

“Like he is my own. Fox Out.”

SSgt. Fox did a quick check on the boys before securing the parachute cord to the rail of the locomotive. Looking down into the murky water and noticing some movement toward the raging river only a half a mile west of where Zeki stopped the train, she pulled up her binoculars. However before she could focus Zeki moved up next to her and pointed, “Body, me think a woman. I see couple of small body while you up on boxcar. No move.”

SSgt. Fox let out a long breath, “Are you going to be OK after seeing this?”

“See worser at plane wreck and way worser in Turkey… Hope they be with Allah now…”

“Me too, buddy. Me too.” With another glance in the direction of the mostly submerged body, she secured her military vest to the cord with a carabiner, then climbed down the rail. She tested the water with her boot, took a deep breath, held it and jumped just in case it was over her head. Fortunately, it only came up to her mid-thigh, but the current was a little stronger than expected. The next problem was the ground sloped down from the track before it got to the berm.

With a shake of her head she tossed her pack up on the train even as she shouted out, “Zeek, I am going to go across and tie a line on a tree, then come back for my pack.”

Zeki moved over to the rail and looked down with a great deal of concern as the woman held onto the cord tightly and made her way down from the track. The water made it up to where it was over half way up her chest before she made it to the berm, grabbed onto a tree branch and pulled herself up. He waited for her to catch her breath and secure the other end of the cord around a larger tree before he called out, “Me come next?”

“No!” she shouted a bit harsher than she meant to even as she took a seat with her back to the tree. She held up a hand to indicate she needed a few more seconds before she called out, “Sorry Zeek, I didn’t mean it to sound so mean… The current is real strong right off the track, so I am going to grab each pack one at a time, keep them over my head so they don’t get wet, and then help you across.”

SSgt. Fox took a swig from her canteen before she continued, “I’ll get Devin last, with him tied off on the cord so if something goes wrong you can pull him up the embankment.”

“But you no be tied off then!”

“A risk we’ll have to take, Zeek, but it will be OK. I can always grab on to Devin and pull myself across if I slip or something, then help you pull him. But hopefully I won’t need to. In the meantime strip down, preferably all the way, but at least to your undershorts and put all your clothing, including your boots, in one of the garbage bags Master Sergeant Keating made you all put in your packs. Tie it tight and then put it in a second bag and tie it so it is double-bagged.”

“Me already wet…”

“Yeah, but there is no telling how contaminated and nasty this water is. We only had you bring one change, so I don’t want you possibly contaminating what you are wearing.”

“What about Devin?”

“I already cut off his pants but if you can get his boots and socks off and get them into your garbage bag, great. Just make sure to tie it real well and not puncture it so none of this water gets in. Understood?”

Zeki nodded and quickly started to undress.

SSgt. Fox took her time, but was totally exhausted by the time she carried the packs, over her head, across the narrow span of flowing water and up the muddy embankment leading to the paved road next to the graveyard. However, she didn’t want to leave the packs unguarded, so with a deep breath she made her way back across, thankful the rain was still coming down hard. The weather would make it unlikely people would be out and it also obscured what she was doing from any prying eyes still within the town. She wiped her face and shook her hair before she motioned for Zeki to come down to her. Seeing him cover his front with his hands, she rolled her eyes. “Nothing I haven’t seen before Zeek, but don’t worry. I am going to put my back to the ladder. Come down and grab onto me. Hold on to my vest real tight with one hand and the garbage bag with the other and no matter what, don’t let go of me. If we lose the bag, we’ll have to deal with it.”

“You take bag. I can pull me across…”

“No! I want your head well above water so you don’t accidentally drink any of this. Hold on and keep your head above mine. I will do my best to keep you above the water level. If I slip, hold your breath and close your eyes and hold on with everything you have. I will get your head back above water as fast as I can.”

Zeki let out a long breath and glanced down at Devin before climbing down the ladder with the bag of his clothing and Devin’s boots and socks. As soon as he got down, he wrapped his legs around the woman’s waist, hooked his right hand under her shoulder strap for her combat vest and gripped the garbage bag in a near death grip with his left hand.

She glanced back over her shoulder, “Perfect. Just hold on. Once I get up to the hill, toss the bag up to the top and use the cord to pull yourself up through the mud so you don’t slide back into the water. The mud is nasty and has gotten worse with each time I climbed up there with a pack.”

“Ready,” Zeki stated with some trepidation even as the woman secured the cord and stepped into deeper water. He then had to hold on to the bag as the water tried to pull it down toward the raging river. He cringed as he felt the woman falter as something under her feet shifted, but true to her word, even as her whole head went under for a moment, she used her free hand to push him up a little higher so his entire head stayed above the water. A minute later she made it to the edge of the berm. As soon as he tossed the bag with his clothing up to the top, he found himself airborne as the woman used everything she had to toss him almost halfway up, and well above the waterline.

Even as he looked back with some surprise, Zeki heard her spit out some water before stating in a badly winded voice, “I know it’s chilly and you want to get dressed, but as soon as you get up the hill to where the packs are, get your shotgun or rifle out, guard our gear, and cover me while I get Devin. You can get dressed once I get up to you and get my rifle out.”

Zeki nodded in understanding even as he asked, “You OK?”

“I may have to take a break before I bring Devin across, so I may be a few minutes.”

“Me watch you real careful.”

SSgt. Fox managed a slight smile. “I’m sure you will.” She then made her way back over to the train, pulled herself up the ladder and took a knee on the deck leading to the cabin. After a few minutes she used the rail to drag herself up to her feet, looked skyward and let the rain beat into her, and wash off some of the muck from the water and mud. Before she could do more than take a step in the direction of the inside cabin where Devin was still unconscious, the roar of a shotgun blast caused her to spin even as she intuitively grabbed the pistol out of her shoulder holster.

Zeki was too focused on Staff Sergeant Fox to notice the danger until it was almost too late. Fortunately, a deep growl alerted him in the nick of time. He turned to see a Rottweiler and a pair of Chows with matching collars trying to circle him. He really didn’t have enough time to gauge danger, so he brought up his shotgun and fired at the Rottweiler since it was the closest. The limited training Gage gave him proved to be beyond valuable as he remembered to take an extra second and aim for center target rather than just fire a snapshot. The result was he missed the middle of the dog, but his shot still found flesh.

While the .410 was not big round, it was more than enough to slam into the back right hip of the dangerous former pet and spin it to the ground. At the same time, the loud shot caused the other two animals to jump back.

SSgt. Fox didn’t have a great view, but with the two unwounded animals momentarily frightened and confused by the gunshot, she braced and fired at the animal the most exposed to her. Two of her three shots hit, dropping the Chow.

Zeki put his back to the tree the cord was tied to and fired again at the Rottweiler, finishing it off.

The final Chow growled and barked, but it instinctively knew it had lost the rest of its small pack. With its fur on its back raised, it backed off, showing teeth.

“Zeek!” SSgt. Fox called out, “I don’t have a good shot from here! Don’t let it flee. It will be a serious danger to us, especially with the smell of blood on you and Devin!”

Zeki raised the shotgun to his shoulder, noted the dog’s muzzle had blood on it from what had to have been a recent kill, sighted in, and took another shot. This one hit the dog in the center of the front chest, dropping it instantly. Not wanting to take any chances and still looking at the blood covered muzzle, he shot it again to make sure.

SSgt. Fox let out a sigh of relief, but still had to make sure the boy on the edge of the road next to the graveyard was thinking clearly, “Zeek, you only have five rounds and fired four shots! Reload while I cover you!”

As soon as she was sure the boy had replaced the spent shells, and with adrenaline still flowing through her, she used it to her advantage. Without any further hesitation, she shoved her sidearm back into its holster, hefted Devin over her shoulder and cut the cord attached to the railing of the locomotive with her combat knife. She then wrapped the cord around her wrist a few times and climbed down into the water.

She moved across the short distance, continuing to spin the cord around her wrist as she went. Since the cord was still tied securely to the tree she used it to help pull herself up to the relative safety of higher ground. She took a few seconds to scan the road, then moved over to the graveyard and lowered Devin over the side of the stone wall separating it from the road, noting the irony of what was a high ground sanctuary as she did so.

SSgt. Fox motioned for Zeki to cross the road even as she panned the area with her pistol out. “OK, kiddo, I know you won’t want to do this, but use the rain to take a quick shower with some soap. Once you are washed off, get dressed including your hiking boots. I don’t want you stepping on something sharp and slowing us down.”

Zeki thought about protesting, but the firm look the woman gave him was enough to prevent any argument. However, he couldn’t help but glance over to Devin and up to the staff sergeant. “Both you have river on you…”

“Yeah, and as soon as we find some shelter I’ll be doing the same thing you are right now and then wash Devin off as best as I can. We saw one body float downstream, and you said you saw two others. There is no telling what other disgusting things we just came into contact with. So use plenty of soap.”

Once Zeki had his clothing back on including his protective vest and his pack, she boosted him over the rock wall. “The water and the movement reopened the wound on Devin’s leg. Cut off a section of his shirt and tie it tight, but not too tight, over the existing bandage.”

“No take off old and put new on?”

“No. We will keep adding to it until we find a safe spot and get it slowed or stopped enough to take it off and put something clean over it. If we take it off now he will lose a lot more blood needlessly.” She then handed Devin’s pack over the wall to Zeki. “Once you have another bandage over his leg, tie his boots on this, so we don’t lose them. It’s starting to get dark. We need to find shelter while we can still see. The last thing we want to do is break out flashlights. We would stick out for miles.”

Zeki grabbed the pack from her and went to work cutting off a large section of the boy’s shirt to use as a makeshift dressing. He cringed as Devin subconsciously let out a little yelp as he pulled it tight and tied a knot over the top of the injury just like he had been taught in first aid class.

SSgt. Fox took a few seconds to scan the area before checking on the three dogs. Seeing one still breathing she sliced its throat, not wanting it to suffer. She then pulled the M4 off her pack and double-checked to make sure the magazine was fully seated. Even as lightning forked across the sky, she hefted her pack and rolled over the top of the rock wall of the cemetery. “Ok Zeek, the storm is getting worse and we are way too much in the open to stay here with this kind of lightning. The problem is I’m all but wiped out. Can you carry yours and Devin’s pack while I carry my pack and Devin?”

Another burst of lightning illuminated the area even as dusk and heavy clouds caused the darkness to creep over the field of gravestones. Zeki looked up, pulled one of the shoulder straps over his left shoulder and forced himself to stand. “Me find way.”

SSgt. Fox couldn’t help but reach over and give the boy a quick hug even as she spoke. “You’re a brave and strong little guy, but make sure you can drop his pack and pull your shotgun just in case.”

Angus, Vern, Gage, Ramsey, Lt. Grader, PFC Hulbert, Spec. Grimm, PFC Lopez, Pvt. Weathers

Angus stood on the top of the Stryker and scanned the buildings with a pair of binoculars. The only thing moving was the bobbing up and down canoes, all of which were covered so rain couldn’t flood them. In the distance, a late afternoon line of thunderstorms could be seen building, promising another violent round of nature’s fury. He looked over to Lieutenant Grader as he handed the binoculars back to the man. “We need to do this fast or whoever is in left in trees or on top of picnic table shelters on the far side are going to get hit with another storm.”

“I noticed, and those who are still alive can’t take much more,” the lieutenant responded with a deep frown. “It will also be dark within the next few hours and we need to be able to scout for them while there is still daylight to do so.”

Grader glanced down, “Hulbert, it looks like whoever is in there made an access in the top of the building so they have a an easy and safe way out.”

“That’s been there for a couple of years,” Vernon stated. “The adults sometimes go up top with lawn chairs to talk, play poker and get away from us kids, but stay where they can see us.”

“That’s my idea or running a camp full of boys,” Specialist Grimm snickered.

Grader chuckled but stayed focused on the mission. “There is no sign of movement, so I’m guessing they are acting dead. Since they don’t appear they are going to make this easy and everyone we’ve talked to says there are kids inside, Hulbert and Weathers break out the riot control supplies. We’ll try to go less-lethal.”

Hulbert responded even as climbed into the Stryker, “CS gas?”

“Yeah, good as anything we’ve got. But we’ll have to break out a window or two and we have never tried them against a window. They will probably break them, but we only have a couple of cases, so use a 203 rubber round. I’m sure one of those will bust out a window.”

Just behind Hulbert, Gage jumped up, “Oh, let me come instead of staying back! I’ll break the window for you!”

“You need time to sort out your feelings and I sure as hell don’t want you getting shot at Gage…”

Gage hefted his assault weapon while looking devastated, “But…”

Hulbert snickered and ruffled Gage’s hair, “How about we let him take the shots from behind me while I give us both protection with a riot shield, El Tee?”

At this Gage looked up hopefully and gave an enthusiastic nod, even as he instinctively slid to the side to get out of Hulbert’s arm reach.

Grader let out a long breath, glared at Hulbert, rolled his eyes, and finally stared right at Gage. All this got him was a pleading, puppy-dog-eyed look. It was simply too much for him to say no to. With a light growl he spoke with clear frustration and annoyance. “OK, son, but I want you to stay prone the whole time you are up top, stay behind Weathers and Hulbert, and take a couple of extra rubber 203 rounds in case you need to shoot someone. Keep your finger off the main trigger of your M4.”

Hulbert jumped back into the Stryker, pulled a 12 gauge shotgun off a rack, and stuck it out the side door. “How about we let him take this up with him loaded with beanbag rounds? This way he can switch after he takes out the window for me.”

Grader moved his jaw back and forth for a few seconds before nodding, “As long as Gage is as good with a shotgun as he is with everything else we’ve had him shoot, it’s a good idea. I’d still prefer he stay in here…”

“Oh, come on! I can shoot a shotgun good!” Gage instantly declared even as he took the offered weapon, checked the chamber and started unloading the combat rounds.

“Why am I not surprised?” Grader quipped. “If I give you permission, you’ll do exactly what Private Hulbert tells you, right?”

Seeing Gage’s head bob up and down eagerly, even as the other kids with him shook their heads or smacked their foreheads, Grader openly laughed. “OK, Gage, but you get up there and stay low. If you get hurt, I’m going to kick your ass as soon as you get healed up, got me?”

“I’ll stay real low and behind the shield the whole time, promise!”

“OK, fine…” Grader stated while his tone told everyone he was not happy about it in the slightest. “Hulbert and Weathers once you get a couple of CS rounds into the building, switch over to the 303s. I don’t want any live rounds fired by anyone without my authorization unless they start shooting at you. If they do, take out whoever it is, but I don’t want any auto-fire. However, a .22 can still kill, so adult or kid, it doesn’t matter. If they fire they need to go down.”

Hulbert nodded, glanced down at Gage, and jerked his head in the direction of the Stryker. “Come on, I’ll get you a box of beanbag rounds and I want to see you fire a few so you can see how they behave and I can make sure you are good with a shotgun.”

Gage jumped into the armored vehicle and watched with wide-eyes as Hulbert and Weathers opened a padlocked footlocker and pulled out a pair of rifle-like weapons with large round magazines reminding him of old tommy guns. On the right side a tube ran from a gas chamber next to the actual barrel into a spot between the trigger and the magazine. Adding even more character to the weapon, a high tech rectangular site sat behind the barrel and gas chamber. In the front on the barrel, there was a standard looking fixed site. “Wow…” He couldn’t help but blink, “What is that?”

“Hey a firearm the boy doesn’t know!” Weathers stated with a huge teasing smile.

“Never seen nothing like it!” Gage edged closer and carefully looked over the strange weapon. “It looks super wicked!”

Hulbert spoke up as he let Gage look it over, “It’s a FN 303, an air fired riot control and hostage rescue weapon. It fires a .68 caliber less-than-lethal round, of which there are five types, but all we have is impact and irritant rounds. Our platoon qualified with them a few months back, and since we were the only ones who did, and none of the others wanted them, the lieutenant had us take all we had at the armory. Never thought we’d actually need the non-lethal stuff, but now I’m real glad we grabbed it all.”

“Orders were to empty the armory, and no one else wanted any of it other than some 203 CS rounds,” Weathers explained. “So the El Tee had us pretty much fill the back of this with crates of all the less-than-lethal in the place. Once we got to Hill City and found a place to base ourselves out of, we made an armory, but every vehicle has a locker with a couple of 303s and some 203 CS and rubber rounds.”

Hulbert handed Gage a box of twenty-five 12 gauge beanbag rounds. He then pointed at the shotgun “Clear the chamber and load it with these. I want you to take several shots so I can see how well you handle it. It will also let you see the difference between these and normal shells.”

Gage gave the weapon a once over, verified he had removed the combat rounds and double-checked to make sure the chamber was empty. He held it up just as his father taught him, allowing Hulbert to confirm it was clear.

The young private first class raised an eyebrow, “Someone really taught you well.”

“Dad always made me prove a weapon was fully unloaded by having someone else check before he would let me clean it or do more than look it over. If I didn’t, it was kind of hard to sit, so I learned fast.”

Hulbert let out a humor-filled snort, “Good man. If every kid was taught as much respect for firearms, kids wouldn’t accidently shoot each other or themselves as much. Now load it with the beanbags. Put the combat load in your vest pocket, but don’t load them unless one of us tells you to. From now until we clear this camp, you are to use L.T.L. rounds only. Understood?”

Gage nodded, “Uh huh… but I’ll put the killing rounds in my jacket pocket and the beanbags in my vest, so I don’t accidently grab a real one.”

“Good idea, but don’t think of these as not being dangerous, Gage. They are all real, and even a beanbag can kill.” Hulbert warned. “No face or head shots and if at real close range, nothing to the upper chest. Beyond ten yards a chest shot will probably crack a rib or two but isn’t likely to kill an adult. If you have to shoot at a kid for any reason, go for the legs unless there simply isn’t time to take aim. If that happens…”

“Go for center mass,” Gage responded before Hulbert could finish. “I’m not gunna let anyone shoot at any of us if I can stop it!”

“Perfect. We don’t want to badly hurt any of them, but it is us against them. If push comes to shove, we shove hard.”

Gage nodded in full understanding while loading the weapon. “Never seen a shotgun that holds nine rounds before. The Mossberg Dad sold at his shop only held seven, and most of the others only held five or six.”

“This is the only one I have ever fired, so I’ll just have to take your word for it. I grew up with rifles hunting deer, not shotguns,” Hulbert stated while ripping off a piece of paper from a notebook, and then using his combat knife to stick it up on a tree. “The good thing about our military beanbag rounds are they can be chambered normally, I have heard some other types you have to fire individually. Also, our beanbag rounds have a maximum effective range of thirty yards, so I want you at about twenty.” He paced off the approximate distance and used his heel to mark a line in the mud. You hit the paper three or more times with those nine rounds and I’ll call you good. I then want you to fire a rubber 203 round, too, just so you know how it shoots. I want you to aim at the paper or whatever is left of it.”

Gage moved up to the line and called out, “Live practice fire! Anyone down range?”

Hulbert glanced over his shoulder, “We’re all behind you Gage. Go ahead.”

Gage put in earplugs, pulled the shotgun up to his shoulder, sighted on the paper, and fired. The bag dropped faster than he expected, but he still hit the tree just below the paper. The miss still caused him to give a light snarl.

“Real good for your first try Gage,” Weathers stated with an undertone of jealousy. “It took me over a dozen shots to get as close as you just did.”

The words didn’t help. Instead Gage grumbled. “I should have shot higher, knowing it has a slower muzzle speed. It won’t happen again.” He chambered the next round, sighted in, and hit the paper. He then took five steps back, hit it a second time, took another five steps back and hit the lower edge of the tattered paper.

Hulbert and Weathers exchanged glances as Gauge dropped to a knee and fired the last five rounds hitting what was left of the paper and then the tree where the paper had covered. He put the shotgun over his shoulder, pulled up his assault rifle, lined up the 203, and fired the grenade launcher with the rubber round. Bark flew off just below the knife and the round bounced off to the right and hit the mud with splattering sound.

Gage stood, checked both weapons to make sure they were clear, then reloaded. He rubbed his shoulder for a moment before glancing over at Grader. “Nice and lots of fun! I think I got it and it’s nice cause it doesn’t kick as hard as a normal round does… but the 203 pretty much does. So I can ride up top, right?”

“Think you got it?” Specialist Grimm stated from back at the Stryker with a great deal of astonishment, showing her first real signs of respect toward any of the kids. “No, you just passed a military certification with beanbags and you really can fire the 203! Damn, kid, you can shoot!”

Gage’s eyes sparkled as he grinned, “Dad’s old Green Beret buddy said I was born to be a sniper!”

“He’s right.” Grader confirmed. “Really, impressive. And yes, you can ride up top with Hulbert and Weathers. But again, you are not up there to be a front-line fighter. Take out the windows for them and then keep your eyes open. No being a hero and do me a big favor and never tell your folks I let you do any of this.”

Gage smiled, “Dad would shake your hand and Mom could care less. But as soon as I have a window broke for each of them I’ll get and stay real low.”

Seeing the trio move to get up on top of the Fox, Angus spoke up, “Gage…” seeing the smaller boy frown at him, he stopped, let out a breath, and held up both hands, “Dude, don’t go giving me the stink-eye! I just wanted to say be careful. Without you we wouldn’t a got this far and we need you with us if we are ever going to find our families.”

Vernon also spoke up, “Angus is right. We’d all be dead or worse without you. Stay safe up there!”

Gage gave a light grin and nod before following Weathers and Hulbert. At the same time Grader squeezed Angus’ shoulder, “Those are the kind of things he not only wants, but needs to hear. Well done.”

“Thanks, but I was just being honest.”

“Even better. However, many kids your age wouldn’t have said what you did. I can tell he really looks up to you and the more he trusts you all, the more likely he will eventually open up to you and let his demons out. When he does, find an adult to talk to, even if he won’t cause I’m betting he is holding in some really dark crap.”

“Don’t worry, sir. We will. But maybe we’ll get lucky and he will talk to Mr. Hulbert. I can tell he likes him.”

“Really?”

Vernon nodded, “Yeah, he almost never lets anyone touch him without pulling away real hard. So far only Ramsey’s mom and dad, and once in a while with Mr. Korbal, now Mr. Hulbert.”

“I saw him move away…”

“He moves away from everyone,” Ramsey responded. “Normally he jerks hard and looks mad when any adult touches him, let alone ruffles his hair. This is the soonest I’ve seen him not jerk away hard at even the attempt at a touch from someone he doesn’t know pretty well.”

“If you find out who hurt him and he is still alive, let us know. I’m sure most, if not all, of us will be more than happy to unleash Hell on whoever it was. In the meantime let’s get moving. Daylight is wasting and there are certainly kids clinging to life on the far side of this camp.”

Ten minutes later with the wheels of the Fox churning up lots of mud, Lt. Grader shouted up through the open top hatch, “One of you shout out for them to all get on top of the building. Tell them we aren’t asking. Give them a minute or two, but no more. If you see them try to cover the windows, shoot.”

Hulbert called out, “Understood El Tee.” He then turned his attention to the what had been the mess hall for the camp. “Everyone inside, this is the Kansas National Guard. You are ordered to come up on top of the building without weapons. This is not a request.”

Nothing moved other than the canoes.

Hulbert pointed to one of the windows in the center of the building while glancing at Gage. Getting a return nod, he readied his assault rifle. “Last chance!”

Thirty seconds later he let out a disgusted breath, pulled up a riot shield and glanced down at Gage, “Stay behind this as much as possible, but open me a hole Gage!”

Gage rose up to a knee and fired into the window shattering it. This was followed moments later by a CS round from Hulbert who proved he was extremely good with the weapon, since it took him only a second or two to drop the shield and take aim.

Behind the man, Gage quickly reloaded, pointed at a larger corner window, got a nod from Weathers, and fired. Once again the glass blew inwards.

Weathers fired a round and missed, hitting the side of the building. “Dammit!”

Hulbert backhanded a 203 round to Gage, “Gas grenade!” He then turned to Weathers, “Switch to the 303 and cover him. You are way better with it than the 203!”

Weathers spotted a figure moving up to one of the middle windows, pulled the FN 303 up to his shoulder and fired. The window shattered and he was rewarded with a yelp of pain. By the sound of the voice he was pretty sure it was a kid.

Hulbert also pulled up his FN 303 and fired through the middle window at the outline of a coughing figure holding what appeared to be a rifle. The shot knocked whoever it was down.

This allowed Gage to load the gas grenade and fire it through the broken corner window. It didn’t take long for whiffs of white smoke to curl out of it.

Even though the Fox was over ten yards from the building, Gage blinked at a stinging sensation in his eyes and wiped a long trail snot on his sleeve. “Oh, nasty! So this is what tear gas does?”

Weathers also wiped his nose, but still managed to knock another figure back from the first shattered window, “Tear gas is nothing compared to CS, kid.”

“CS is way nastier, for sure. But we have a bit of advantage,” Hulbert stated as he decided to put another CS gas round into the window Weathers broke out with his 303. “We had to go through a gas chamber filled with it. This is nothing when compared to being inside a building filled with it and having to give out our name, rank and social security number before we were let out. Now switch to the shotgun and go prone!”

Gage dropped down onto his stomach and panned the weapon over the windows, but the third gas grenade proved to be too much for those inside the building. The trap door to the roof flipped open. Seconds later kids and adults appeared, clearly fighting each other to try to be the first out. More than a few were openly crying, while all were coughing and wiping at their eyes.

Hulbert said nothing as he watched at least seven people get pulled down by bigger or stronger kids and adults, so they could get out first. He bet, by the fact one of the set of hands to poke up had red-colored sleeves, the kid they belonged to actually got yanked back and tossed back into the highly nauseating smoke-filled building at least three times, just so others could get out faster.

Gage noticed no one wore shoes or socks and had shorts and shirts on. A few came into view only wearing underwear and a shirt as more from below pulled themselves out coughing and gagging. A few had shoes or hiking boots tied together and hung around their necks, but most didn’t. “They knew we were coming, how come they are half undressed?”

“There is water in the building, so they are wading through it as they move around,” Weathers responded. “The last thing they want is to stay in wet clothing, especially shoes.”

Hulbert quickly agreed, “Keeping feet dry is real important, same with wet pants. Just look at the rashes the two we pulled out of the tower. The real question is why they stayed when they could have made it to shore in canoes. It has to smell horrible in there.”

Gage glanced up, “If it didn’t, it sure does now!”

Weathers openly laughed while Hulbert shot Gage a humor-filled smirk before turning his attention to the near melee breaking out as those below started fighting to be the next one out. “If you have a firearm, drop it and get clear of the hatch so there is more room for the others to get out!”

At first his words fell on deaf ears, so he fired three quick shots from his sidearm. “I said drop your weapons!”

Three of the four of the adults and two of the kids came up with rifles. Three of them dropped them as soon as the second command was given by Hulbert. The man and older teen who didn’t immediately comply to the instructions were knocked down by impact rounds fired from Weathers’ 303.

A tall lanky adult proved to be extremely stubborn. The man tried to pull his rifle up even after getting knocked down, so Gage put a beanbag round into the center of his chest and knocked him off the back of the building. A loud splash verified the man hit the water, while the pained string of curses told of his having survived the fall. He appeared a minute later swimming in the direction of the north shore, over a half a mile away with a small pack and the rifle over his shoulder.

“Tough bastard!” Weathers noted.

“Very,” Hulbert agreed before shouting, “Mister, keep going and don’t stop. Also know if you even think of pointing the rifle at us, the next shots we fire will do way worse than knock you off this building!”

The warning seemed to take what little fight remained out of those spilling onto the top of the building. All moved well away from the hatch and the Fox, took a knee and fought to find and take in some fresh air. After nearly five minutes, a well-built boy pulled up a much smaller boy who had on a bright red shirt with the front covered in snot, puke and a probably some blood from an badly bloodied nose and knuckles and with a clear hand print on the side of his face. The poor kid also had a skinned knee and judging on the way he winced as he put some weight on his right foot to get further away from the smoke, a tender ankle. Making it even worse, he only had on undershorts and a long sleeved shirt and was soaking wet from having been repeatedly tossed down into the water inside the building.

The older teen looked over at the bawling kid, “Gifford, anyone else down there?”

The small boy coughed and sputtered while shaking his head and shrugging, making it clear he didn’t think anyone else was below, but wasn’t sure and really didn’t care.

The well-built teen glanced around, got a quick headcount, looked back down into the building and slammed the door down, blocking much of the fumes spilling out of from below. He then rolled away, coughed and gagged a few times while staying down on all fours. Even as overwhelmed by the gas as he was, he shot a nasty glare at one of the men who had dropped a rifle after climbing up. “No sign of Mr. Warren or Flynn… but both of them got shot and knocked back from the windows…” He then spoke with a great deal of anger at the guy he was looking at, “Oh, and thanks for nothing, Mr. Hague! They won’t shoot anything with kids in the building you said…”

The man managed to get to one knee, “Shut up, Westbrook. I sure as hell didn’t expect them to gas us and you telling them two of us didn’t come up sure as hell isn’t helping!”

“You are the one who needs to shut-up.” Hulbert snarled while pointing his 303 right at the man. “I noticed you pulled yourself up right after the kid with the red shirt disappeared from view the second time, so I’m willing to bet you were one of several who tossed him down, just so you could get out before him.”

Before more could be said, the sounds of a window breaking on the far side of the building followed by a few splashes caused Gage to grin, “Me thinks the last two just bailed!”

Hulbert snickered, but switched his aim over to Westbrook. “Check for me and be truthful what you see, Mr. Westbrook.”

“Don’t you dare…” Mr. Hague stated only to get knocked on his back by an impact round fired from Weathers. The round hit the man in the forehead, snapping his neck back and totally stunning him.

The smirk to cross Weathers’ face told Gage the shot placement was not an accident, but before he could say anything another problem arose.

A heavyset boy shouted, “Dad!” then jumped up and started to charge. It was extremely short-lived as Gage fired, hit the teen in the upper thigh. The small bag filled with shot pushed the upper part of the leg back and hyper-extended the knee. This caused the hefty teen to face-plant on the hard roof. The rather round boy rolled over, grabbing at his left leg with one hand and his face with his other, while screaming in pain.

If anyone else was thinking of resisting, this ripped the idea out of them. Most held up a hand while the others wiped at their eyes. Several backed off to where they were at the back edge of the building, only a step or two from falling backwards into the water.

Weathers glanced down at Gage, “Damn nice shot!”

“Thanks. You’re real good with the gun you’ve got, too.”

“Weathers qualified with the 303 higher than anyone other than Staff Sergeant Fox,” Hulbert stated with clear praise. “Now Mr. Westbrook, did we hear the last two inside jump ship?”

The teen looked down and nodded, “Yeah, Flynn and his older brother broke off a door, put some stuff on it and are using it as a makeshift raft…”

“Do they have a rifle, Mr. Westbrook?”

“Don’t see one, but Mr. Warren, Flynn’s older brother, had a .38 and he has his backpack with him.”

“Thank you for being honest, Mr. Westbrook.”

The kid continued to blink and rub at his eyes. He coughed again before speaking. “My first name is Westbrook, sir… Most just call me Brook.”

“Brook, keep your hands off your eyes. I know it doesn’t sound right, but you are making it worse.” He paused and looked around. “For now I want the smart one, Brook here, to gather all the rifles, knives and packs, put them on this side of the building and back off. The rest of you pull out your pockets, so we can see they are empty. Once we get the weapons over here and away from you all, I will give each of you a once over to make sure you have nothing dangerous to us, then and only then will our lieutenant come up and tell you what is going to happen. Also, as I just told Brook, I know it’s hard, but wiping your eyes isn’t going to help. In fact, it makes it worse since the CS is on your hands and in your clothing. The more you rub, the worse the burning is going to get. If you have fully closed canteens use them to rinse your faces and flush your eyes. It will help and it’s all I am going to let any of you do for now.”

Gage stayed down but kept the shotgun pointed at Westbrook as he gathered the rifles, packs and took knives from over a dozen kids and adults. A muzzle motion from Hulbert was all it took for him to put the small arsenal in a small pile on the side where the Fox had moved up to almost touch the building.

Hulbert jumped over, collected the weapons and tossed them over to the Fox, getting a frown from Gage as he did so.

Seeing the look he momentarily frowned, then gave the boy a nod, “Tossing possibly loaded weapons, not such a good idea, huh?”

“Dad would have grounded me forever,” Gage grumbled.

“Not one of my brighter moves,” the man admitted, “thanks for keeping me in line.”

Seeing Gage give him a genuine smile, he gave a sheepish grin, then motioned for everyone to come up one at a time. He went through all pockets and the quintet of packs, while Gage and Weathers kept weapons trained on each person as they came up to get inspected. He did take a few extra seconds to pour some water on Westbrook’s face and the bloodied boy with the red shirt. Finally he checked over those who had been shot.

The man was too busy moving his neck back and forth, with obvious pain to put up any resistance. However, Hulbert had to kick the boy who Gage had shot and knocked down so he could pull off a boot knife.

The boy’s father gripped his neck and started to say something, but stopped as both Gage and Weathers pointed weapons right at him. However, if looks could kill, Gage was beyond certain Hulbert would have been cremated on the spot.

After nearly fifteen minutes Hulbert hopped back over to the roof of the Fox APC and called out, “We’re as clear as we can get them without sweeping the building, Lieutenant! Three decided to swim for it, though.”

Grader glanced over to Vern and Angus. “Keep your eyes open and stay behind me. I think it will be more calming if you don’t have weapons out, but at least keep sidearms with you and be ready to pull them. Once I am done, you can say whatever you want.”

While Angus slung his shotgun, Vernon elected to go without a rifle. In front of them, Grader pulled himself up the ladder with his good hand. The smell of the remnants of the CS gas caused his nose to run and eyes to water a little, but much of it had dissipated. “So, Hulbert what of the three who made a break for it?”

Hulbert glanced over at Westbrook, “Where are they at, Brook?”

The teen turned and looked. “Flynn and his brother are using their feet like a motorboat and probably about a third of the way to land. Mr. Cunningham has rolled over on his back with his pack on his stomach and is being pulled downstream by the current. He’s about as far away, but way more east and way further from land than Flynn and his brother. He may be in trouble. Hard to tell, though. He’s real strong and a super good swimmer. None of them are any kind of threat to you, sir.”

A thin, fairly tall younger boy looked over his shoulder and spoke, “Dad?” as if realizing for the first time his father wasn’t on the roof with him. Several of the other boys rolled their eyes as the clearly confused kid continued to rub at his eyes and look around while whimpering.

Westbrook moved over to the kid, “Dougie, your dad is swimming for shore. He’ll be OK.” He then pulled the kid’s hands away from his face. “We aren’t allowed to touch our face.”

“But my eyes really hurt Brook!” The somewhat challenged boy argued as he tried to pull free, only to have his hands easily pulled back down by the much stronger boy.

“Dougie, no!” Westbrook spoke with a commanding voice, “We aren’t allowed to. It’s against the rules of the game!”

“What kind of game is this, Brook?”

“A mean one, just like most of those Shepherd comes up with. You can do it Dougie. Once we get permission to get some water, we’ll wash your eyes.”

At this point Angus couldn’t stand it. He pulled his canteen, moved forward, pulling free of Grader as he did so. “Brook, or whatever you name is, take this and wash his eyes.”

“But I don’t want to lose the game,” Dougie protested.

“He says you went long enough Dougie. You won,” Westbrook stated as he gave Angus a grateful nod and started washing out the younger boy’s eyes.

Just behind Westbrook and Dougie, a fourteen-year-old snorted, “Fucking retard…” He didn’t get a chance to say more since Angus took a step back toward him and delivered a devastating elbow directly into the kid’s face, flattening his nose and knocking him flat onto his back. Another kid jumped up, only to fall back just as quickly from an 303 impact round from Weathers. A third kid moved forward but just as quickly doubled over from a beanbag round to the gut from Gage.

The heavyset kid who fell after getting shot in the leg earlier, managed to stand, albeit with a nasty limp, and spit at Westbrook.

The act of defiance was extremely short lived. He found out the hard way just how strong Angus was. The older and bigger boy took a single shot from Angus’ fist, and went down to his knees instantly as air rushed out of his lungs. At this point everyone else backed well away from Angus, who cocked his fist back and slammed it into the upper chest of the mean-natured teen who was down on his knees trying to breathe. The force of the blow caused an audible popping sound from the chest area and sent the kid back hard enough to hit his head and knock him cold.

The husky boy’s father, Mr. Hague, didn’t even get fully to his feet. Instead, his first move was all it took for Weathers to turn slightly and put another impact round into the man. This one hit the guy’s shoulder, spun and knocked him down. Had the man not grabbed onto one of the other adults and gotten a quick hand he would have ended up in the water. He stayed down, looking up with a mask of fury, but common sense and or pain overrode his anger. He stayed down holding his shoulder with one hand and the back of his neck with the other.

The heaviest adult made an unexpected power play. He used the distractions to his advantage to attempt to charge Angus. The only problem was, Angus was a football player used to keeping his eyes open for other dangers even as he focused on making a tackle. The other problem was the guy didn’t realize the extremely strong boy was in an adrenaline-filled zone much like Angus forced himself into when crushing quarterbacks.

Making matters worse, some of the training Mr. Korbal drilled into Angus came to the forefront. Without really thinking, Angus unslung his shotgun, grabbed the underside of the barrel with his right hand, while his left hand found the top of the weapon’s butt. He dropped to a knee and slammed the bottom of the butt upwards into the onrushing man’s groin using the whole weapon as a large lever. The force and power generated was enough to lift the almost two-hundred and fifty pound man off the ground by a foot.

Angus jumped up and slammed his shoulder into the man before he could do more than squeal. The large man fell back hard and curled into a ball with both hands clutching his manhood.

Angus spun with the shotgun in his right hand, while his left clenched into fist daring someone else to come at him. “Anyone else want-a piece of me or be stupid enough to say something nasty about Dougie?”

Even though several of the teens stared at Angus with resentment, every single one of them edged back as he turned to face them.

Grader let out a low whistle, “I’d say the answer is no, Angus… Oh, and nice shooting Weathers.”

Right behind the lieutenant, Vernon snorted, “So much for Angus being a kid spokesman… Aren’t you glad you brought me?”

A smirk crossed Grader’s mouth, “Yes I am, but I have to say Angus pretty much took care of any problem children.”

“And probably prevented the fat dude from ever having any more,” Vernon added with a snicker.

Hulbert noticeably shuddered, “Geesh, I was told you are the quiet, nice one, Vern!”

Vernon’s grin only got bigger, “I am!”

“Oh, brother…” Grader snorted out with a shake of his head before turning his attention to the clearly cowed assembly up on top of the building. “OK, people, this is what is going to happen. But first let me make this clear. We have heard from several we have rescued you all took over most of the food and stranded them out here in the flooded area. We also found some dead, all of which are on your heads. This really puts you on our shit-list. As of now, you follow our rules, or, well, you follow our rules after we make you. To start out with, any of you wearing or carrying any scout stuff, toss it over. My scouts over here don’t want you giving them a bad name, and frankly I agree. None of you deserve to wear any kind of uniform with such a long history of helping others. For you kids who are about to lose shirts, shorts, and belts we have some used, dry and clean clothing for you. Adults, well after what you have done, if you don’t have spare clothing, too damned bad.”

Seeing lots of hesitation Grader shook his head, “Weathers, if everyone is not out of uniform stuff in the next two minutes, shoot those who haven’t taken scout stuff off and tossed it over here.”

Seeing the young man pull up the 303 and pan it across all of them, was all it took for clothing to be quickly pulled off.

Grader nodded, “Glad to see you all are so motivated.” He motioned for Vernon to toss over a couple of bags of clothing. “Only one change for each of you kids. While you sort through and find stuff to put on, Weathers and Hulbert are going to go down and collect all firearms and ammunition, while a few of you tie the canoes together to make three dual hulls. I used to do this as a kid, so I know it works well. It will keep them far more stable, and thus safer for you since you are going to take them well downstream unless you want to get shot at by real bullets. Since there are seven canoes, we’ll take the last one.

“As for your stuff, we will put all the weapons in one set and ammo in another. We’ll also let you grab any blades my men took from you just before we let you head out downstream.

“Once we are certain we have the firearms secured and safe from you trying to use them on us, Hulbert and Weathers are going to take you each down, two at a time. You each get three minutes to gather as much as you want from below, but no uniform items. Angus will give your packs a quick look through as you jump into one of the canoes. If he finds a single uniform item, or even a tee shirt with a scout emblem on it, we’ll take your whole pack and stick you in a canoe with nothing. This means if you have packs with scout stuff already in them, take it out as soon as you get back up top.”

At this point Brook spoke up, “Guys, wait to get dressed until we get back topside or you’ll be soaked in the nasty smelling water and the tear gas down there.”

Grader’s eyebrows went up, “Good thinking young man…” He stopped and looked over to the roof hatch as Weathers and Hulbert came up with eleven more rifles and over thirty boxes of a hundred rounds each. “Is that all of them?”

“These were all on a shelf with the boxes of ammunition. But there could be more down there. There’s lots of food and other stuff on every high point and there is over a foot and a half of water inside. It’s pretty nasty, even with a gas mask on, sir.”

“OK, normally I’d take the time to find out why you all didn’t just pack up and leave, but we are burning lots of daylight and it doesn’t really matter at this point. You are all leaving regardless of desire to do so. Hulbert, Weathers, get them down and let them load up with as much as they want to carry. They each have three minutes. For those who got stupid and are too injured, pick someone to gear up for you.”

While Hulbert and Weathers quickly rotated through, giving everyone a chance to grab some kind of pack, food, canteen, water purification pills and a host of other things. While this was being done, all the weapons were transferred into canoes. For the most part it was easy, since most of the kids and all the adults had packs up on shelves with their shoes right next to them. Those who didn’t, at least knew where shoes were and there was plenty of extra stuff to make quick packs out of.

Angus, however, grabbed two of the newest rifles and four boxes of ammo out of the canoes. He handed them over to Grader. “I think those two kids from the tower, Darren and Ross, deserve these.”

Grader noticed both Vernon and Gage nod in agreement, so he shrugged and grabbed them, “Sounds like a fine idea to me.”

The lieutenant turned his full attention to the remaining group of scouts and leaders, “So here is the way this is going to work. Now that you all have stuff from below, you are going to jump into the canoes. If you look downstream you can see the flood area narrows and there is a bend with obvious high ground off to the north. My range finder puts the big tree at the edge of the water at just over a mile and a third. You can either pull out there or keep going, but if you attempt to angle toward dry ground sooner, we will open up on you. Furthermore, the two canoes with the rifles are to stay at least fifty feet away from the canoes with the .22 rounds. If we see one set of canoes get closer to another or if you try to toss ammo over to the canoes with the rifles, we will fire at you. Once at the bend, you are free to do whatever in the hell you want, but I highly recommend you don’t go toward any town with a Walmart. As best as we can tell all of them within Kansas and Nebraska have been nuked.

“Now, before you get ready to take off, there is one more major issue. We have first hand reports of you trying to grab one of the younger ones from one of the towers. So I need to know if any of you were forced to join this group. Now is your chance to speak up. No one is going to stop you.”

Two hands went up, including the kid with the red shirt.

Off to Grader’s side, Gage noticed the only healthy adult put his hand on the shoulder of a boy with long black hair. The look in the boy’s grey eyes was one Gage knew way too well. It mirrored his own more than a few times when he was over at his mother’s boss’ house. Without any warning, he brought up his shotgun and blasted the man just below the neck. He then stood and fired again before anyone could stop him, this time the beanbag round struck the guy just off to the left side of his groin. Even as most of the others moved to get between the two, Gage boldly took a step forward, “Touch him again, asswipe, and my next shot will be a few inches to the right of my last one!” He then glanced at the youngster the man had grabbed the shoulder of, even as he chambered another round, “Kid, get back behind me now. He ain’t touching you again as long as I have any say in it!”

The boy quickly scrambled to get behind Gage. At the same time Westbrook motioned for a fourth boy to move over to get behind Weathers and Hulbert. The eleven-year-old gave a single nervous glance, but another head jerk was all it took to get the kid moving.

Hulbert noted the fear in the kid’s eyes, and used a free hand to gently but firmly push the youngster behind him while his 303 came up threateningly.

Westbrook looked over at the other two who held up their hands, “Tommy, Gifford, go. They are giving you a chance, so take it.”

The boy in the red shirt quickly stood and limped to get over to the Fox.

At this point Vernon stepped forward and helped haul him over. As he noticed the relief and desperation to get away in the smaller boy’s eyes, he pulled his sidearm while speaking to the boy, “You’re safe. I’ll shoot the threat or anyone who even looks like they are thinking about hurting you.” He hardened as he added, “And it will be with real bullets!”

Westbrook gave Vernon a slight nod of thanks before he once again glanced at a boy who kept looking back over his shoulder, “Tommy, after this I don’t think I’ll be able to help you much. Your better shot is with them and you know it.”

The boy took a deep nervous breath, grabbed the pack he had been allowed to fill up from below, and looked back and forth. After a few seconds, he shook his head while edging away from everyone.

However another youngster pulled away from the group, “Take me with you! Please!”

After a nod from Grader, Vernon grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him over. “Gage, come back over to the floating tank. You really need to back off and reload. You can’t have too many rounds left.”

Gage almost pulled the trigger again at the man who was now thrashing back and forth in agony after taking two hard beanbag rounds, but Hulbert grabbed him by his collar, “Listen to Vern, Gage. Take a breath and reload. If I counted right you are down to three shots.”

Gage pulled free of Hulbert, and stepped back, but just couldn’t stop himself. As he got to the edge of the building and before he fully got behind the line of adults, he fired once more. The round slammed dead center into the man’s stomach. He hopped back to the Fox while growling. “And that’s for doing what I know you did!”

Hulbert glanced back with a raised eyebrow, and watched as Gage rapidly shoved new beanbag rounds into the shotgun. “You OK, buddy?”

“I’m fine,” Gage snarled.

“No you’re not. Now go down to a knee and take some deep breaths. I want and need you watching my back. There’s no way you can cover me or Weathers properly with as much rage as I am hearing in your voice.” Noting Gage glare at him, he stared right back into the boy’s eyes. “I said take a knee and calm the fuck down!”

Grader almost said something, but three things happened within moments to make him hold his tongue. First Angus held up a hand to stop him. Second Gage briefly shook with fury, but did exactly as told, and last and far from least, Grader noticed the biggest teen edging over toward Westbrook.

Grader pulled his pistol and pointed it at the older teen, “Son, I don’t have rubber rounds, so back off before you force me to do something I might even regret.” He then focused in on Westbrook, while noting angry faces on several of the kids staring at him. “Brook, jump over here. It’s beyond clear to me you are not safe if you stay with them.”

“You have to let me take Dougie…”

At this point Weathers surprised everyone when he spoke up, “Get him over there, Brook. I’ll take care of him if needed. Anyone else you want to speak up for?”

Westbrook looked around for a moment, “Kamron, Aden, Kip, come on. You don’t want to stick around these guys.” He paused and focused in on the boy who had been taken by the group but didn’t come over with the other three. “Tommy, you really need to get over here too.”

Of the four boys, one moved quickly, two others exchanged glances before shaking their heads. Tommy edged even further back from everyone. “Just let me go…”

“Alone?” Grader couldn’t help but ask.

The boy looked up with tears in his greenish eyes, “Yes… please just let me go.”

Grader lowered his pistol. “Son, there is no way you can head out on your own. What’s left of this world is not safe for anyone to go it alone, let alone a kid.”

“Like it was safe before?”

“It’s way worse now and going alone is not a good idea,” Angus stated before turning to the lieutenant. “But if we force him to come with us or stay with them, it’s no different than what they did, sir.”

“If it’s really what he wants, give him a gun and a box of ammo. Let him grab some extra food from below and let him have the lone canoe,” Vernon agreed. “You’d be way better with us though…”

Tommy shook his head, “You took over just like they took me! I want to go home to Lenora! I know the way… Please!”

Grader spoke up, “Look, son, just because you know the way doesn’t mean you can get there. What you want to do is flatly a horrible idea. At this point at least half the bridges are gone, roads are washed out, fresh water has to be made, and there is lots of other dangers. Lenora is west of us by quite a bit and we have no idea what is there at this point. However, if you really don’t want to go with us, being away from these morons has to be better than sticking with them. No one here is going to stop you. Vern has a viable option, one I am very reluctantly willing to agree to.”

“And you’ll let me go?”

“Yes,” Grader stated with a resigned sigh. “Weathers, take him back down and give him another few minutes to grab some extra food and other stuff. Angus, move a .22 over to the lone canoe. We’ll stick a box of ammo into his pack.” Grader looked right at the kid, “The ammo stays in the pack until you are well away from us, understood?”

The boy simply nodded before going below to grab a second backpack. He filled it with mostly food, but added a few other things including a pair of solar-recharging landscape lights, a hatchet, and two large bottles of disinfectant dish soap.

Angus helped put the heavy pack into the canoe and lowered some extra canned food and a can opener Weather grabbed for the kid while speaking, “If you change your mind, go to Jennings. Tell them you know Angus or Vernon. Hank is the gas station owner and the sheriff is his dad. They will take you in, no questions.”

“Thanks, but I am going home…”

“If it doesn’t work out, Jennings is northwest of Lenora and it has food, water, and safety. Mr. Korbal, our patrol master, got hurt so he couldn’t come with us. He is in Jennings too.” Angus let out a long breath and pushed the canoe to help get it off the building, “Just be careful and remember to use my name, Angus, if you go to Jennings!” He stood and watched as the boy showed a great deal of expertise in a canoe. The boy angled southwest, going against the flow of water, but still kept it moving forward. After a few minutes of silence, as if everyone was hoping Tommy would change his mind, Angus looked over at other two Westbrook had spoken up for, “Last chance, guys. You are either with us or them.”

Westbrook motioned for the other two to come over, “Kamron, Kip, come on…”

Grader cleared his throat, “Brook, not another word. It has to be their decision. I don’t want any pressure put on from anyone on either side. Just like what I allowed Tommy to do, this is one of those times where their decisions will literally be choices they will have to live with.”

When neither moved, Grader shrugged, “OK, so be it. All of you get to the canoes. The one with the rifles gets filled first and pushes off. The set with the ammo goes last. A couple of you will have to help some of those stupid enough to get shot by my people.” He looked down and shook his head. “The fat dude will, here, really needs help to do much of anything, let alone get in a canoe, since there ain’t no chance of him moving himself after the colossal ball-busting Angus gave him.”

All this got was a moan out of the man, who had to be dragged to the edge, then slid down into the back of one of the canoes with the help of the biggest two teens since the other adults were all still reeling after taking multiple less-than-lethal rounds. Had Lt. Grader not ordered they be tied together to make dual hull boats, there was no doubt the canoe would have capsized, but fortunately for all involved it remained steady.

While it was clear many of those in the canoes wanted to say something, especially to Westbrook, none were stupid enough to do so. They pushed off, one set at a time. Each group did pretty much the same thing. They allowed the slow current to pull them down toward the swifter moving water to the northeast, while slowly getting a feel for how to maneuver the dual hulls. All looked back at one point or another with mixed expressions of anger, fear, and even some guilt written on their sullen faces.

While Weather and Hulbert went below to bring up the rest of the food on the shelves, along with any other useful items, Angus and Vernon helped to move what was brought up over to the top of the Fox.

Gage offered to join, but Grader pointed to the canoes. “Your job is to make sure they keep going, don’t get close to each other until they get to the bend, and don’t move ammo over to the canoes with the rifles.”

Gage moved to the edge of the Fox and observed the departing canoes, while keeping his rifle trained on the set with the rifles. However, it was totally unneeded. Any fight those departing may have had left in them was redirected into immediate survival. This was made more urgent because of dimming sky in front of them to the east and the threat of storms moving in behind them from the west.

As soon as the boxes of food were stacked on the top of the APC, Grader backed away from the building and dropped off those from the top of the APC along with the food. He couldn’t help but note those he had just allowed to go had been sitting on enough to feed everyone in the mess hall and those he had rescued for at least a couple of weeks. For a moment he thought about going after them, but the waste of fuel and wear on the vehicle overweighed the idea. Instead, he angled toward the smaller building. Before he even got close, a formerly white tee shirt was held out of one of the windows attached to a pole.

Hulbert looked down at the window with his 303 pointed at it while shouting, “Can you get out of there?”

A man responded, “Yeah, over at the canoes, but there are only three of us left in here. Four if you count a boy with a bullet in his leg.”

Hulbert frowned, “It sounded like there were a lot more.”

The man continued to speak loudly, but didn’t have to shout as the Fox got closer and power was reduced to the engine. “Four days ago, yeah, but over the last three nights we shuttled most over to the shore over on the south side. We also picked up several stranded by flooding and got them to shore, but could only get to those to the east of us without risking getting shot at. There are still two small groups to the northwest and a lone kid on what is left of the earthen windbreak to our southwest. We saw you clearing the far west side of the camp, so other than those three spots, we don’t know of anyone else.”

“OK, thanks for the heads up. Now, do you mind if we check the building?”

“Not at all, but even if we did, after hearing and seeing what you did over at the dining hall, we’d be damn fools to try to stop you.”

Hulbert snickered, “You make a good point. Got any firearms in there?”

“Two .22s, my service Beretta and my wife’s Ruger. We also kept one of the compound bows for Casper.”

“You a cop?”

“Federal Fish and Game Warden, so was my wife, but she didn’t make it…”

Weathers cringed at this, “Sorry…”

“Nothing anyone can do about it now.”

“Still… we’re real sorry to hear of your loss.” Hulbert stopped and cringed as he saw the man at the window wipe at the corner of his eye. “So what’s your name, Mister?”

“Clyde, Clyde Booker. I got a thirteen-year-old, Casper McMillan along with Jackson Hooker and Sherman Weaver down here with me. Sherman was the camp’s head groundskeeper and Jackson’s a volunteer firefighter and paramedic out of Phillipsburg who got most of his campers to land but swam back to grab Casper and two others. He only got to Casper and barely managed to get him here… Anyhow, you’re in charge. We’ll put our weapons up on a shelf and back away, but be damned careful sliding in here. Water gets a lot deeper only a few yards out from the building.”

Hunter, Luke, Sergeant Haley Collins, Senior Airman Nancy Arnold
 

Hunter frowned deeply as Sergeant Collins pointed to a badly damaged farmhouse with a long ago fallen down barn to the west of the house and another in serious disrepair to the east. As she turned off onto the dirt road leading to it, Hunter finally spoke up, “Where are we going?”

“Hunter,” Sgt. Collins spoke forcefully, “we are just about out of daylight, it is raining to beat all hell, and we can’t risk headlights. We would be a beacon for every idiot with a firearm or even a knife within ten miles to come check us out.”

“But you said Devin and Zeek are hurt!”

“They are, but us getting killed, washed off the road, or stuck in mud isn’t going to help them. Sergeant Fox will take good care of them and keep them safe until we can get to them tomorrow.”

“But…”

A woman Hunter had met only hours earlier spoke up with some annoyance, “Kid, how about you let the adults make the decisions?”

Hunter glared at the female as he instantly fired back, “What a great idea! Just look around. Trusting adults is what got us into this mess to begin with!”

As the woman’s head jerked with a degree of shock at the verbal barb to look into the back of the Humvee, Sgt. Collins busted up in laughter, “Airman Arnold, you may want to stop before you dig yourself an even deeper hole.

“And Hunter, this is not up for discussion. We are going to stop for the night. Now get your head screwed back on and get ready to check this place out. We need to sweep it to make sure it is as abandoned as it looks, find a place to hide the Hummer, bed down, and get some rest. We’ll hit the road again at first light. Understood?”

Hunter’s head dropped, “Yes ma’am, understood.”

“Good. Now it looks to me like the barn on the left is open and it’s sturdy enough to park. I want you and Luke to stick with the Hummer while Airman Arnold and I do a quick sweep and check to the house. While we’re gone, get all our gear and take the fuel cans off the side. We can’t afford for anything to be stolen while we sleep.”

Hunter looked over the property as the vehicle angled toward the still standing barn. The house itself was well off the main road and was surrounded by junk cars, many appeared to have been scrounged for parts and were rusting away. A few others looked newer and by all appearances had been worked on recently. In fact, a Tundra was still up on jack stands, but the stands themselves had started to sink into the mud. As best as he could tell there was no tracks in the muddy road or around the property. “Looks like no one’s been here for a while.”

“Which is great, but we still need to be make sure and be real careful,” Sgt. Collins reminded everyone.

“I’ll take first watch,” Hunter offered.

“We’ll grab some chow and figure out a watch schedule once we are secure, but we’ll do so from the house unless we find a reason we can’t or don’t want to use it tonight. This barn isn’t going to keep us dry and I sure don’t want to sleep inside the Hummer. We’ll chain it and bar the wheel.”

As soon as the vehicle came to a stop inside the dilapidated barn, Hunter and Luke hopped out the back with rifles ready. The fact both boys had to search for an area to not get rained on, even though they were inside the structure, proved Sgt. Collins had the right idea about it not being a good place spend the night in.

However, Hunter’s thoughts were brought to a quick close as he noticed the other female had her older M-16 over her shoulder, “Um, ma’am, your rifle isn’t going to help you if you aren’t ready to shoot it.”

Sgt. Collins looked over, “Airman, Hunter’s spot on. Keep your weapon at the ready. We have no idea what we are going to encounter out here.”

The woman ignored Hunter and instead focused on Sgt. Collins. “You know, I only got a day of range time and two refreshers with this as part of my Air Force training, right?”

Hunter cocked his head to the side, “But you’re in the military, right?”

The woman frowned deeply as she snapped, “Yeah, in physical medical, not as front line fighter!”

“But the Army medics…”

“I’m not Army. My basic was like half the time they have and I work in a hospital, not a med tent in a combat zone!”

“You work where you need to now Airman,” Sgt. Collins corrected the woman. “We came back to get you because we need a medic and you’re it. But for now how about you stay here. I’ll go check things out.”

Hunter shook his head, “Never alone, ma’am. It’s one of Mr. Korbal’s ten rules. Even to take a dump, never go alone.”

“Good rule to have, Hunter, but…”

Hunter put his pack into the back seat, secured his vest and checked to make sure he had his pistol and could easily reach extra ammo. “I’ll come with. Luke, you and Ms. Arnold keep watch and do a sweep of the barn.”

“It’s Senior Airman Arnold,” the woman grumbled.

“Sorry ma’am,” Hunter stated seriously, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Airman or ma’am should be enough,” Sgt. Collins stated showing some displeasure with SrA Arnold’s tone. “Actually, I’d like to see you use our first names, especially after all you have done. However, I’m not about to have a repeat of said conversation. Instead of wasting my time, and since you insist I not go alone, come on. We’ll check the house and do a quick sweep of the cars before we figure out where we are going to sleep.”

It took nearly an hour before the place was confirmed to be secure and totally abandoned. Hunter was drenched by the time they got everything out of the Hummer and into the main building. The house was in rough shape with heavy weather damage and a few broken windows, but otherwise was intact. It was also obvious whoever had lived in the place had taken off quickly several days prior. There were open drawers, stuff all over the floors of the rooms, and the pantry was bare. Where the windows were broken, the stuff on the floor had some mold on it and all the dry areas were dusty with no footprints or smudges in the dust on furniture. However, there was some towels in a closet next to the upper bathroom and three bedrooms with beds. Even better, one was clearly a boy’s room and had some left behind clothing just slightly big for Hunter and about right for Luke in a dresser. This allowed both boys to towel off and change into dry clothing.

Sergeant Collins and Senior Airman Arnold chanced pulling a propane grill into the kitchen and cooked everyone a warm meal of canned stew, before making sure Luke and Hunter took a washcloth bath with rain water heated over the grill, and brushed their teeth with water collected from the steam.

Hunter tried to take first watch, but was firmly told no. Instead of going to sleep, he moved down to an inside room with no windows, lit a couple of candles he found in a cupboard, and pulled out his journal.

It’s now just after 9:15 at night 17 days since the Day of N. I am in a farmhouse somewhere southeast of WaKeeney and southwest of Ellis. There was another gun fight this afternoon, and I know I killed another person or two, probably more. I am not sure how I am ever going to make this all up to God. But much like before, the people I shot were shooting at us and trying to steal stuff. When I get back to Hill City I am going to see if there is minister I can talk this all over with.

While I am sure someone may want to hear more about the gun battle, I am just going to breeze over it. The alert sounded in town and Luke and I were grabbed to help be back up. Some badguys wanted to take trucks filled with food from a train Lieutenant Grader’s national guard guys found. It was a real ambush attempt with people set in three spots, but like many badguys they didn’t really think about what and who they were trying to steal from. I mean, the trucks were being guarded by a tank with a big gun and when we showed up with powerful machineguns and more armored vehicles, you would think people with just rifles and handguns would stop and run, but nope.

It was about as one sided a fight as it could have been. Sergeant Jimenez got nicked by a bullet and the badguys blew out a couple of tires on a semi, but that was all they really did to us. I know we killed at least nine and two others had to have drowned after the truck they were riding in the back of crashed and they were tossed into the river. I bet the number was way higher than nine though. Luke and I were shooting at gun flashes and I stopped at least 2 and Luke 1 for sure.

Sergeant Jimenez ripped into the same building and one other with a machinegun and a woman came out of it after the fight covered in blood. One of the Bradley tanks took out a couple of cars and I heard a couple more crash into each other as they tried to get out of the arc of fire, so yeah, there was way more dead. The good, and yes there is lots of good, we got a full semi and two smaller army trucks filled to the top with canned goods to Hill City. I think the back of the Stryker was also full of food, but that is just a guess.

There was also a couple of larger non-army trucks and a trio of pickups driven by people from Hill City. They came up after the fight moving fast. I guess they got some trucks abandoned on I-70 running, and filled them up with stuff they had taken off the train but didn’t have room for in the army trucks or semi. The backs were filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of boxes of Shurfine macaroni and cheese. The only reason I know this is one of the big boxes fell out onto the road as they raced past the choke point we kept set up to protect them and it broke open. So the good things is, lots of long lasting food got into Hill City. Another good thing is Luke and I each grabbed a few boxes, cause we both love mac and cheese. (pretty sure I saw Private Mosley sneak a few boxes too as he was tasked to gather all the brass he could find so it could be reloaded)

Since Sergeant Jimenez was hit, and we needed to get moving. Sergeant Collins offered to take us herself, but Master Sergeant Keating told her by radio to come back to grab a medic. So here we are: just me, Luke, Sergeant Collins and a woman who says she is in the airforce as some kind of medical person. I wouldn’t believe her, which is probably unGodly of me, but she sure doesn’t seem like someone who is in the military. She can barely hold a rifle right, and as I went to bed, I heard Sergeant Collins talking her through how to clean her M-16. However, Sergeant Collins says Airman Arnold is airforce, so I guess not everyone in the military learns how to fight and handle guns and junk.

One way or the other, I found out there are 5 airforce people in Hill City. They joined Lieutenant Grader’s group back at Norton’s National Guard Armory. While Airman Arnold doesn’t seem to like kids, Luke was able to ask enough questions during our ride to find out all 5 turned 21 in May, and decided to take vacation. I think they call it leave not vacation, but whatever. The important part, I guess, is they went to Las Vegas as a group to celebrate being able to gamble and drink. Not real sure why anyone would want to waste money like that. I’m sure God would be happier if they had taken the time and money they wasted and helped others in some way. However, as Mom always says, what people do with the money they earn is no one’s business, which is the argument she always uses when I want to spend money I earn on something Dad doesn’t like or think I need.

But I am, as always, bouncing around. Sorry about that. The 5 airforce people were on their way back from Las Vegas to Whiteman Airforce Base, when they got what Senior Airman Arnold says was a recall order. All five of their phones went off at about the same time, and when they answered, they were relayed to an operation center. When they said where they were, the person on the other end told them to pull off the road and someone would call them back.

It sounds like it didn’t take long. A major from Whiteman Airforce Base called them back. He told them they were officially off leave and they needed to report in to the nearest military installation as part of a readiness drill.

(Some, drill. I wonder if the Major knew what was about to happen or if he was just doing what someone above him told him to do. As much as I would like to know, it doesn’t matter now)

The major found out exactly where they were. As it turns out the closest military place to them was the National Guard Armory at Norton. The major gave them directions and promised them the guard base would know they were coming. Big surprise, they got there and no one knew anything about them, who they were or why they were told to come. However, since all the national guard had been called to come in, Lieutenant Grader told them to join his group. They found them some older gear that was stuck in a back section of the armory and tagged for disposal, but it never happened which I guess is a good thing. Master Sergeant Keating went into the gun lock-up and found them some older, but very usable weapons, so all five have M-16s and .45 pistols. They also have older flack jackets (or is it flak? Not real sure. I’ll have to ask Sergeant Collins) But for now I’ll just call them flack since that looks more right to me. So instead of the new body armor like the national guard has, all the airforce people are in flack jackets. They also have on something called web gear, kind of reminds me of fishing vests with extra harnesses to hang extra stuff off of, kind of like the old army movies of Vietnam, but it seems to work just fine.

The problem is, this Airman Arnold knows less about guns than anyone I’ve ever met. This seems totally wrong to me, since she is in the military. I mean Mr. Korbal taught us more in a few days while he was super hurt, than this woman knows. To be honest, I knew more about guns before I even met Mr. Korbal than this lady does. She doesn’t even keep her rifle ready and seems kind of afraid of it. I sure hope we don’t get into any kind of fight where we need her to do something. If we do, me and Luke will have to help Sergeant Collins and keep Airman Arnold back or have her cover one small area. Honestly, I’d prefer to have Devin in a gunfight over this woman. However, she is what I guess is the airforce’s version of a medic, and right now that is what we need her for since it sounds like both Devin and Zeki are hurt. So if shooting starts I’ll just have to do my best to protect her.

This leads me to what we are doing out here in the first place. We are trying to get to Ellis, we need to get to Ellis. Zeki and Devin are there after the train they were going to park in WaKeeney got ambushed or something. I don’t have much detail, but for some reason the train hit a truck and caught on fire. Zeki decided it was too dangerous to stop so he kept going. They ended up in Ellis, only fifteen to twenty miles east of WaKeeney along I-70. But according to Sergeant Keating, who is in radio contact with Sergeant Fox, they are stuck on the south side of Ellis and the town is cut in half by a flooded river. As bad as all this is, it sounds like Devin got hurt bad when the train hit the truck and Zeki is hurt too, just not as bad.

This means we have to find a way to get to the south side Ellis, while the interstate is on the north side. I bet Sergeant Collins drove close to a hundred miles, checking every road heading in the direction of the south side of Ellis this afternoon. Most of the time we had to turn around after we found a bridge was missing or a road totally washed out. Just as it started to get dark we found what looks to be a way through. It’s even a paved road and while there was one spot where the water was running over the road, Sergeant Collins chanced it and we made it through. But it got dark on us and the rain is falling real hard so Sergeant Collins decided to stop at this abandoned farmhouse. I bet we could have made it, but I know she is making the right decision, even though I don’t like it. Driving at night with headlights on would get way too much attention and without we could end up in big trouble with all the flooding over the roads. Still it is enough to make me want to pull my hair out!

Hunter yawned, and put his head into his hands. He woke several hours later in a bed next to Luke wearing only a tee-shirt and underwear. He didn’t remember falling asleep, and had no idea how he got undressed and into bed with Luke. However, as he started to sit up while saying “My journal!” Sergeant Collins spoke up, “Relax buddy. I put your journal on top of your pack. It’s next to the bed with your rifle, just the way I’ve seen you like to have it. Now unless you need to go to the bathroom or grab something to eat, get some more sleep. It is still hours before daylight.”

“But I should take a watch.”

“No. You fell asleep sitting at the table and have an ink smudge on your cheek to prove it. You were exhausted and still are. I’ll have Airman Arnold take over while the two of you get a full night’s sleep.”

“You’re going to trust her on a watch?”

“Hunter, she may not be a front line combatant, but she’s still in the U.S. military. She can handle a watch. All she has to do is wake me if there is any kind of problem.”

“But I can take a watch…”

“You can, and when you do I’ll trust you fully. But right now, you’re a boy who had a long day and should get some more sleep. I didn’t carry you up here, undress you and tuck you in next to your friend to get any lip out of you, so close those pretty grey eyes of yours and get back to sleep.”

While Kyle likes feedback, he really likes it in the form of criticism. If you don’t like something, find errors, or just want to bitch about something, email him at: KyleArrons at CastleRoland dot net. If you are only reading this and you are enjoying the story, you may still let him know at the above email addy.

Follow Kyle on Twitter: @k_m_aarons