Dark Days Rough Roads (12 page)

When he
spotted the Remington M24 system on Migunowners.org, Michigan’s local gun
forum, he called immediately. The price was only $3,000 and the guy said he had
barely put 40 rounds through it. The Leupold made it a nice combination and it
was a steal. Normally five grand, he couldn’t pass it up. He borrowed against
his retirement fund and paid himself back. Well worth the cost. Not to mention
he wouldn’t have to repay that loan any time soon.

The sun
was coming up and he looked down the street. These guys were hanging around the
burned out vehicles where they had dragged whatever would burn closer and
tossed it into the trunk of the cruiser to keep a smaller fire going. There was
trash littering the entire area.

They were
still drinking and smoking and sitting around doing nothing but wandering
around the intersection. Had to be better places for them to go, but then again
they didn’t look like geniuses. Probably trying to stake out a claim or stock
up on whatever they could steal from people passing by.

The sun
was fully cresting the horizon now. He peered through the scope and watched as
an old man pushing a shopping cart walked by. The dirt bags started in on him
and started pushing him around and taunting him. Haliday couldn’t make out any
of the conversation, but knew well enough that the old man was in over his
head. One guy threw a quick jab into the old man’s stomach and the old man went
down. They gathered around and they kicked him, then dumped beer and liquor all
over him.

The old
man was pleading for his life by the looks of it. They stopped and stood there
for a moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag which one
of them grabbed and opened. He could hear the guy call out to another man. This
guy came walking over and looked down at the old man and after talking to him a
minute he kicked him. Evidently he was convinced the old man was hiding
something more. He knelt down next to the old man and pulled out a knife,
waving it at the petrified old guy.

Haliday
sat there watching through the scope. He had made his adjustments long ago. The
guy looked up and Haliday saw a typical piece of crap felon. The guy had a
black Mohawk, tattoos all over his neck, a bushy mustache and goatee and looked
exactly like the deputy said he would. Haliday already had his breathing under
control, exhaled, felt his heart fall between beats and squeezed the trigger.
Only 600 yards out and the round still reached the target before the report
did. The old man on the ground went limp.

The old
man had no idea what the hell happened, but knew better than to get up. The
worst thing he had to endure right now was the blood and tissue that had
peppered him as the ringleader’s head came apart. Almost instantaneously there
came another report from the opposite side of the intersection somewhere down
the street.

Haliday
had instructed Mike not to take aim, but merely wanted the shot to be heard to
confuse the band of prisoners. Mike had gotten beaten pretty good and with
swollen eyes Haliday knew it would be a wasted shot, so there was no sense in
him exposing himself.

This
worked like a charm. The scum bags didn’t know which way to run for cover. They
were hiding on both sides of the debris. A couple took off running down the
Northern side street. Haliday took these guys to be the lightweights, most
likely serving a year or less for crap like breaking and entering or assault,
but nothing major.

The few
guys still there were more hardcore. These were the felons waiting to go do
some serious time in a state or federal pen or guys easily lured into a life of
promised crime and ruling through fear. You always had guys who could not think
for themselves and liked to be told what to do all the time.

As this
group started looking around, Haliday just waited. Even with the sun over his
back he wasn’t giving up his position just yet. No sooner had they looked the
other way toward Mike’s direction when Haliday squeezed off another round. He
had miscalculated his breathing and this one dropped a little low striking the
next guy in the base of the neck.

With half
of the man’s neck gone, the body just slumped down with a small spurt of blood
from his jugular every couple seconds from a heart that just had a few beats
left. Mike’s rifle report came just as quick. This time however he hit the
frame of the gator. They all moved over to Haliday’s side of the wreckage.

They
looked up and down the street trying to find Haliday. Another guy took the
opportunity to take off and headed out at a full sprint. Of the two men left,
one guy leveled a shotgun and dropped the deserter with a shot spread to his
lower back. He tumbled forward and then squirmed on the ground.

The other
man looked up the street again toward Haliday, and started shooting at what he
thought might be a good hide. The AR wasn’t going to reach out at 600 yards
accurately, but a wild shot would ruin the day just as easily. Haliday was not
sure how many rounds they had at their disposal.

Haliday
tried to count the number of rounds fired at him. A bullet hit the mailboxes
and that was a bit too close for comfort. He just laid there waiting. The idiot
with the shotgun was pumping round after round and firing it up the street as
well. What the hell does he think he’s going to hit? Haliday, thought to
himself. The shotgun was out of rounds real quick. He knew by the pause the gun
was empty and when it didn’t fire again he knew it was out of ammo. One gun
down one to go, Haliday thought.

Haliday
darted his eyes left and right quickly and could see people peeking out their
windows. Why don’t you morons just come on outside and watch the show, he said
to himself. I could use the distraction. The AR was still blindly searching for
him. Mike had fired a few more shots toward them and the guys spun toward
Mike’s direction, but couldn’t spot him.

He was
hiding behind some bushes and blended well, until Haliday saw Mike’s muzzle
flash and watched the AR come up and take aim at Mike’s position and fire four
quick shots. Haliday quickly readjusted himself and squeezed off one more shot.
This one was dead center to the back of the head.

The AR
dropped to the ground and Haliday took aim on it instantly and put his fourth
and final round of the fight through the receiver, rendering the rifle useless.
He sat and watched for about 15 minutes as the last guy sat there shaking. Mike
had stopped firing and Haliday wasn’t sure he was still alive. He wouldn’t be
going to check either. Whether Mike was alive or not would be answered soon
enough.

Haliday
scoped the area and didn’t see anything other than the last man sitting there,
the guy with the shotgun blast squirming around on the ground and the old man
who was now trying to get up. He was about to get up when he saw another man
come out from behind the party store and approach the old man with a revolver
in his hand. “Damn it,” Haliday said. He was readying the shot when he saw this
guy reach down and extend a hand to the old man and helped him up.

Haliday
controlled his breathing and heart rate again and kept careful aim. The old guy
steadied himself on his shopping cart. The guy with the pistol then walked over
to the prisoner sitting there shaking and pointed the pistol at him. Haliday
watched through the scope as this man executed the guy with either little or no
remorse.

He then
watched him walk over to the squirming figure and did the same. He reached down
and grabbed the bag the guy was holding. Turning back around; he helped the old
man with the shopping cart get back to the sidewalk and gave him the bag back.
That explained why his buddy shot him. No honor amongst thieves or something
like that.

Haliday
waited another 15 minutes or so, and then satisfied he was safe, he rose up and
packed up his rifle and rolled up his mat. He looked down at the trash. He
wasn’t about to pick it up. He looked toward a couple of the houses and at the
people sneaking peeks between the curtains.

He looked
at one guy and gave him a thumbs up sign; the guy returned it with a thumbs up.
Haliday walked back toward the Tahoe. This had been an intense morning. Looking
down at his watch, it had actually only been a total of about 10 minutes from
the first shot until the last, if even that long.

Reaching
the Tahoe, he opened it up, looked around and saw more people looking at him
through half open doors and parted curtains. He threw his gear in, climbed
behind the wheel, started the Tahoe, and turned the ham on. “You there Mike?”
he said. Linda came on and said he was at the table having a drink. She asked
Haliday if he was ok. Oh ya, absolutely run of the mill morning is what he
wanted to say but he was too tired. He just said, “Yes, see you guys in a few
minutes, have the garage door open.”

Five
minutes later he was backing up into the garage. He walked inside, gave his daughter
a huge hug and told her he loved her. She was in tears and he was too. He
nodded toward Linda then wiped his face, walked over to Mike and said “Good job
old man; can you spare one of those?” Mike poured him a couple fingers of Jack.
Haliday drank it quickly and put the empty glass on the table.

Mike
looked up at Haliday and was speechless. He hadn’t expected anything like what
he had just seen. He finally told Haliday that when he saw that AR pointing at
him he rolled over a few times and laid there and prayed he wouldn’t die. He
had wanted to just run at that point. It was one thing to fire at guys to scare
them, but another to actually kill them.

He asked
Haliday how come it didn’t bother him. “Look Mike,” he said. “I don’t have time
for it. Suffice to say that my daughter, hell you guys too, all needed me. I
did what I had to, not for me, but for you guys.” Haliday looked at Linda and
Mike and said, “I guess we have some business to talk about now.”

Haliday’s
parents had heard the exchange in the morning and waited it out while drinking
coffee and smoking cigarettes, not knowing what was transpiring or sure they
wanted to know. Dawn had listened in as well, but had a better idea of what had
most likely taken place. All of them were glad they heard his voice and knew he
was ok right now. They also decided to leave him alone until he called them.

Haliday
was looking at Mike and said, “Wait a minute, before we talk, what the hell
happened to you?” Mike told him they made everyone stay at the plant for almost
four hours until they realized the power wasn’t coming on any time soon. They
all started to leave and Mike cleaned out his locker. He started the walk home
and was going well around the hood. He hadn’t gone far enough away from it.

He ran
into a group of four punks that were shaking people down for drug money.
Pickings were good with everyone walking to wherever they needed to go. He told
them he didn’t have much and tossed whatever cash he did have down on the
ground. One crack head said "What, we ain’t good enough for you to put it
in our hands?"

“That’s
all I have,” he told him, “no offense but I don’t want any trouble.”

The punks
circled him and started making threats. Mike tried to push his way through
thinking they were bluffing, but they weren’t. They jumped him quickly and
started throwing punches. He dropped to the ground and they kicked at him. He
managed to grab one’s leg and push him off balance, and then Mike got up.

They
threw more punches and Mike had fought them off the best he could and he managed
to get away and started to run. He ran through a hole in a fence into an old
tire factory. He managed to hide himself and sat there while they searched for
him. They would kill him if they found him.

"We’re
going to kick your ass when we find you." they yelled. They searched for
almost an hour, but didn’t find him. Mike stayed hidden for hours though before
he would venture out. Once out, he got as far away as he could and finished the
walk home. It was slow going; he was sore as hell and had bruises everywhere.
His face was a mess and he had lost a couple teeth in the fight. Haliday looked
at him. “Sucks to be you,” he said.

Getting
back to business he put it as plain as he could. “I brought some food that will
get you by for a little while.” He got up and walked around looking in their
cupboards. They had quite a bit of food. Linda was a food hoarder of sorts,
always stocking up on sales, but not prepping. “With all the corn around these
parts and this, you should be able to make it until spring,” he told them.

“Whether
you can find a FEMA camp or not before then, if they even exist, is up to you.
I don’t trust them. I can leave you an AR and about 500 rounds. You have Mike’s
bows and if you can hunt enough to help, that might work out ok. But game will
become scarce very quickly with everyone hunting. Flat lands and cornfields
won’t yield many animals.”

Kayla
started to tear up. Mike and Linda just kind of hung their heads low. Haliday
said if he had any way of supporting them he would take them back, but there
was no way they could make it adding two more adults to the mix. Haliday walked
over and opened the freezer and saw it stacked with meat.

He
grabbed a package and read the label, it said venison. “Where did you bag this
deer Mike?” Mike said he got it on his friend Bill’s farm. “In Michigan right?” Haliday remarked.