Original Work The Unwelcome Sign

Then next few bounds we made without firing, needing to conserve ammo and waiting to see if someone would come out if there wasn't any fire. We'd climbed about two hundred yards up the gut until we came to a spot where it curved. If we went any further we'd lose sight of anyone following us.
I moved over to Jacob so we could talk. “They don't seem to be following us anymore.” Jake gave me a hopefull look. “Maybe taking three of them out changed their minds.”
“It's possible. Or maybe they've pulled back to do something else, like trying to flank us.”
We both looked at the bush towards our right, as we looked down the gut. Jacob put into words what I was thinking.
“It's too thick for them to come around our side. At least not quick enough to keep up with us.”
“That's true..” And then it hit me. “unless they use the road!”

If it was just one car full of bad guys, I wouldn't be as concerned. We'd taken a bunch of them out. They wouldn't be that interested in pushing after us. But there were the other SUVs. Our little fire fight let them know where we were.
They wouldn't be scattered, searching for the sniper. They now knew where he was.
I was really starting to question myself. What made me think shooting Threeballz would be a good idea? Somebody would just replace him and we'd be right back in the same place.
But no, I had to think I was the big man. The hero that would save the day with one shot. All our problems solved.
Now I'd put Jacob and myself in danger with around a dozen well armed and ****ed of people hunting us.
Jake's look shook me back to now. He was depending on me to do the right thing.

“Come on!” I left the gut and moved into the bush on the eastern side. I paused for a moment then changed course.
“Make it obvious the we left the gut here.” Jake looked skeptical for a moment then followed my lead. We stepped in the mud, made slide marks up the bank and broke some branches on the west side of the gut.

“Now. Back the way we were going. But let's be careful.” We took our time and tried to leave as little trace as possible of our actual route. Carefully moving branches out of the way as we passed, rather than breaking them.

We hadn't gone far, maybe fifty yards when we heard two cars stop on the road above us. There was a flurry of car doors opening and closing and one voice yelling commands.

The road above, where the gut went under it, was maybe a hundred yards away from where we left it.
Too close for comfort.

Jacob and I looked at each other, nothing needed to be said. Jake turned and melted into the bush. We were both getting pretty good at it. It's very similar to Limbo dancing, except the bar might be vertical as well as horizontal.
We bent and twisted our way through the foliage, trying to not touch it or disturb it. Not only did we not want to leave any mark of our passage, moving leaves and branches can give you away, even if you yourself can't actually be seen.

It was slow going, especially with the long rifle on my pack snagging things that I'd thought I'd cleared. Jake was having similar issues with his bow. We'd made it another fifty yards when we heard excited voices in the gut. They must have found our fake trail.
At least, I hoped that's what the noise was about.

We continued our slow press forward, away from them. The voices got quieter, and I started to think our rouse might have worked. Then I heard something that sent a chill down my spine.
Someone was moving through the bush towards us!

I moved up to Jacob who had heard the sound also. I looked around quickly and found a dead tree laying on the ground a few feet from the path we were making.
“Take your bow and get behind that tree. I'm going to keep going. I'm pretty sure it's just one person heading this way.”
“Yeah, I only hear one.” He took his bow and strung it and quickly picked a favorite arrow and moved to the tree. I stood waiting, watching to make sure he was out of sight.
I moved again, slowly, but a little louder. It was a fine line. I didn't want to make it obvious that we were here, or he'd just call his friends. I needed him to come on alone. After a few steps I paused, listening.
He was still back there, mostly quiet. I could see some leaves move now and then, tracking his progress.
My heart was pumping, sweat running down my spine in a river. The headache pounding at the top of my skull reminding me that I hadn't been drinking enough.
Step, listen. Step, listen. I hadn't move very far, trying to keep Jacob's log in view.

I put myself behind a mango tree and waited, looking up our back trail which was clear. The next moment, there he was. The gang banger moved slowly, eyes on the ground, and then up and looking at the brush. His AR was held at the trail, or as much as he could with the magazine in the balance point.
He moved past Jacobs position, coming within ten or twelve feet of him. I watched the tree trunk for signs of movement.
There! Jacob had been laying supine, flat on his back, bow across his chest, arrow nocked. He sat up at the waist.

The gangbanger paused at the sound of the swishing leaves. Before he could turn, I came out from behind the tree.
“Looking for me?”
His head snapped around to me and his eyes got wide. He scrambled to get his rifle up, but it was all wrong, being in his right hand.

An arrow blossomed red from his throat. He dropped the rifle as he clawed for it, dropping to his knees.
I sprang forward, pulling my Bowie while I covered the few short yards between us.
He tried to yell, but all he could manage was a gurgle. Just as I got to him he keeled over, snapping the arrow. He managed another ragged breath and then expired, his hole body going limp.
“That was my favorite arrow!” Jacob retreived the front half with the arrowhead and dropped into his quiver.
“Put the bow away and help me check him.”
I started checking the gang banger, constantly looking up and listening to sounds of persuit or discovery.
So far, so good.
I unbuckled his chest pouch and rolled it up as tight as I could. His pockets yielded a lighter, some weed, and two spare mags for the Glock 22 in his waistband.
I was done before Jacob, and when he came over I had him turn around. Opening his back pack I stuffed the pistol in it and just managed to find room to cram the magazine pouch.
Picking up the AR, I saw it was the same as the others we'd been finding on the gang members. I tapped the mag, pulled the charging handle back enough to see some brass and made sure the safety was on. Pulling out all the adjustment on the sling I put left arm and head through the loop and pushed it behind my back.

We were about to move when Jacob stopped. “What's that?” He answered his own question by reaching down and lifting the cuff of the corpse's jeans, revealing a bright and shiny pistol sticking out of his sock.

He pulled it out and handed it to me. A Lorcin .380. “Piece of ****”
“Keep it?”
“Sure. I wouldn't let anyone I cared about use it, but It might come in handy.”

The chamber was empty so I put it in a pants pocket.

We moved off again, keeping one ear out for noises behind us. It seemed our boy was a lone scout, and most of them had gone a different way. But he'd be missed sooner or later.

Fifteen minutes later we came to something that I had mixed feelings about. A house.

The house itself didn't bother me, but it meant we were close to the road. And the bad guys had cars and we didn't.

I stopped and listened for a moment. Not hearing anything I pulled my pack and set it on the ground. Kneeling I found my repair kit in a side pocket. This was an Altoids tin with duct tape wrapped around it and assorted goodies inside.

Moving back the way we came twenty feet or so, I pulled the Lorcin out of my pocket. I couldn't remember if they had magazine safeties or not, but something tickled my brain about one of these crappy pot metal gun companies getting sued for a lack of same.
I flicked the shells out of the mag and into my pocket. All except the last. Magazine back in the pistol, I made sure the safety was off. Finding a likely looking sapling just off the trail, I duct taped the pistol to it. I put it low so it was hard to see, and pointed slightly downwards so it would hit the dirt ten feet away.
“Don't you want to try and hit the bad guys?” Jacob had been quietly watching what I was doing and figured it out.
“The problem with booby traps and mines is that they are stupid and indiscriminate. Somebody innocent might trip this.”
“Then what's the point?”
“The bad guys won't know it wasn't aimed at them. Not right away anyway. It will do to things. Slow them down and make them more cautious, and let us know when they get this far.”
“Can I help?”
“Keep watching”

Lorcin secured, I opened the tin and found the four pound mono-filament fishing line. It was wrapped on a sewing machine bobbin and was meant to be used as a strong thread substitute. It would work just as well as a trip wire.

I passed it through the trigger guard and tied it into a loose loop behind the grip. Running the line to another sappling, I secured it at ankle height and snug. Pulling on the center of the line rewarded me with a satisfying click.

Making sure the line was still ok and slack enough to get the trigger to re-set, I racked the slide loading the chamber. The remainder of the repair kit went back in the pack which I shouldered along with the AR. A quick system check on my AK showed it was good to go.

We eased out of the bush and into the yard, moving quickly to the drive and then to the road. Looking down it, we didn't see or hear anything.
“Let's go! Quick! Up the road!”
Jacob followed my lead, quickly taking the lead. Shortly up ahead a Mafolie road took a left turn while the road continued on with another name. We made the turn and humped up the hill as best we could. The battlefield pick up AR was beating me up, constantly moving around and getting in my way.

A sharp report signaled that my little surprise that worked. Now the question was how much it would slow them down, if at all.

We crested the rise and the road, which had been a straight shot up from the intersection, now turned sharply to the right. We were only a quarter mile from the Frenchie road block. A quarter mile up hill, on the road.

There was a concrete wall about three feet tall on the side of the road. I looked at it then down the road.
“Why we stopping? We're almost there!”
“It'll take five or more minutes to get there. I don't think we have that long. And then what? Drag this mess into the Frenchie's lap?”
“We can't just stop now!”
“We're not. I am. Keep going, I'll hold them here.”
I moved behind the wall and set my Krink on it, then the AR. The pack came off and I removed the Model 70 from it and set it on the wall too.
“I'm not leaving you!”
I looked at him, meeting his defiant gaze. I could order him, and he'd probably leave. But he didn't need anymore survivor's guilt than he was already dealing with.
“Fine. Get your ass back here and set up. Give me the mags for the AR.”

I pulled the last two boxes of 30-06 ammo out of my pack. Opening the bolt I pushed down the top cartridge and held it down while I put another round in the chamber.

I checked the AR which was fully loaded and set it right next to the bolt gun. The mag pouch lay at my feet. My mouth was dry and sticky, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I pulled my water bottle out for a drink and noticed Jacob doing the same.
We smiled at the fact that we were doing the same thing at the same time. I expected him to say 'jinx', but he surprised me. He held his bottle out and I clinked it with mine.
“To Leonidas!” His grin was infectious.
“And the Three Hundred!”

 

very good.

 

They're coming, they're coming…great G-d almighty…they're coming! Gonna be heah real soon too, yep, poor pitiful out matched pos toads be coming armed to the teeth and their heads are going to look so nice on poles!

 

Well let's hope Zed gets a head shot at the first car load of Troll's sending them over the hill side. A tracer in gas tank from the 30 06 would due fine to. I'm looking forward to the next segment hopefully before July"4"

 

The grins slipped from our faces at the sound of vehicles coming up the road. I picked up the Winchester and rested it on my pack on top of the concrete wall. Snugging the butt into my shoulder I kept my head up so I wasn't looking through the scope.
“Wait for me to fire. I'll go for the driver. Fire into the car as soon as I shoot and if anyone gets out, engage them as you can.”
I looked over at Jacob. He didn't reply, his face displaying a grim determination. He had his AK shouldered, ready to go.
“We'll be engaging them at two hundred yards to start. Use single shots and make them count. Remember your trigger control and stay cool.”
“Got it, Zed” his response showed some annoyance. I realized I was talking more for my sake than his, and he just wanted me to shut up. So I did.
We watched with relief as the first black SUV went past the turn off and kept going straight up the road. The relief didn't last long as the second and third turned into our road.
I waited until the second SUV made the turn, then stroked the trigger, the rifle recoiling heavily into my shoulder, working the bolt bringing it back on target. The first vehicle turned sharply into the shoulder, hit the hillside at and angle and slowly rolled over onto its side.
Jacob opened fire a fraction of a second after I did, methodically putting rounds into the first car at a rate of two or three shots a second. I quickly shifted the rifle, putting the reticle in the middle of the windshield on the driver's side, remembering to aim slightly high to compensated for the deflection of the bullet passing throught the glass.
My shot had a similar effect to the first. Running the bolt, I set the Winchester down and picked up the AR and did to the second SUV, what Jake was doing to his.
The second SUV colided with the first, but not hard, forming a Vee shape. The gang bangers were scrambling to get out of the vehicles, smart enough to know to get out on the side opposite us.
“Loading!” I shifted fire to Jacob's vehicle, firing a couple of rounds at its roof which was facing me, then back to mine, trying to keep them pinned.
“UP!” before I could move back to my SUV I caught Jake nailing a guy who was frantically trying to climb out of the passenger side window that was now pointing at the sky.
Some of the gang bangers had successfully managed to escape the vehicles and were now returning fire. Most of it was full auto fired in our general direction in panic mode.
There were maybe half a dozen of the gang bangers using the SUVs for cover, crouching behind them, only their heads exposed. I focused on two that were using the hood of the rear vehicle. I'd made a mistake and forgot to check the rear apperature of the AR. It was set on the large side. Not good for precise shots at two hundred yards.
I cursed myself as I fought to flip the sight to the smaller aperature and bring the rifle back to bear. The gang bangers were settling down and more and more rounds were hitting the wall in front of us. That and the ones zipping angrily past our heads were distracting. Hard to concentrate when you know a round could tag you at any moment. I thought of Sadie and my promise to Fiona to bring Jake back.
Time slowed and my vision narrowed. Sound was coming to me like I had on ear plugs and muffs. I had plenty of time to put my front sight post on the gang member's face, seeing the sun catch on the bright brass as his rifle ejected them into the air.
I saw my bullet go low, plowing into the hood of the SUV at a shallow angle and deflect right into my target's face. He tumbled backwards and as I turned my attention to his partner I could see his eyes go wide as he saw the wreckage my bullet had done to his friend's head.
He dropped down, out of sight. I pumped a couple of rounds into the body of the car, but .223 isn't known for its ability to punch through automobiles.
I shifted my aim to the pavement under it and fired a quick fan of four shots. Four, and not five, because my bolt locked back.
“LOADING!” My hand went to my chest rig and pulled out a magazine. Halfway to the rifle I realized it was an AK mag. Dropping it I reached for the pouch at my feet. This was taking way too long.
“LOADING!” Oh shit! Jake was out too! Eyes up while I finished my loading, just in time to see a gang banger run across the road to the house on the side of the road.
“UP!” The rifle hit my shoulder, cheek to the comb and I whipped off a quick miss.
A bullet hit the concrete a foot away, spraying my face with small bits before whining away as a ricochett. Another deliberate shot came near Jacob making him duck reflexively.
The one that had crossed the road was just finishing a mad dash towards us and had made twenty yards. Seeing me bringing the rifle to bear, he fired from the hip and dove behind a decorative wall.
Another pair of well aimed shots made us duck again. “Where's that coming from?”
“Left side of the first SUV, using the engine for cover. I haven't been able to get a hit on him.”
“I'll take him. Concentrate on our runner.” I snuck a peak in time to see him finish another dash, accompanied by a couple of rounds fired at us.
I swapped the AR for the 70 and ducked back behind the wall and moved ten feet to the side. Mentally picturing where the front of the SUV would be. Rifle at the high ready I raised up and brought the scope to my eye, catching the marksman off guard. He was looking for me where he'd last seen me. He realized his mistake when I popped up and he quickly tracked his muzzle to my new position. Two hundred yards with a scoped 30-06 is by no means a challenge.
His head distorted, haloed by a spay of blood, bright in the morning's light. Running the bolt was automatic, way below concious though as I looked to see where the runner was.
Jacob had him pinned behind a large tree about fifty yards out. We weren't taking anymore fire at this point, and all three of us realized it at the same time.
“Give it up! All your friends are dead!”
We gave him a moment to think about it. He tossed out his rifle and slowly stood, oddly shy. He took a step out into the middle of the road.
“Boom!” Jacob's round took him square in the sternum. He looked down at his chest, and then up at Jake, disbelief, anger, and disappointment taking their turns in his expression before he colapsed, knees buckling, leaving him in a heap.
“BamBaBamm, Bam!” Shots rang out all around us. But they weren't coming from the SUVs. We'd been flanked!
As I watched, Jacob was thrown side ways. A boulder had saved me so far. Looking to our left where the shots had come from I didn't see anything at first. Another burst and I saw the muzzle flashes as a couple of gang members leap-frogged towards us, only fifty yards away.
The first SUV had kept on going and looped around, passing Drake's Seat and coming down past the church and Sib's bar. They must have parked around the corner because it was out of sight.
I tagged one of the runners, aiming down the rifle barrel rather than trying to track a close moving target through a nine power scope. He tumbled to a stop. This earned me a flurry of shots spranging off the boulder. Running the bolt I transferred the rifle to my left shoulder and leaned around the left side of the big rock, having just enough time to whip off a shot at the second runner.
The hurried shot knocked his leg out from under him. Holding the rifle into my shoulder with my left hand, I ran the bolt with my right and then went for the anchoring shot.
The “Click!” left me with a picture of the AR, the Krink and the two boxes of ammo ten feet away. It was also answered by another spate of shooting towards me.
Jacob hadn't moved since he'd been hit. I was furious at myself and frustrated that I couldn't get over there to check on him. Pulling my Glock I leaned out around the right side of the boulder and put a couple of careful rounds at the spots where I'd seen muzzle flashes. A yelp let me know I'd gotten a piece of one of them. Didn't sound solid though.
Transitioning to the pistol to my left hand I paid some attention to the other spots I'd seen shooters. Sights, press. Sights, press. Sight, press. I must have been doing some good with the pistol because no one else tried to advance on my position.
There was no way that I could get to my gear. If I showed myself even a little, I drew fire from four or five guns. We've got a stalemate here at the moment, I thought as I exchanged the empty mag for a fresh on in my pistol. A stalemate as long as my ammo holds out.
I leaned out slightly around the right side of the boulder, just in time to see one of the gang bangers running away. My heart leapt at the thought that they were retreating. But it was only one of them. My elation quickly disappeared when the runner took a right hand turn up a driveway and up hill. Soon he'd be above me and able to shoot down on me, past my covering boulder. I tried to track him and fired a couple of shot, which served only to spur him on to sprint faster.
I'd let him distract me and I spent too much time too much exposed. The round hit me mid forearm. Bright red artireal blood pulsed from my right arm. I collapsed as much as dropped purposely behind the boulder.

My back to the boulder, I used a stick to drag my Glock to me from where I'd dropped it. It looked fine. I popped a couple of rounds off to let them know that I was still dangerous then set it down next to me.
The CAT tourniquet came off my plate carrier and I fumbled with it left handed, thanking myself for having it staged for one handed use and for practicing exactly what I needed to do right now. Slipping it over my arm, getting it slick with my blood, I moved it as high as I could get it, pulled the end to snug it up, stuck it to the velcro and started turning the windlass. The bleeding slowed and I gave it another half, incredibly painful turn and secured the rod and locked it down.
I'd been quiet for thirty seconds or more. Pistol in left hand I went prone and wiggled around the left of the boulder. The gang banger was expecting to see me on the other side of the boulder. He was fifteen feet from me walking cautiously, hunched over, with his partner a few feet behind him.
My haste resulted in me posting the front sight. I saw it just as the shot break. The round that I'd meant for center mass took him in the throat. He dropped like a sack of potatoes. Must have taken the spine. Partner went into body alarm reaction from getting a face full of gore. Head turned away, arms came up to protect the head, as he crouched and turned away from the threat.
I pitched a shot at him which missed, but sent him scurrying away. I wanted to fire again, but didn't try, feeling the slide go back, but not forward into battery.
Back behind the rock a quick peek told me it was slide lock on an empty mag, not a jam from limp wristing it with my support hand, shooting from an unconventional position. Hitting the mag release with my left index finger I shook the empty mag out and put the pistol between my knees, mag well up. Finding my last magazine I slammed it home, renewed my grip and used the trigger finger to run the slide release.
Dropping another one of their boys gave them pause, and my next peek didn't reveal anything. A minute went by, then another. They were too quiet.
Feet hitting the pavement preceded the shots by a second. Bullets were hitting the boulder and all around it. The guy up the hill didn't quite have a shot on me, but between him and the other shooters, I was totally pinned. They were going to get me this time.
I had, maybe, a slight chance. Just as the artilery barrage has to lift to let the infantry attack, so these guys would have to stop shooting as the runner got close to me. If I was lucky, and moved at just the right time, I might be able to get him before he got me.
I made peace with myself, knowing I'd disappoint Sadie by not making it back and I felt awful for losing Jacob. But if nothing else, we'd put a big hurt on the gang that was causing trouble for us, and would only cause more if we didn't act.
I was expecting the shooting to stop suddenly just as the runner got to me, but instead the shooting intensified. That didn't make any sense at all. I risked a peek and saw that another group of shooters had come in from behind the gang bangers. Had the Frenchies come to the rescue?
A round hitting the dirt a foot away from me reminded me of the guy on the hill. I curled up tight against the rock and he didn't waste anymore shots on me.
The shooting stopped suddenly. “Zed!”
Relief flooded over me. I took a deep breath. “Yesi mi boi!”
“Whatcha sayin' kat?”
“Did you get the one on the hill to your left? He went up that driveway.”
Hill Boy fired another handful of shots at me. I guess he took exception to having his location given away. I went supine and eased out so I could return fire. He was just finished moving to a new location and I got a round off before he could fire at me. I fired a shot a second, fixing him. Now it was him that couldn't move.
I hoped Lyle could read my mind and take advantage of what I was doing. Soon. In ten or twelve seconds I'd be out of ammo. Just as my slide locked back, a rifle spoke from lower on the driveway. Hill Boy toppled over from behind the tree he was using as cover from me. There you bastard! How do you like being flanked?
“Coming out!” I stood shakily and stuck my empty pistol in my belt, unable to reach the holster on the other side of my body. I rushed to Jacob. He was unconcious but still had a pulse. There wasn't much blood. Looking him over I found an entry wound. Being flanked, one of the gang bangers managed to put a bullet into the arm hole of Jake's body armor.
He was very pale and his breathing was labored. Lyle ran up and frowned when he saw the boy.
“Are you on foot?”
“Yes, we were waiting for you at the road block. We came when we heard the shots.”
I didn't bother answering. Moving to where my Krink lay, I pushed the safety down and scooped it up in my left hand. I took off running down hill to where the two SUVs were stopped. Amazingly the second one was still running. I pulled on the door handle but it was locked.
Reaching in though the missing window I hit the lock and yanked the door open. The driver stared lifelessly. Tossing the Krink past him onto the passenger seat I grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the car. I jumped in, heedless of the broken glass everywhere.
The SUV was still in drive. Reaching over with my left hand I put it in reverse, jumped on the accelerator, spinning the wheel to get free of the rolled vehicle in front of me. The left front wheel thumped over the body of the driver.
Reaching back over I crammed it in drive and floored it, rear tire spinning, as I thumped over the body again.
I slid to a halt by where we'd had our stand. I was getting tired of being one handed as I slammed the selector into park.
Lyle was standing next to Denise who was on her knees next to Jacob. Sadie seeing me for the first time ran to me and hugged me. She stood back and cringed at the sight of my arm. It wasn't that bad, really, with neat entry and exit holes but was totally covered in blood.
“Comeoncomeoncomeon!” I hoped me opening the rear door would give them the idea. Juice tweaked to it right off and grabbed Jacob's feet. Lyle grabbed the top of his plate carrier and the two of them lifted him up and over the wall and to the SUV. I'd located the seat releases and laid them down flat.
We got him in the back and Denise climbed in next to him and started to run an IV, hanging the precious bottle from the clothes hook above the window. While she did that, Juice and Leslie got rid of the windshield. It was so starred by bullet holes that you couldn't see through it well.
George came up to me looking worried. “We got here as fast as we could. As soon as we heard the shooting. I'm sorry about the boy.”
I didn't have time to sooth his feelings. “Tell your people to collect all the weapons. Remember the guy up on the hill, and you're coming with me, Get in up front!”
I jumped behind the wheel, yanking the shifter into drive while Juice, Leslie, Sadie, and Lyle quickly found places. I was hard on the gas before the last door closed.
Coming around the first corner I saw that last SUV.
“We should have taken that one.” Leslie said.
“I didn't know where it was. Do you know where the keys are?” I looked at him in the mirror and he looked away. I didn't care about that I'd hurt him.
As we approached the first of the Frenchie road blocks I told George to get ready to climb out the window so they would know who it was.
The guards were surprised to see us. There was only two, George having pulled the rest to come to our rescue. They moved the car out of the way quickly, but it seemed to be an excruciatingly long time.
I drove through when the opening was just barely big enough and then hammered it. I thrashed car and passengers mercilessly.
We came up on the next road block from behind. There were more people here and George jumped out and helped move the blocking vehicle.
“Do you need me to come with?”
“No! Thanks! Really. Thanks!” And the hammer came down again. The engine was starting to knock and a quick look at the gauges showed the temperature going up.
Going down a long steep stretch, I put it in neutral. Holding the steering with my knee while I snaked my left hand over to the shifter, nearly losing it. I hoped this would help the engine stay cool.
The gauge crept up a bit more, three quarters to the top and touching the beginnings of the red mark. Bottom of the hill it was back in drive and back on the gas. “Bring a radio?”
“Yes” Juice pulled it out of a pouch.
“Call ahead. Tell them to get your truck out of the chicane and to tell the doctor he has a patient.”
The engine was fully in the red, with the needle hard against the stop when we hit the top of our road. I made the turn and got it back into neutral. The chicane was clear when I snuck through, angry at having to go so slow to get through it.
I carromed through our narrow streets, back in neutral, the engine having finally died. We carried just enough moment for me to pull it across Jacob's lawn and up to the front porch, at the cost of some lawn furniture.
People came rushing out of the house and helped with Jacob. I opened the door stepping out. Little pin pricks of light started at my peripheral vision and grew, as the center grew dark.
And the ground came up to meet me.

 

Great story! Great read!

 

Yep, reality sucks…even when you're winning there is pain and suffering for all…enough to go around for sure!

 

moar

 

Great story, I feel like I'm there with you in the thick of battle. As real as a story gets!!!

 

... and piper slumps back into the chair, that he had been on the edge of since the first sniper shot...
"Whew Zen..., well I guess you can't kill off Zed... since, he needs to come 'full circle'..."

 

Zed be getting over it, he has heads to chop and enemy to terrorize. Gotta be proud of your enemy…they really hate you and intend to kill you, nothing half way about them no matter how stupid they act some times…and Zed be knowing that!

 

I couldn't believe it! Somehow Threeballz had survived my sniping attack. I guess none of my three hits was fatal. His crew must have gotten him some doctor to fix him up.
Waves of despair took turns with abject failure. My shoulders slumped with the weight. Jacob's death was a total waste if we hadn't at least accomplished killing the gang leader.
We faced off, Threeballz, machete dangling from his hand. I watched at the blood dripped off it and splashed in the rapidly forming puddle. Blood from the bodies strewn behind him. There was Daniels and Wilford, heads separated from their bodies. Denise's vacant eyes stared at me accusingly.
Threeballz took another step, in no hurry, savoring the moment. I stepped back involuntarily, stepping on something squishy. Risking a look down I saw it was a hand. Not attached to a body.
I brought the pistol that was already in my hand up and saw that the slide was locked back. I hit the mag release and pulled a spare out of a pouch on my belt. I tried to cram it in the pistol but it wouldn't go. How did I end up with a Beretta?
Of course my Glock magazines aren't going to fit.
I kept back pedaling as Threeballz advanced, frantically looking for a spare magazine. There! A pouch on a body! I pulled a mag out. Wrong kind! I kept looking, going from body to body to body. Nothing!
Sadie saved me. Her lifeless hand held a Beretta magazine. Despondency threatened to pull me under. I fell to my knees and wept. Everyone I cared about was dead. I'd screwed up. I'd failed to stop the threat. These people counted on me. They trusted me.
Threeballz' shadow slid across the ground towards me. I carefully, lovingly opened Sadie's cold fingers and pulled out the magazine. Slamming it in place, my thumb found the release sending the slide home. The gang leader didn't seem worried that I was about to shoot him.
I struggled with the sight picture, it didn't want to cooperate. I really concentrated on it and found the front sight and put in on the banger's chest. I pressed the trigger. Nothing! I pressed harder. Still nothing. I checked the safety which was off and tried again.
I pulled harder and harder and harder. The pistol finally went off. But there was no effect. I don't know if I hit him or not. Fighting through another incredibly long and impossibly hard pull I fired again and again. Threeballz was in no hurry. He knew he'd won.
He stood over me and raised the dripping machete high overhead, taking a tow handed hold he paused just a second and then brought it down.
“Sweetie! Sweetie, wake up!” I came to the surface, instantly awake, relieved at the realization that it was just a dream, then, as my brain ran through the systems checks of the wake up routine, orienting myself with consciousness, it got to THAT point.
“Jacob?!”
“He's not good.”
I looked around and saw that I was in our bed, in our house. I shifted position, trying to sit up. A shooting pain went up my right arm making me cry out. My systems check hadn't got that far yet and I was rudely reminded of my wound. Trying to get through the last cobwebs, my mind made the connection.
“So he's still alive?”
Sadie held out a cup with a straw and wouldn't answer until I took a sip of sweet fruit juice. The sugar hit my brain with a rush, and more and more came back to me.
“Yes. Barely. Doc Shoemacher operated on him. It doesn't look good.”
I slumped back down. Defeated.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm going back to sleep.”
“Oh no you're not. Come on, you need to get up. Move around, use the bathroom.”
I let her help me out of bed. I was sore and ached all over. When I was sitting up, Sadie handed me a several pills and held the cup again.
“What's this?”
“Antibiotics and pain meds.”
I picked out the analgesics and took the antibiotic.
“What are you doing?”
“I deserve to be in pain.”
She glared at me but didn't argue. Taking my arm she got me up on my feet and set me on course to the bathroom. While I did my business I asked. “How long?”
“About twenty four hours.”
I managed to get back up and headed back to the bedroom.
“Where do you think you're going?”
“Back to bed and back to sleep.”
“You've been asleep for a full day. You need to move around, get outside. Come on, you can sit in the Sun for a while.”
I saw there was no arguing with her, and the easiest thing was to comply. The pups were happy to see me, sniffing at my wounded arm worriedly. I gave them half hearted pets as I shuffled past on my way to the porch where I dropped in a chair.
The dogs wouldn't give up and stuck their noses under my arms, hurting the right one.
“Go on! Get!” They stopped, immediately looking hurt and moved a short distance away and laid down.
“They missed you. They didn't deserve that.”
“They hurt my arm!”
“They didn't mean to. You know that. What's wrong with you?”
I shot her a withering look, but didn't say anything. I turned my head away and glared at nothing in stony silence.
“Don't you shut me out!”
I kept quiet. What did I have to say? Thoughts ran through my head, none of them good. But I couldn't, wouldn't articulated them. I couldn't get them past my mouth. They were trapped in here with me.

 

“There's someone here to see you.”
“I don't want to see anyone.”
“Whatcha sayin' Kat?” Lyle pushed a big smile on his face which ill concealed the concern behind it.
I wanted to be rude, to tell him to go on, like I had the dogs. But I couldn't quite manage it. But, like with Sadie, I didn't know what to say. That barrier was still on my mouth.
I pushed and managed, “How ya doing brother?”
Lyle sat and Sadie set him up with a cool drink and left. I looked back out at the horizon.
“I'm doing OK. I worried about you though. Sadie came to get me. When I asked about you she said your arm was ok but you were acting like an asshole.”
I shot him a look.
“Her words, not mine” he held his hands up placatingly. I went back to my vacant stare at nothing.
“Looks like she was right.”
“What do you want me to say? That I screwed up? I know that. I know I blew it. I know that I probably got Jacob killed. And for what? Killing Threeballz didn't help. Somebody else stepped right in and took charge. I didn't accomplish a thing. Not a damn thing, except to get a young man killed!”
“Oh.”
“Oh, what?” I demanded.
“You're feeling sorry for yourself. There's probably some survivor's guilt mixed in.”
“I'm not feeling sorry for myself! What I'm saying it the truth.”
“You're mad at yourself for Jake's getting shot. Did you shoot him?”
“You know I didn't. I get what you're saying. I didn't pull the trigger, but I put him in harm's way. My decision.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, what?”
“So you ordered Jake to go with you.”
“You know I didn't.”
“So it was his choice then.” Statement, not a question.
“Was it? He looked up to me. If I asked him to do something he did it. He never turned me down. He couldn't”
“So he was a mindless puppet?”
“Damn you, no! You know what I mean!”
Lyle changed tack. “Ok, you screwed up. Now what?”
I didn't answer. I didn't have an answer.
“Just going to sit here?”
“I can't do anymore harm if I sit here.”
“Not doing any good, either.”
More silence from me.
“Just sitting here, not helping, doesn't that cause harm?”
I went back to my sulking, not like being dragged into being hit with logic.
“Listen. I know you need some time. But we don't have much. We need you back. “To do what? Get more people killed?”
“Maybe. Possibly. If we get attacked, we may have some people killed or injured. If you just sit here and do nothing it will be worse. You want that on your head?”
“I don't want any of it! I didn't ask for it!”
“Didn't you?”
I didn't answer because we both knew the truth.
“You're the one that started getting the neighborhood organized, ready for what you knew was coming. How many people have you already saved? People that would have been raped, injured, killed if you hadn't gotten people working together? How many would be starving if you hadn't managed the food situation?”
“Nobody's going to listen to me, even if I did come back.”
Lyle snorted.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Man, you need to get your head together brother. People are asking how you are, worried about you. They keep asking how long before you are up and around. They're looking for their leader.”
“They don't want me for a leader. If they do, then they're nuts. Lavell can do it. He's got military experience.”
“He's one of the ones that's asking the loudest. Sadie keeps having to put him off. He's here like every hour asking if he can see you so he can ask you what he wants you to do.”
“He knows what to do. Better than me. He'll be fine.”
“You don't get it. He needs you. He, and everyone else has accepted you as leader. That's huge. That's a responsibility you don't just get to put down brother. You may not like it, but you're stuck with it. Besides, Jacob still needs his mentor.”
“If he makes it. Sadie said that's questionable.”
“I just came from there. He's stabilized and the Doc's hopeful.”
I looked at Lyle, searching his face for any signs of deception. I found none.
“You better not just be pumping sunshine.”
“From what he's saying, Jacob turned a corner this morning and seems to be improving.”
We sat unspeaking for a while, Lyle letting me cogitate. My unfocused stare started to come into focus. I could see the leaves on the trees and was aware of the trade winds, cooling my brow.
Sadie came back to freshen Lyle's drink. Her timing was suspicious and led me to believe that she hadn't been too far away.
“You get his attitude straightened out?”
“I think so ma'am”
“That's good. Because I was about to put my boot firmly up his ass if he didn't stop with that crybaby crap.”
“So Zed owes me one.”
“I'd say. At least one.”

 

Are we down to five readers?

 

Still reading.

 

Kuel move…take it all the way down, giving all of us and our 'hero' a place to come up from with a roar…loving the story; my eldest son is home from the US Army with 2 tours of Iraq and 2 of Afghanistan so there has been a bit of a distraction…but keep writing, it's moving and full of surprises.

 

Are there any statistics on 'how many' people are reading? You have at least 5 people who seem to want to reply and give thanks with 'likes'.
I'm waiting for each installment, of the coolest and most unique survivalist story I've read, maybe.. ever. Even Rawles could learn a thing or two about integrating useful knowledge into a storyline with realistic dialog...
Keep it up, when you're done, you'll have a winner on Amazon... I'll be glad to post a review.
PS: 17, 335 views, ain't too shabby... with only 5 folks? hmm...

 

I wanna near that the toads cooked and ate 3balls after he was so disabled by the gunshot wounds that his own 'brothers' finished him off…butchered him and made a meal for all with the remains…maybe skin him out for gloves and sheet like dat! ;-)

 

I'm in agreement with bagpiper.


Original Work The Unwelcome Sign
Zengunfighter, Dec 7, 2013 ... 38 39 40
Replies:
397
Views:
17,359
People have viewed this thread 24 times since bagpiper posted his last reply 57 minutes ago. The readership for this story is solid. I have suggested that those people who read the story should respond with a like. I have done this consistently myself, but that maybe just be me. The other thing to bear in mind, is that many readers are not actually members of SM and may not have posting or liking privileges. Considering that other survival fiction stories here have far fewer responses and views, and the fact that folks have viewed your work 17.35K times is a good acknowledgement of your work.

 

Thanks. I forgot to look at the 'views'. I have some regulars that post encouraging comments, but all in all this is a quiet site. Maybe I'm just used to more 'boisterous' forums.
Readers are what keep me going.