After the Fall: Jason's Tale (12 page)

The small gang headed out for the farmhouse to the north
from where they had seen the smoke. Nate, their leader, decided they should go
through the fields, not along the road; that way he figured they would reach
the farmhouse from uphill, assuming most of the houses were close to the road.
It was not easy going, and they grumbled as they trudged through overgrown
fields and pushed through the thick hedgerows. It took the better part of the
day. Along the way they stopped to talk about what they would do when they came
to the farmhouse. Zack suggested that they wait until the next day, but that
meant sleeping in the open and no one liked that idea. In the end they decided
to attack at night, when everyone was asleep. From the last field they could
see the top of the farmhouse, brightly lit in the late afternoon sun. They
moved on to the tree line and stopped. The house was well up from the road, not
downhill from where they were positioned, but that did not alter their plans.
They could tell the house was inhabited. They stopped in the cover of the trees
to wait for the dark.

Catherine was up on the roof keeping lookout, and she saw
the figures—four of them—a half mile away, crossing a field. The sight startled
her and her stomach tightened with dread. She quickly came down the ladder to
tell Jason. He immediately set out the weapons and made sure each one was
loaded with extra ammunition close at hand.

“They probably won’t attack until night,” he said. “My guess
is that they’re surprised to find the house directly in their path. They were
coming through the fields because they expected to attack the house from uphill
with more cover.”

“Why do you think they’ll attack? How can you be sure?” Anne
asked.

“They’re not approaching openly, are they? They’ve seen the
house. They know it’s inhabited, and now they’re hiding, waiting, for what? It
doesn’t look friendly to me.”

He went on to explain his strategy. “I’ll take my bow out
along with my rifle. The bow is silent and if they fan out to attack, I can get
one of them before they know I’m out there. After that it’s all rifle work.” He
tried to sound matter of fact, but nothing he said could ease the tension.
Everyone stared at him wide-eyed.

“I don’t want you to leave us,” Sarah said after a pause.
The others nodded in agreement.

“I’ll be more effective outside where I can attack from
their flank. They won’t expect it and it will upset any plans they made.”

“Can’t we just lock our doors and keep them out?” Sarah
asked.

“For how long? What if they just wait around for us to come
out? What if they shoot at us through the windows? We’d be prisoners in our own
home. They might decide to rush the house. They may think they can overwhelm
anyone inside. If I stay inside, I may not be able to take everyone out if they
rush us.” He finished with the thought uppermost in his mind, “I’m not going to
let anything bad happen to you.”

Jason set up a lookout spot in the house on the second
floor. His binoculars worked well in low light. He was hoping to pinpoint their
location in the woods as they waited for dark.

Catherine took the first watch. She was working hard to be
calm and cool. Sarah stuck close to Jason as he moved around the house,
checking the doors and windows. He made sure he had a silent exit out of the
back door.

Anne took Jason aside, “do you think we’ll be safe here in
the house alone?”

“Yes. I’m going to make the fight happen outside, away from
the house, where they won’t expect it.”

Something in his voice and the look in his eyes convinced
Anne. She nodded. “I’ll go up and take over from Catherine,” she said finally.

Catherine came down the stairs and quietly told Jason that
the men were still waiting in the woods to the south of them, beyond the front
yard.

“They’re waiting until dark,” he confirmed as everyone
gathered around him. “They’ll want to get into position and get to the house
before the moon comes up.” There was a quarter moon that night. “No one go near
a window. Keep your weapon where I told you to position yourselves.” They all
nodded. “We’ll use the oil lamps and act normal, then pretend we’ve gone to
sleep. You’ll have to be very quiet and remember, don’t go near the windows,
and wait until someone comes in before shooting.”

As night fell, they lit a lamp, tried to eat something,
however no one had an appetite, and then finally put out the light. They took
their positions as Jason slipped out of the back door. He paused to listen. The
night was quiet. His heart raced and his breathing was ragged. He started
shaking.

He worked to quell the rising tension inside. He had left
Sam and Judy and they had been killed. He was not leaving now. He would face
this threat, no running; no leaving. He would defeat them like he had defeated
the gang that followed him after he rescued Judy. However, the last time he
hadn’t cared about the outcome. Back then there was a nihilistic rage in him to
exact revenge for his friends’ killing. There was no rage this night, only a
cold fear of what would be lost if he didn’t prevail. In an attempt to calm
down, he went over his plan for a surprise attack, his best hope of victory.

Finally calmer, he left the house and worked his way uphill,
crawling through the grass to reach the edge of the old orchard stretching
towards the forest line. The orchard provided some cover, especially with the
knee-high grass that had grown up. Jason figured that the gang would use the
orchard as cover to get closer before making a final rush on the house. He
scanned the woods with his binoculars. His tension slowly built again as he
waited. Down at the creek the night’s stillness was broken by the frogs
starting their multi-voiced croaking. A gentle night breeze flowed over the
grass where he lay hidden as the cooler air settled in the valley.

The last fight had been in the heat of anger. Tonight
everything was colder, more calculated. There was more to fight for now, but
the same outcome presented itself:
they die or I die
.

Be effective, make the shots count. Don’t hold back.
He repeated the mantra over and over in his mind. A calculated ferocity was
needed this night.

Jason wasn’t sure the bow would be effective, but he held it
ready along with his rifle as he waited, keeping still as he had been trained.
The hours passed. The house was silent. Finally he saw the men come over the
fence at the edge of the woods and fan out into the orchard. They were
spreading out in advance of attacking the house. The lead man moved towards
Jason using the cover of the trees. The last one in line stopped in front of
the house. Jason lost sight of the two in the middle but still could see the
first man in line as they fanned out.
That’s my first target—with the bow
.

They were spread out now, which played into Jason’s hands.
If
I can take one out without them realizing what’s going on, I’ve got a chance.

He could hear the men calling to each other in whispers.
They were going to creep up to the house, separated from each other, making
them harder to hit. As they were checking in along their line, Jason drew his
bow on the shadow figure nearest him. He could see him well enough to shoot
‘center mass’, in his chest. After the last man checked in, Jason let his arrow
fly. The man screamed. Jason’s arrow had found its mark, hitting him in his
left chest, but not killing him. He screamed in pain. One of the other men
called out in confusion.

The first man yelled, “Help! Ambush!” Then collapsed,
coughing and moaning.

Attention turned towards Jason, not the house. They could
not see him, but he knew his element of surprise was now gone.

He discarded the bow and took up his rifle. He could barely
see the last man in the line. The two in the middle could not be seen at all.
The gang was searching in his direction, looking for his position. Jason took
aim at the last man in the line, Nate, and fired. The man fell. He could not
tell whether or not he was hit or had dropped for cover. The middle two began
firing shots in Jason’s direction. He saw the gun flashes out of the corner of
his eye as he flattened to the ground behind one of the trees. After the
volley, Jason rose and fired off five quick rounds in the direction of the
closest flash. A cry indicated that one of his shots had struck its target. The
other man shouted and fired at Jason. The shots were now close; the shooter had
zeroed in on him. He rolled over and crawled away as bullets flew past the spot
he had just abandoned. He could hear their sharp, short whistle as they passed
overhead. From a new position he fired off five more rounds at the flashes.
This time there was no return fire. When he looked around the tree, he couldn’t
see anyone. Finally he caught sight of a shadow throwing itself over the fence
and disappearing into the woods beyond.

Was it was over? Jason started towards the fleeing shadow
and then caught himself. He could be shot by one of the wounded men. Then he
heard Anne call out his name from the house. Stepping behind a tree for
shelter, he shouted back, “I’m all right. It’s over. Don’t come out.”

Then he worked his way towards the attackers. The first man
he came to was the closest one, shot with the arrow. He was laboring for
breath. The arrow had pierced his lung, which was filling with blood. Jason
took his pistol and shot him in the head. Then he carefully approached the
second one. The man was badly wounded, but still alive. Jason could see him
well enough in the light of the moon that had started to come up. He glared at
Jason as he gasped for breath.

“How many of you are there?” Jason demanded. “Are you part
of a larger group?” He only got glares and raspy breathing back. Jason waited
for a few more moments and then shot him in the head. Without remorse, he
headed to the third gang member. He was not sure of his position. Crouching, he
worked his way forward, moving carefully. The man could be waiting in ambush.

There was a rustling sound ahead and to his right. Jason
wheeled, bringing his rifle to bear on the sound when a shot rang out. The
bullet tore through the meat of his shoulder, spinning him around and to the
ground. Two more shots flew over where his head had been. Ignoring the pain in
his shoulder he brought his rifle to bear on the flashes. He fired off five
closely spaced rounds and collapsed down tight to the ground. The pain in his
shoulder nearly made him cry out. This time there was no return fire. He waited
silently for a few minutes. Then he began to crawl towards the direction of the
shots.

“Jason, are you all right?” Anne called from the house.

He didn’t answer. Finally he reached the attacker. Jason’s
shots had hit him in the abdomen and leg. He was doubled over in pain, the gun
lying beside him. Jason slowly stood up and kicked it aside.

“Jason,” Anne called again.

“I’m okay,” he replied, not taking his eyes off of the
wounded man. “Stay inside.” Blood started coming from the man’s mouth; he would
get no information from him. He just glared at Jason as he shot him in the
head.

With his good arm, he collected the guns from the men: two
9mm pistols, a .45 automatic, one AR15, another .223 carbine and one 30-30
Marlin lever action. Now he needed to find the ammunition. That was a prize the
fleeing man might dare to return for. Blood was running down his arm, dripping
off his hand from his wound. He tried to ignore it and painfully climbed over
the fence to hunt for the backpacks which he figured might have ammunition in
them. Jason found where the group had come over the fence. From there he walked
a zigzag pattern back and forth going further into the tree line until he came
to the place where they had waited. As he hoped, four backpacks were lying in
the matted undergrowth. He was getting dizzy, but forced himself to continue.
He tied the packs together and, dragging them behind him, slowly made his way
back to the house.

On entering the house, Jason found the girls and Anne
hunkered down in a safe spot, away from windows, all their weapons at ready.
They all looked scared.

“What were you doing?” Anne said in a sharp tone. “We’ve
been sitting here pretty much scared to death. We don’t know what is going on
and what you are doing and then we hear more shots outside…” Her words tumbled
out over each other in her frightened state. “You’re hurt!” She suddenly
exclaimed and ran to him.

“Oh no,” Sarah cried out. Catherine stared at him wide eyed.

“Fighting for your life is not a pretty thing,” Jason said.
“I had things to finish things out there to make sure we were safe.” Anne had
her arm around him as he stumbled to a chair. “One of the gang got away. I was
going to chase him, but decided it wasn’t a good idea…being night and being
injured.” He nodded to the packs on the floor. “I collected the weapons and
backpacks. Figured they would have ammunition in them.” The girls recoiled in horror
from them.

“I don’t want them anywhere near me,” said Sarah firmly.

“Forget about the packs,” said Anne. We have to look at your
shoulder.” She moved to take Jason’s shirt off.

Catherine stood up. “I’ll help,” she said.

Anne nodded. Sarah just stood there wide eyed, afraid to
look at his wound. Anne helped Jason into the kitchen. She and Catherine
finished removing his shirt. Jason asked for a mirror so he could see the
wound. The bullet had gone through the muscle, but had not shattered any bone. He
was lucky.

“Sarah, get a lamp lit so we can see the wound,” Anne said.
“It has to be cleaned. I can wash around it with soap and water,” she looked at
Jason, “but I should probably pour some alcohol or whisky directly in it.”

Jason grimaced, but nodded in agreement. “Give me a clean
towel to press on the wound while you get ready. It’ll help to stop the
bleeding.”