Dark Days Rough Roads (38 page)

The
second truck came speeding down the road and saw them pulling away. They tore
into the parking lot to check it out. They had had no idea that David had
hidden a rifle and a shotgun up under the truck. The flat tire and Rich’s
bathroom plea had been a diversion. Of course, Dawn hadn’t expected to get
slapped.

The
militia grabbed some first aid supplies and tended to their friend. Once they
got him bandaged quickly, they put him in the back of the truck. They grabbed
the other man’s body and placed it in the back of the truck as well. They sped
off heading toward their compound.

David and
company made a few turns, waited, and then headed back to the house. This was
all that was expected of them. They made it back and put everything away. They
turned the radio on and listened. Everything was boiling over right now and it
was chaos at the militia compound.

They had
forced the group aside and opened the gate for the patrol truck to enter with
the injured man. They rushed him into the admin building, where a nurse from
the militia was working on him. At this same time, the crowd outside was
yelling that they wanted to talk to the militia leader. They were not leaving
until that happened.

One of
the militia came out and asked them what they wanted. Rob told him, “We want
our food and stuff back. You guys don’t have the right to keep it. You didn’t
have the right to take it.” The man from the militia told him to take it easy,
disperse the crowd, and then he would get the commander and they could talk.

“What do
you mean get the commander, who the hell are you? I know you from somewhere.
You work at the sheriff’s office. Is he in charge?”

“The
sheriff is the commander. We are under rule of militia law now.” The crowd was
yelling at them loudly now. More of the militia came around by the gate. They
now had a few guys patrolling up and down the fence line continuously.

Someone
ran inside and spoke to the commander. The commander came out and walked behind
a barrier. “What do you people want?”

Rob
replied, “We want what’s ours. What you took from us, what you stole from the
community. That’s what we want.”

The
commander responded, “You got it all wrong.”

“Then
explain it to us,” yelled Rob.

“We are
under militia law now. Everything was commandeered for the good of the
community. You’ll be able to buy food and supplies in a couple of days.”

Rob
yelled again, “Why the hell should we buy what belonged to us in the first
place?”

The
commander tried to explain. “Things are different and we need to maintain
order. That’s why we are in charge.”

Some in
the crowd hollered out, “Who the hell put you in charge?” The commander didn’t
answer.

“I was
the sheriff and now I am the commander of the militia. We are doing what is
best for us. If you listen to us and follow our law you will be fine. Now
disperse and go home and wait for notice.”

A woman
asked him, “You mean what’s best for you or what’s best for all of us?”

Someone
in the crowd threw some rocks at the militia. The commander ordered them to
leave. The crowd threw some more rocks. Two members of the militia approached
the gate with what looked like flame throwers, but they were not flame
throwers. They sprayed the crowd with pepper spray from these tanks.

Some of
the crowd started running away. A lot of the people were, coughing and tears
and snot were running down their faces. The commander ordered them to disperse
once again. They crossed the street but were still yelling. People continued to
throw rocks, bottles, or whatever they could find. Someone threw a Molotov
cocktail.

The
militia fired toward the crowd to scare them. One man went down and others
helped him up. He had been hit in the leg by accident. The crowd started
running away now through the houses across the street and down back toward the feed
store. The militia fired only sporadically.

Blake
fired first. The round arced over toward the crowd and exploded in the air,
lighting up the scene. It was a simple fireworks cartridge from the 37mm. The
militia had been caught off guard. Everyone looked up. Haliday squeezed the
trigger on his M24 and dropped the commander. The shot tore through his upper
shoulder near his neck. They grabbed him and rushed him into the command
center.

The
militia didn’t know whether or not to fire on the crowd. Some of the crowd ran
and some lay down on the ground. Haliday placed his next shot into the open
hangar where they were working on the planes. He fired a shot into what looked
like a small fuel caddy and it started to leak. He fired just one more shot
into it.

He handed
the rifle to Blake and told him to put it away. Blake stuffed it in the case
and used some bungee cords to secure it to Haliday’s bike. He wrapped a couple
quick pieces of hundred mile and hour tape on it. This rifle was too important
to lose. Blake grabbed his AR and fired at the compound and kept an eye out for
patrols.

The
militia sent a couple guys to the fence line closest to Haliday and Blake. They
fired a few shots at them. Haliday and Blake returned fire. Blake emptied a
magazine and loaded another into the rifle. Haliday crawled over to a tree and
rose up behind it. He aimed the 37mm and launched a flare toward the hangar.

The flare
fell short. Haliday loaded another one and fired again at the hangar. This one
hit the tarmac in front of the hangar and bounced in. Someone came running out.
Haliday watched as a group of guys ran toward the motor pool hangar. Haliday loaded
one more cartridge into the launcher and fired it toward the hangar. Blake
continued to fire at the men near the fence line; he had gone through three
magazines and just loaded his fourth.

The
fireworks cartridge landed near the open door of the hangar and exploded
sending colorful sparks everywhere. One landed in the puddle of fuel and sent
up a wall flames. A couple guys grabbed some small extinguishers and tried to
put it out. The flames grew in size. Haliday was disappointed there was no
explosion. “A little 4
^th
of July celebration for ya Wright brothers.
Fly this.”

“Ok
Blake, cover me while I get into the woods.” Haliday crawled about 30 yards
into the woods. He took up position and told Blake to low crawl in while he
used suppressing fire to cover him. He went through three magazines himself.
“Go get ready, Blake.” Blake went a little deeper into the woods. Haliday
continued to fire although he wasn’t hitting anything other than the four
wheeler. A Jeep came out of the compound and pulled up close to the
intersection. They fired blindly into the woods.

 Haliday
and Blake had a path between the two wooded areas that they were going to use.
They crawled their way back there. The Jeep moved up slowly and started heading
down the path. Haliday and Blake fired at them. The Jeep backed off. Haliday
heard the guys shouting out instructions. “I think it’s a trap,” said one of
the guys, “just hold on, it’s coming.”

Back at
the airport one of the militia had managed to wheel a large extinguisher to the
hangar where she released the chemical into the hangar and on the two piper
cubs. Her efforts paid off, the flames were put out. The condition of the
planes was unknown, but hopefully they wouldn’t fly any time soon.

The motor
pool hangar door opened and the M113 rolled out. It went out the main gate and
made its way toward the wooded area where Haliday and Blake were. The Jeep had
backed out of the woods and the guys got out and jumped in the back of the
track. They raised the back door ramp and started heading toward Blake and
Haliday.

The
militia had five people in the track. Two were actually women. Haliday had
actually done a good job of ruffling their ranks over the past few days. He
hoped that using the women meant that their ranks were not numbered as high as
he originally thought. The option was very angry wives out for payback. Still,
they had enough to accomplish what they wanted to in the area. His count would
later prove to be wrong.

With the
promise of food and shelter they would be able to recruit some additional
people as well. They had to have been promising the gas station owners
something. Why else would they be restricting the gas? Who knew what else they
were promising people or would promise them. With the country in the crapper
and people getting cold, tired and hungry they’d jump on board in a minute to
protect themselves and family.

The
store/barter idea would have allowed the militia to selectively recruit people,
preferably singles or couples with no kids. As they came in to trade for food
and supplies, they could screen everyone. In actuality, it wasn’t a bad idea.
That plan may have been disrupted. If they started recruiting, they would win
this game.

The track
turned its lights on. It moved forward slowly but effortlessly at a walking pace.
The path here was wide enough to drive a truck through and fairly level. Just
some bushes and undergrowth in most spots. The issue was the trees on both
sides. Lot of places for people to hide, but the gun ports on each side
provided cover and a sense of safety.

The upper
turret was manned with one guy and what looked like a .308 of some sorts. Most
likely it was an AR configuration. The track was accompanied by two people
bringing up the rear. They were determined to find these guys and even the score.
They searched the area thoroughly as they moved along.

The track
reached a pinch point in the path where the trees narrowed. This narrow point
left barely a few inches on each side of the track. The driver was checking his
alignment and let it creep forward. As it crept through the trees two booby
trap simulators went off, which startled everyone.

The guys
in the rear dove for cover and the guy in the turret ducked down as the driver
stopped. They were braced and ready to take fire. The guys in the rear scanned
the area and did not see anyone. The turret gunner stood back up, but kept nice
and low behind the armored cover.

Overhead
there came some light popping sounds. They looked up and didn’t see anything,
but felt the fluid dropping all over the track. The gunner and the driver felt
themselves getting wet. The driver tried to scramble to get out of the driver’s
compartment and knocked the gunner down. The floor had become slippery. In a
matter of moments, flares hit the track and ignited it.

The track
burst into flames. The driver and gunner were flailing around inside screaming
as the flames engulfed them. The people inside the back of the track were
trying to get out and couldn’t locate the hatch control. Everything started to
ignite inside the track with everyone moving around and spreading the fuel and
flames.

The
gunner climbed up out of the turret hatch and over the side of the track where
he fell to the ground. The driver was rolling around the floor of the track
trying to smother the flames, but it was fruitless as there was gas burning on
the floor as well. One more person made it through the gunner’s hatch. The
driver, a man and a woman didn’t make it out of the track. The flames had
licked higher and burst the rest of the balloons that had not popped, dumping
more gas on everyone.

Haliday
had strung up some balloons filled with air and gas over this area. They were
tied up in small bunches with fish hooks taped to the strings supporting them.
A couple jerks on the fishing line caused them to burst. The gas dropped and
then had he used a flare from the 37mm to ignite it. The rest was the brutal
nature of fire and it took its course.

The track
had been abandoned now and was completely engulfed in flames. A truck came
flying up and two militia tried to help their friends. Three had succumbed to
the flames and two were badly burned. Only the two outside the track had
avoided the inferno. The militia grabbed the injured and retreated, leaving the
track to burn.

Back near
the airport, another alarm had sounded. Every person in the militia group was
responding and taking up defensive positions. There was sporadic gunfire as
they fired into the woods and surrounding buildings. No one knew what they were
firing at. Shadows, light dancing off windows, or just their imaginations.

There
were vehicles heading in all directions around the entire perimeter. People
were then getting out and either lying prone and watching their area or taking
cover behind their vehicles. It was a mix of adults and teens. They all had the
same Russian camo on too.

The crowd
had cleared out and was completely out of sight. More than half had gone home.
About a dozen of the remaining members stayed behind by the feed store with
Rob. In about 15 minutes Haliday and Blake came up from the other direction on
their bikes. They ditched them inside a truck well at the feed store.

Haliday
walked up to Rob. “How’d you make out?”

“One guy
got hit in the leg and old man Burton got shot in the back while he was running
away. He didn’t make it. He owned the Burton tire shop. He didn’t have any
family, but we’ll get him taken care of.”

Haliday
said, “It ain’t over yet. I guarantee these guys are going to try and remain in
charge. That or they are going to come after you.”