Lights Out In America’s Dairyland: An EMP Adventure

By Victor Marbury

Copyright 2014 Victor Marbury

Author’s note

What started out as a project to keep my writing skills sharp during an off period of school morphed into the book you are reading now. I’ve always enjoyed reading books about preppers and the adventures they go through after an apocalypse so I thought I would try to write one of my own. The story occurs in Southeastern Wisconsin, and many of the places described therein exist. The road traveled by Ben and his friends exists as well, although distances might be a bit off. Finally, any character in the book is just that, a character, and any real or implied connection to a real person living or dead is purely co-incidental. Also, I might mention certain products during the telling of this story, but I am not advocating them in any way. Choose the stuff you like and stick with it!

Chapter 1

Today started just like every other day; I got up out of a nice bed the hotel provided, cleaned myself up and went to the lobby to take advantage of the free breakfast the hotel lays out every morning.  As I loitered in the lobby over my cup of coffee, I idly watched the news, barely noticing that the pert and attractive newscaster was talking about how NASA scientists were baffled by the Sun’s behavior. The news report cut away to a scientist explaining that the sun had suddenly gone quiet after the flurry of activity 5 days previously. The usual activity on the surface of the sun suddenly ceased its routine cycle that was once very predictable. As the news droned on, I contemplated my day….I was in the final stage of police bicycle training in Madison, Wisconsin, and I was not looking forward to it.  I had worked for the Milwaukee Police Department for about 17 years, rising to the rank of Sergeant. I had my share of police-related “excitement” and was currently assigned to a desk job that was not necessarily challenging, but hey, it could be a lot worse. I’m an avid long distance rider, who has been on several charityrides and bicycle tours in both America and Europe over the years.  I was not,however, Lance Armstrong,  and I loved my beer and brats (after all, I am from Wisconsin) so I was a bit rounder that the average cyclist, but that’s the way many police officers look nowadays. Seeing that I was rapidly becoming a part of my office chair, my boss convinced me to get my pasty, white behind on the bicycle unit for the department. Wanting to please my boss (and wanting not to displease him), the time came and I went to training in Madison, Wisconsin.  I had ridden in the area before so I had a good working knowledge of the area, and I had to admit, it was a very bicycle friendly place.

Today was the final testing phase, and I had done well up to this point, but I seemed to be having trouble with one of the instructors, his name was Gary Schneider, and he was a maximum tool…. He thought he knew everything there was to know about police cycling and was very condescending to the new riders when they had questions. But he seemed to be focusing on me, almost daring me to make a mistake. The most humorous thing about him is that he was thin and birdlike with a twitchy Barney Fife demeanor. He certainly did not look like a typical cyclist; most of them are in excellent shape with well-definedleg muscles due to miles in the saddle. Schneider reminded me of the kid that got beat up a lot in high school, and became a cop so he could have his revenge on his tormentors. Unfortunately, he forgot that cop life is a lot like high school…but with guns.  Lots of guys in smaller departments had that “something to prove” disease, and traditionally they made sure that guys from bigger Departments suffered their wrath.  I finished breakfast, grabbed the remainder of my gear from my room and checked out so I could leave directly from training back to Milwaukee once we finished.  I packed the mighty Subaru and made my way to the training site at the Dane County Fair Grounds. I stopped for a cup of coffee from the local coffee shop because the coffee at the hotel was shit, and arrived to see several others preparing their gear in anticipation of the final day.

Just as I was unloading my bike, Gary stepped up to me and said in an attempt at a menacing tone, “you know what the penalty for failing is Clark?”

“No, I don’t, ”I replied in a mild tone. I suppose you line us up out in the back and shoot us?”

Gary’s face became red, and he yelled “No smart guy, you get to go back home and explain why you’re such a failure to your bosses!”

I had enough of this toolbox,so I figured that he needed a verbal slap delivered, and I was just the person to do it.

“Look fuck face, you might be in charge of this little training class, but don’t forget, I fucking outrank you, I have more experience than you with cycling, and darn it, I’m just better looking than you…..so kindly drop the threats and get on with it Schneider!”

I removed my bike from the car rack and rode off to join with the rest of the members of the training group. When I arrived at the collection of 20 riders from about 5 different Departments, I was greeted cordially with several “Morning, Ben’s” and a few handshakes from the guys I had become acquainted with over the course of three days.

Police training is a different beast than any other type of development courses a regular corporate guy might go through. The first day is usually circling each other like sharks to figure out what the score is. In this stage, you try to identify who the stars are more than likely going to be, who the tools and potential failures are, and who is just there to get their ticket punched and move on. I was probably just a ticket puncher, but for the most part I enjoyed training and tried to make the best of the situation. The first night usually involves the majority of the other students consuming a quantity of alcohol for socialization purposes and by the second day working friendships form as people begin to gel around the training and each other. If there are any other days, business cards get passed; more post training drinking happens, and you leave training with a few acquaintances and maybe a friend or two.

In this class, we were assigned a partner, and boy, did I get a great one! Her name was Simone Brown,and she was six feet of black dynamite, to borrow a phrasefrom many Blaxploitation epics of the 1970’s. To say she was outspoken was an understatement, she was smart as a whip and easily mastered every technique that Toolbox Gary threw at her. She worked for the Waukesha County Sheriff’s Department as a road Deputy, and I can safely say I would not want to see her in my rear view mirror while speeding! During training, I got to know Simone a bit and enjoyed her company, once you got past the tough exterior, she was a warm and personable lady, and she was driven to succeed. She grew up in Milwaukee in the north central part of the city …..not exactly a garden spot. Her interior resilience and exterior toughness served her well.  Also, the unwavering belief that there was something out there that was better than a monthly welfare check and a few babies from different men. Her drive got her into Waukesha County Technical College and hired by the Sheriff’s office on graduation.  At 24, she was the youngest female Road Deputy in the county and had a reputation for being extremely competent and fair-minded. 

Simone had overheard the exchange I had with Schneider, “You know, for a cracker, you got yourself a pretty sharp tongue.”

I gave her the stink eye and began to check over my bicycle in preparation for class, smiling to myself and wondering if Simone had called anyone else cracker in her entire life.

Schneider briefed us on what we were going to do, starting with a road ride to test our competence on leading a large group of cyclists in active traffic. Group riding was difficult because the guy at the lead was inherently responsible for the entire group’s safety, and riding in traffic was not one of the skills an average person had having abandoned their bicycles the moment they got their driver’s licenses.

“Clark! Take us out!” bellowed Schneider. I set the group up for single file formation, and we headed out into traffic. We rode for about a mile in rush hour, doing double and single file formations to ensure that everyone was comfortable with their role.  Everyone did well. I signaled the group to re-form into single file formation, and we began to slow as we approached a main intersection. However, I misjudged how close we were to the intersection and a few guys in the back were unable to fold into a single file line, so we ended up in a sort of a single/double formation, not the end of the world, but Schneider seized the opportunity to embarrass me.

He pulled up next to me and said, “That’s strike one Clark,” before riding away and denying me a chance to respond.  I gathered myself and headed back out into traffic with the group continuing to practice the skills the leader needed to master.

As I approached a second intersection, I was directed by Schneider to make a left turn, so I signaled a left turn with my arm, heard the call “Left turn” resonate down the line behind me, and began to lead the group to the left. Without warning, Schneider rode up on my right side and said “I said right turn Clark. That’s strike two” before fading back into the middle of the pack. It was then I realized that there was no way I was going to pass the course with Schneider rating me. It pissed me off, but I decided to bide my time and think about how I was going to respond after this ride was over. I was replaced as the lead so the next rider could have a chance, and I faded to the rear to take up my correct position.

We rode for miles, each rider taking a turn as leader with Schneider hounding each of them. It appeared to me that Schneider enjoyed forcing the students to make mistakes, giving him the opportunity to berate them on their performance. Finally, when we returned to the fairgrounds, Simone approached me and said, “What’s that asshole’s problem? What the fuck’s he riding you for?”

“I suppose you could ask all the other guys he was treating the same way, but for me, who knows, sister.  He and I just don’t see eye to eye.” I affected a British accent and said, “Perhaps, dear lady he doesn’t like the cut of my jib.”

Simone said, “Fuck that; he’s deliberately trying to fail you and it ain’t fair.”

“Don’t worry Simone I’ll figure something out, whatever happens I’ll deal with him.”

As the warm August afternoon faded, we all were successful in passing our skills tests, much to the chagrin of Schneider. As we were finishing and preparing for our graduation photo, Schneider and another deputy trainer named Karlinski approached me, “We’re  going out on another road ride, I didn’t like they way you did the first one.”

“That’s bullshit, why didn’t you just fail me out there like you wanted to?”

Schneider frowned, “I had a meeting with the other trainers and they decided to give you a second chance.”

“So, this is what double secret probation looks like huh, you pissant?” I replied, giving Schneider the full-on stink eye.

Schneider turned red in the face and said, “This is your last chance Milwaukee. You fuck this up, and you fail!”

Just as I was about to move on Schneider and snap him like a toothpick, Simone intervened and separated us with her massive form and yelled, “Schneider, you’re out of line!” and pushed him away with the slightest flick of one of her hands. She then turned to me and said, “Do what he wants Ben, but I‘m coming along to make sure you get a fair shake.”

Meanwhile, 93 million miles away at the center of the solar system…..

Four days previously, the surface of the sun convulsed in an extreme burst of activity. Although the light and some energy in the form of X-Rays reached the earth quickly and made a brief show for those who could see the northern lights, the extremely large energy pulse that followed at a much slower pace was far more dangerous. Days later when it arrived, the earth’s magnetic field helped mitigate some of the damage, but a great deal of energy still got through in the form of a massive electromagnetic pulse and the destructionof all electronic devices on the planet began. Most people did not notice that there was a problem until their car stalled for no apparent reason or their cell phone conversations ended abruptly. However, anyone flying in an airplane when the pulse struck could only scream helplessly as their aircraft plummeted to earth.  In some places, people saw overhead power wires burst into flames and melt in seconds. The inhabitants of planet earth had just re-entered the 19th Century…….unfortunately many did not realize it until it was too late.

Back on Earth seconds after the EMP

We saddled up and headed out into traffic, me in the lead, Simone in the middle and Karlinski and Schneider in the rear. The ride was going along great; I was able to counter every one of Schneider’s efforts to get me to make a critical mistake. I was beginning to believe that I had this locked up when I noticed a large tractor-trailer coming from the left. I yelled “truck left!” to alert everyone to the moving hazard headed toward us per the rules of road cycling. As I approached the intersection, I thought to myself, “This truck is heading towards us pretty fast…..” a second before I realized that it was going to collide with our group. I yelled “Look out!” and headed towards a drainage ditch at the shoulder of the road that offered an escape route from the fast moving truck. Simone followed me, but Schneider and Karlinski didn’t hear me and the truck hit them both. The truck then collided with the concrete abutment of the drainage ditch. In the drainage ditch, Simone and I were scraped and wet, but unhurt. We emerged from the ditch to a chaotic scene, what was once an orderly traffic intersection became a massive car pileup with several vehicles on fire and people milling about unsure what to do next. I reached for my cell phone to call for help and noticed that the screen was blank, which was unusual. I knew that my phone was on when I left the training ground, so I wondered if my bailout broke my phone and quickly turned to Simone.

“Simone, my phone is not working, call someone on yours, let’s get these people some help,”

Simone said, “That’s funny….mine isn’t working either.”

I looked at my brand new G-Shock watch and noticed that the screen there was also blank with no display showing. What I saw next convinced me of my worst fears, A 737 with Air Tran markings was doing a flat spin out of the sky and belly flopped about a quarter mile from our position into the intersection full of disabled autos and a milling crowd with a very large BOOM! I grabbed Simone and headed back into the ditch as I felt a blast of heat from the burning fuel as it licked at my back. The ditch protected us from the heat and flames from the burning cars and airliner. I looked at Simone, who was sprawled in the ditch beside me looking in the direction of the carnage with wide eyes and open mouth.

After a moment, I shook her and said, “We got to get the fuck out of Dodge woman, grab your bike and let’s go!”

She sprang into action, and we made our way to our bikes and rode as fast as we could back to the fairground. As hard as it was, we ignored the calls for help and the screams emanating from the ruined intersection.

Chapter 2

We arrived back to the fairgrounds to see our classmates milling about and talking among themselves.  Most of the group were pointing out at greater Madison and commenting on the large plumes of smoke that began to rise from the city. There appeared to be a lively debate between my classmates centering around what had happened and what they were going to do about it. Jim Blankenship, another guy I had begun to form some ties with, broke from the group and approached Simone and Me.

Jim studied our disheveled condition, “Ben, where are Schneider and Karlinski?”

I looked at him and said “those guys are roadkill Jim! They got hit by an 18-wheeler while we were riding about two miles from here. Simone and I barely escaped with our hides! I pointed to a massive plume of smoke in the distance and said “That smoke is from a jet that dropped out of the sky and onto our heads after Schneider and Karlinski died!”

Jim looked at me with disbelief “no way those guys are dead, either you just took off and left them, or they took off and left you and are probably headed back her right now.”

Simone approached Jim and said “Look here fool, Ben said they were dead, and that’s the truth. They got crushed by a truck, and if it weren't for him, I would be crushed with them!”

Jim was still not getting the picture. He paced a bit, and said “we got to call someone from Madison PD so they can get on this.”

I asked Jim if his watch was working; he looked down at the face and said “Shit, it looks like it is dead.”

A quick poll of the remaining cops revealed the same thing, nobody’s watches, phones, bike speedometers, lights, any other electronic equipment was working. When I tried to start the Subaru, I got nothing;the mighty Outback was now a three thousand pound paperweight. I realized what was going on, remembering the newscast from this morning, we got hit with a massive Coronal Mass Ejection from our old pal the Sun! I was reluctant to share my suspicions with the group for fear of spreading panic, and being branded a member of the tinfoil hat brigade, but when I weighed the consequences of not telling them, I simply could not leave my fellow cops in the dark. Some of these people had become friends, and I knew that they had wives, husbands and kids to get home to, so I thought it would be pretty shitty on my part to not inform them as best I could.

I stood on the roof of the mighty Subaru and called for order. Being one of the highest ranking members of the class, most of my fellow students complied.  As the group gathered around the car, I noticed about 5 or 6 people remaining where they were away from me and eyeing me suspiciously.

I said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem. Simone and I witnessed our instructors get killed by a runaway truck, and we saw a commercial airliner fall out of the sky and hit an intersection full of people! Two accidents like this just don’t happen….something is behind this. I have a suspicion that either a natural or man-made incident has occurred which has effectively rendered everything with an electronic circuit useless. If you’re interested in hearing me out, listen on.”

Outside of a few noises of disbelief, the group stayed together and apparently decided to hear what I had to say.

“I suspect that we got hit with CME or Coronal Mass Ejection from the sun. This phenomenon packs massive amounts of energy creates an EMP or electromagnetic pulse, which destroys anything with an electronic circuit.  Like I said before, if you don’t believe me, take a look at your digital watches and cell phones, I would be willing to bet none of them is working right now.”

To further emphasize the point, I jumped off of the top of my car and attempted to start it in front of the group. The car made no noise at all, not even the clicking of the solenoid in the starter.    

“Unfortunately for us, none of our electronics will ever work again. I paused and made eye contact with several of my classmates. Each of us needs to start making some decisions now about the immediate future.”

The crowd of officers burst into conversation, with a heavy dose of panic easily heard over the multitude of voices suddenly asking questions. A guy named Ron asked nobody in particular, “What should we do man, I’m over 100 miles from home.”

Another asked, “Shouldn’t we wait for Madison to show up, after all, two of their guys are dead, at least according to you and Simone.” He then frowned and muttered, “Fuck, how am I going to get home?”

After a battery of similar questions were directed at me, I decided to let them in on my bug out strategy, “I for one am going to get onto my bike within an hourand start making my way back to Milwaukee, anyone headed back east is welcome to join me. As we travel we must keep in mind that society is in shock right now, and it will quickly turn to desperation and panic as people begin to realize that no food will be coming to the stores, power is effectively out forever, and the Government is not coming to help. In short, we are in for a shitstorm, and the quicker we get to our homes and defend what is rightfully ours, the better off all of us will be!”

I got off of my car and began preparations for leaving. I noticed the group gathered around my car begin to break up into smaller knots of conversation, debate and arguments, apparently trying to make the decision to leave or stay.

Part of me could understand why my fellow officers were taking time to debate the situation. Despite the fact that we were trained to take charge of most situations with a minimum of supervision, most cops liked to be given direction by higher authority. Every cop has a story in which the officer took the initiative based on the situation and then pilloried by their superiors and the media for making the wrong decision.  Naturally, the default position of waiting for higher authority for direction often became the preferred mode of operation. I refused to default to that position. It was a lazy way of doing things, and I had enough confidence in my skills to operate autonomously. I felt a degree of contempt for those who let fear of getting in trouble prevent them from acting in their own self-interest. I sighed to myself at their foolishness and began to prepare myself for the journey ahead.

Washington D.C. 4:00pm EST

The President sat in the Oval Office and looked out at the clear blue sky wondering what was going to happen to him and his family. He also wondered how he was going to spin this catastrophic event to his party’s advantage. A Marine General in full battle dress stood before him with a large sheaf of papers in one hand and a pistol on his hip waiting for acknowledgement.

“What’s happening general? How will we be able to get out of this?”

The General, Myron T. Tucker, head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, cleared his throat, “Well Mr. President, we are in some pretty deep shit here. It looks like we experienced a massive Electromagnetic Pulse, so far we haven’t’ been able to determine if it was man-made or natural. Unfortunately for us, our experts estimate that the entire planet has been thrust back into the 19th Century thanks to this event. You have to make some hard choices sir, and quickly! As for our military readiness…..”

The president stood up and rounded the corner of his desk coming face to face with the General, “I don’t care about your precious military machine at the moment Tucker, I really need to know how this disaster going to look to the voters?  I mean; they’re going to direct their anger at the administration and me personally, my party will lose the next election and then my legacy of free healthcare for the poor and my plans for wealth re-distribution from the top down will be stymied.”

The president began to pace the floor in a circle around the general and said. “I mean we knew this could happen and didn’t prepare for it, so it is my fault.” He then paused, “Wait a minute; my predecessor didn’t do anything either. Perhaps I can blame him for it!”

The general’s face hardened, in all his years of serving civilians, this guy took the cake as the most opportunist and feckless leader yet. This aloof, disengaged ninny floated above the fray and pointed fingers at what he believed to be intellectual inferiors of the populace and the opposite party instead of coming to terms with them and working on solutions that benefited the citizenry. This guy was far too concerned about how things looked, and far less concerned about keeping the best country on the face of the earth where it belongs….at the top.

“Well sir, if you want to know about political fallout, I’m the wrong guy to talk to, should I call Ms. Jarrell in?” Seeing the President frown at his answer, he continued, “Sir, our priority is to get you out of Washington DC and into Raven Rock ….we can worry about the voters later.” The general swept his arm towards the doors of the oval office, and the President followed him toward the underground station that would whisk his family and the majority of the Congress and Senate to the secure location at Raven Rock.

Raven Rock was the closest and most modern of the disaster contingency shelters in the U.S. designed to protect critical members of the government from harm if a catastrophic event occurred. Located about six miles from Camp David, it allowed for the quick transport of key people during a surprise attack.  It was a modern marvel, containing its own hardened nuclear reactor, a vast reservoir, and three five-story buildings that would house the offices of the president and the members of the government that were traveling with him. There was food enough to feed the entire party for at least 18 months, and top of the line medical care that could do everything from fixing a broken arm to complex brain surgery. The facility is under guard by special troops selected for their combat skills as well as their lack of attachments in the outside world, that way the troops would not sneak in unauthorized people to the bunker if disaster struck. To get assigned to the “The Rock” is considered one of the greatest honors in the peacetime military, and often ensured a bright future for the lucky members if they completed their tour without any trouble.

The train that transported the President, and Congress would be using was built by a cold war President, who wore titanium toed ass-kicking shoes when dealing with the Soviets at the height of the cold war. The conveyance rivaled Raven Rock in its sophistication, and allowed the President, and a large amount of key personnel to quickly get to safety in the event of a first strike. The train was a modern marvel.The train’s electronics are protected from an EMP, and it had the ability to travel at the unheard of speed of 150 miles per hour to whisk the Government to safety in the event of the unthinkable. The train, nicknamed the Porkchop Express, was lovingly maintained by each administration up until the current one. The President was convinced in his intellectual superiority and believed that everyone in the world loved him so much that he would not need such a device to escape.  He could just talk his way out of any problem because he was so smart…and darn it, people liked him.  So, out with another cold war relic, which he renamed the Pork Barrel express in internal memos, and he got to crow about how he saved the government one million dollars in yearly maintenance costs. That million dollar savings was quickly re-allocated to SSI or some other social program his cronies were championing. The tracks were well maintained at the three stops to keep up appearances, but the other tracks between Washington DC and Raven Rock had severely deteriorated thanks to the damp environment and lack of inspections in the past 5 years.

The president boarded the 20-car train, which held the Joint Chiefs, the Cabinet, and approximately ninety percent of both the senate and congress along with key members of their staffs. The people on the train were the true cogs of the Government, nothing moved without their ok, so technically it was imperative to get them to safety. As the train pulled away from the White House station, most people just settled in for the ride in stony silence. Not because they were forced to sit next to one of their opposite members in the rival party, but because they were all coming to the realization that the parade of treats and toys from their pet lobbyist was over!  Gone were the fancy lunches and secret deals that they thrived on, replaced by the harsh deprivations of bunker living.The silence curdled into dread as the train hurtled towards their new home of Raven Rock.

As the trip progressed in the narrow tunnel leading to Raven Rock, The former Speaker of the House from the West Coast along with the current Speaker of the House, and one of the newest members of the Midwest Caucus made their way to the presidential car.  They planned to voice their concerns about the arrangements for continuing the Government once they arrived at Raven Rock.  While most of the group had agreed that the government should act to help the American people in this crisis, the former speaker had other plans. She devised a plot to cut off the Opposite party’s leadership and key members of the president’s staff from any decision-making roles once they arrived at their new digs. She smiled slightly to herself at her brilliance, although it appeared to be a frown thanks to her most recently botched Botox treatment. If everything went according to her vile plan, she and her minions would be in charge of key swaths of the Federal bureaucracy, in effect forcing the rest of the leaders to go through her and her cronies to get to the President.  The former speaker had little respect for her peers on the other side of the aisle, she firmly believed that they were all stupid and greedy, beholden to conservative interests for their perks. She silently huffed at their selfishness, while pointedly disregarding her own ties to liberal special interests and the benefits that they provided her, like expensive plastic surgery and unlimited campaign funds. She fumed at the current speaker’s classic car collection paid for by the detestable Midwest brother team that championed old forms of power generation. The new Speaker fought in the halls of power to avoid hardening the electrical grid against EMP due to the costs associated with such a move. Also, he was their champion when it came to raising rates on the consumer, leading to bigger profits. She thought to herself, let’s not forget her top party colleague’s burning addiction to cocaine and transgender prostitutes. The gambling interests of the U.S. paid for his pleasures in full. They were poised to take total control of online gambling in the U.S. in exchange for their largesse. And that goddamned goody two-shoes from the Midwest, who despite his carefully maintained image of a squeaky-clean, budget conscious, man of the people, had a string of rough trade lovers in the leather bars of Georgetown. These men were fully financed and kept happy for their services by the powerful agribusiness interests of the Midwest.If any of the whores got the bright idea of talking to the press, they met their end in a lonely corn or soybean field.

She spent years planning this little coup, pre-positioning supplies and cultivating the right people throughout the bureaucracy in order to make her strike brutal and effective. A few carefully planned accidents once they arrived at Raven Rock would quickly take care of a few major players in her way. Also, plausible accusations of sedition, complete with manufactured evidence implicating of all of her enemies would totally clear the way for her and her minions to cement their position with the President. She would gain unfettered access to the power she needed to change the face of the Republic forever!  She thought back to what the President’s first Chief of Staff said all those years ago,“Never let a crisis go to waste”, and she planned on fully exploiting this one for her own benefit.  Her bony hands clenched in anticipation as she fantasized the current speaker standing in front of a firing squad for his crimes, protesting his innocence. And that goody-two-shoes piece of shit from Wisconsin getting waterboarded for information regarding his supposed part in the plot against the President.

The routine inspections that were cancelled by the President would have quickly discovered the fracture in the rail and repaired it at a minimal cost, but in the name of redistribution of federal funds to more “worthy” endeavors, no inspections were done. As the train hurtled along at it’s maximum speed of 150 mph, the front wheels came into contact with an 18-inch fracture on the rail. The rail shattered and sheared in half just as the bullet train’s first axle passed over it. The fracture left no viable track for the following axles to ride over.  The train derailed in the close confines of the tunnel and burst into flames. The Senators, congressmen and women, as well as their staffs, were violently flung about the cars. Those who listened to the warnings about remaining seated with their restraints in place paid with their lives.The unsecured bodies of their compatriots became missles and collided with them resulting in gruesome death. Mass chaos reigned as the train turned on its side and skittered down the track, coming to rest in the broken tunnel a half mile from the shattered rail. The screams and groans of the dying could clearly be heard for miles down the tunnel. The former Speaker struck a windowpane, which shattered and ejected her from the cabin. She rolled along the tunnel floor, her frozen face bouncing along the concrete, eventually coming to rest parallel to the president’s car. One of her $1000 Manolo Blahnik pumps got caught under her while she flopped down the tunnel. The spiky heel buried itself in her left eye socket penetrating her brain, extinguishing her grand plans of takeover, as well as her life. A fire began almost immediately, filling the tunnel with toxic smoke, finishing off the majority of the survivors. The accident occurred just as the President’s wife was standing over her husband and shaking her finger and lecturing her weak husband. Gone was the cultured, properly modulated tones the masses heard as she spoke about transformation and better school lunches, replaced by a ghetto snipe’s screeching tones.

She harped at her husband, “I done told you a second term was a bad idea you fool, now look where you got us…trapped in a hole surrounded by these assholes!”

“But  baby, it was supposed to be all about beneficial transformation through wealth transfer. You remember the chant from the campaign trail….”BTWT for you and me!” The younger generation loved it and voted me in because of it! It would have worked too if the Congress and Senate went along with it!”

“Don’t you but baby me! We could have lived the high life and been taken care of forever, but noooooo, you just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? In case you hadn’t noticed WE ARE THE RICH, and I don’t want to give up one nickel to those dirt-neck leeches in the lower classes! All those motherfuckers in the Congress and Senate are rich too, and they don’t want to give any up either. We are now in the club stupid, so you better get with the program!”

Just before the impact threw the President and his nagging wife about the well-appointed cabin, killing them, the president was thinking to himself, “This just isn’t my day!”

Chapter 3

I suppose you could call me a prepper. From my years in law enforcement, I’ve seen firsthand what people did to each other when the resources they so desperately counted on suddenly ceased to be available. This fact was demonstrated to me about five years into my career.  A massive lightning storm hit several electrical substations in Milwaukee and effectively destroyed the power grid. Most of the city fell into darkness, but the lowest-income and highest crime areas were affected most due to the abuse and neglect of the grid in those areas. It was mere hours before the calls for service tripled and Department resources were quickly overwhelmed. Riots and looting began on the second night, and in several instances rioters and citizens attacked the police. In one instance, a mob severely wounded 2 officers with rifle fire. The mayor just hid in his house with his security detail and issued press releases until the lights came back on five days later. He then painted the police as the aggressors in the press for the use of “unreasonable force” on the poor defenseless masses.  During the course of the outage, the Department suffered injuries to 50 officers due to gunfire and mob attacks, and we were the bad guys? From that day forward, I decided that I was going to be prepared in case such an event occurred again. I did the standard stuff, bought a generator, stored up some water and canned food and re-introduced myself to handguns outside of work. I also began to build a library of useful books and learned to do a few other things that came in handy like fixing bicycles, gun repair, and learning to garden, can the yield from the garden, and make my own jerky using time-tested  natural methods.

As the years went on and my involvement into the prepper lifestyle became deeper, I began to think about the potential disasters that could befall the nation.  I understood that some of the potential disasters  would be devastating no matter how a person prepared. Such as an asteroid hitting the earth (adios muchachos!), or a lightning-fast pandemic that spread around the world in days and killed quickly.  A financial collapse, (the U.S. had been to the precipice) or a war that engulfed the nation were also a difficult to fully prepare for in my opinion.  There were a few plausible incidents that did keep me up nights. I believed that an EMP that took out the electrical grid permanently was one of the most likely scenarios.  Whether it was a rogue nation detonating a nuke over the Continental U.S. or a massive solar flare, and the energy that would accompany it would hit without warning and cause lots of immediate devastation to the electric grid and all other electronic devices. Humans would survive relatively untouched by the effects of such a thing. But those who remained would be thrust into a world without electric power, something that most people couldn't imagine. Hopefully, people would either band together and re-assert some control or go the other way and fight it out with the remaining survivors for resources a’ la’ Mad Max. I was hoping that we banded together, but after almost 20 years studying human nature, I think we were going to have some mohawked bikers prowling the land first, and in pretty short order!

I opened the hatchback of my car and began my preparations to bug out of the present situation. I removed two eight-gallon Rubbermaid Action Packers; they contained my get home/bug out bag and other supplies.  I remembered my ex-girlfriend of a few years ago and several others mocking me for having a bag like this at my office, in my car, and at home. She used to complain about the amount of money I invested in stuff of this nature, because that meant less money for trips to Vegas and Cancun when she could get drunk and fondle other men in the pursuit of “fun." After I kicked her to the curb for fondling other men one too many times, (What can I say, I’m a terrible judge of women,  I settled into a life of bachelorhood and prepping.

I had a pretty comprehensive bag; it contained a couple of changes of socks and underwear; I had shelter in the form of a camouflaged tarp, which could serve as a tent, and a small bedroll consisting of a military issue poncho liner and a thinsleeping mat. I carried a couple of MRE’s, a jar of chunky peanut butter, a pound of quick cook oatmeal, and a small assortment of canned goods including sardines and a couple of bags of beef jerky.  I also carried a couple of pints of Myer’s rum,because sometimes you just need a morale booster.  My food supply included a small bag of condiments including packets of honey, barbecue sauce and red hot sauce that I obtained from various fast food locations, so I could make my meager rations a bit more palatable.

I also had a small cooking set and a collapsible grill so I could cook directly over a fire if necessary. To ensure that I had a fire to work with, I packed several methods to make that fire including a fire steel with flint and magnesium block, a couple of Bic lighters and 4 boxes of wooden matches sealed up in a ziplock bag.

I also carried an assortment of lights and batteries housed in a metal box lined with cardboard with each item wrapped in foil and sealed in metalized bags.  A box constructed like this created a Faraday cage, which was supposed to protect electronic equipment from the ravages of an EMP. I opened up a single flashlight and loaded the batteries into the compartment, closed it up and hit the switch. A bright light emanated from the flashlight, and I breathed a sigh of relief, score one for Beakman’s World and Bill Nye the Science Guy! I decided to keep the remaining lights shielded in case the Sun wasn’t finished with us yet.

I also carried a couple of devices for water filtration, and from my experience in long distance cycling a lot of water was required to maintain stamina and stave off dehydration. I had a Katadyn micro filter which could provide me with about 1250 gallons of purified water as well as a survival straw which could draw water directly out of any standing water source, filter it, and deliver it directly to my mouth. I made a mental note to fill both my 70-ounce camelback as well as my half quart cycling bottles before I split from the two big thermoses that the Madison PD provided to us for training.

A small medical kit rounded out my bag that would take care of most medical emergencies in the field. It also contained a couple of tourniquets, some quick clot bandages, several Israeli bandages and a suture kit to sew up larger lacerations. I also carried pain relievers from past surgeries, aspirin and ibuprofen as well as some anti-diarrheal meds and other stomach discomfort products. I also had a small supply of antibiotics and some triple antibiotic cream. The bag weighed in at 14 pounds….not too bad considering all the stuff I had.

I began to pack my bag with the items in a certain configuration so I could get to the stuff I needed the most as quickly as possible. Once I finished with that, I used a bungee cord I always carried in my car and attached the load to my rear bike rack. One of the nice things the Department allowed me to do was to customize my patrol bike to some degree to meet my personal needs. The Department used Specialized Rockhoppers with disc brakes and lockable forks, giving me excellent stopping power and a great deal of maneuverability in rough or smooth conditions.  I had a local bike shop put on a forty spoke rear wheel and a thirty-six spoke front wheel, which the mechanic said would be bomb proof and would carry any load I decided to attach to the bike. The rims were heavier than most cyclists needed, and added a bit of weight to the overall package, but I thanked my lucky stars I insisted on creating a solid load-bearing machine. I also had a super heavy duty rear rack installed that was rated to carry about 100 pounds that gave me more than enough strength to take all the stuff I would need on this journey.  I took a roll of electrical tape and covered the Milwaukee police sticker on the top tube of the bike to conceal my origins and put my bike aside for a moment.

The next thing I wanted to do was to make my appearance as inconspicuous as possible. If I rode in uniform, I ran the risk of being asked for help, or invite attack from the various jerks that would soon be roaming the countryside. I wanted to look the part of just another guy trying to get somewhere and not looking for trouble, in other words, invisible. Unfortunately, some of the stuff I was carrying, as well as some of the personal gear I would be wearing would betray me as anything but an average Joe. I removed my uniform and put on my Tru-Spec cargo shorts over my lycra bicycle shorts. I debated whether to take my Kevlar vest along; it was hot, heavy, and certainly gave the wrong impression if displayed. But the fact remained that we might be running into some assholes on the road so I decided to keep it on under my blue t-shirt and hoped nobody would notice. I stored the remainder of my uniform in the back seat of my car and shut the door. I then went into the back of my car and lifted the rear rubber mat and retrieved the most important tools I would need on this journey, my guns.

             I have found that in the prepper community, there is lively talk about what kind of guns to possess if the shit really hits the fan. One piece of advice I read said simply, “get a Glock."  Another recommended having five separate firearms including pistols, rifles and shotguns of various calibers and thousands of rounds of ammunition so a person could successfully fight off the hordes of Zombie Nazi Bikers that would inevitably rise out of the ashes to loot and murder. There was little discussion about carrying a gun in the car, so I improvised and came up with my own 2-gun configuration to meet my needs. My first gun is a Generation 2 Glock 22 in 40 S&W. Since coming to the U.S. in the late 1980’s, Glock dominated the police market because it was simple, easy to repair, and extremely durable. It could be neglected for long periods of time and still fire when required. A not so common fact about police officers is that they tend to abuse equipment, so a pistol that could take hard use and neglect was quite attractive to large police forces. I carried a Glock for several years as a police officers and found it to be both tough and reliable.  When my department switched over to the Smith and Wesson, officers were offered the opportunity to purchase their old duty weapons. For the price they were offering, I jumped at the chance.  I also bought a couple of extra ones when they went on the market and stored them with my cache. My original service weapon was stored in my car in a custom made Kydex holster along with three magazines and 150 rounds of hollow point ammunition. My second gun I had was what I lovingly referred to as my “car gun." It was an AR-15, with a 16-inch heavy barrel, flat top for optics, and a Magpul stock, fore end, and grip. I put it together myself for under $600 just after the gun grab panic of 2013.

Once people got wise to the fact that the President was going to use the tragedy of Newtown for his plans to disarm the public, the electorate responded as in any good democracy. Legislators stopped any further regulations from being passed as voters kicked out a few representatives to send the message that the public politely refused to be disarmed slaves under a socialist. Guns and gun parts started to appear on the market, so I set to work building as many AR’s I could before the next pretext to grab our guns revealed itself.

I took the weapon from its locked storage area in the spare tire compartment, pushed home the front takedown pin which joined the two parts of the rifle together and then pushed home the rear takedown pin in, completing the assembly of the rifle. I set the weapon aside and broke out the 9 Magpul magazines and 270 rounds of standard military green tipped ammunition that I carried along with the rifle. I also carried some red tipped tracers mixed in with the standard ammo and 20 red and silver tipped incendiary rounds I picked up on an auction site just in case. With the ammunition laid out in the rear of the Subaru, I began the loading process. Luckily, the bullets I bought came on 10 round stripper clips, so the loading process was pretty easy.

As I was loading, I saw Simone and another guy named Robert break away from the main group and head my way. I continued my task until Simone got off of her bike and said, “Saaaay…..What you got there Ben?” I grinned evilly and replied, “This here is my car gun, her name is Ludmilla.” I said in my best Russian accent.

             Simone covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, “Don’t they only do that in the movies, name their guns I mean?”

              I snorted, “I suppose so, but I wanted to gauge your reaction. Maybe you think I am a nut now?”

              It was Simone’s turn to snort “Nah, but I do think I underestimated you a bit, what other surprises do you got in that car of yours broham?”

              I gave Simone the fish eye….”I just might have a few things for you if you’re nice to me.” I winked at her and continued to load my magazines.

              “Me and Robert want to go with you.  Robert lives in Whitewater and is a UW campus security officer, and you know me, I’m headed to Waukesha.”

              During this exchange, Robert stood mute next to his parked bike. He was squat in appearance, but you could see by his frame he was solidly built, and could probably snap everyone around in half without breaking a sweat. Robert did not stand out much in the class, he preferred to stay in the back row of students and observe, I couldn’t recall him saying ten words past the mandatory meet and greet session that we all had to speak at and give some information about ourselves. As I looked at him, his dark hooded eyes stared back at me impassively, but I could see that he was taking in everything and analyzing it carefully.             

“Is that true Robert, that you want to come with Simone and Me?”

“Yes, if that’s ok by you.  When we get to Whitewater, I‘m sure I could offer you and Simone a place to rest and some supplies.”

I looked at Simone, and she nodded in that sharp and affirmative way she had.

“Ok Robert, you’re coming with us, hopefully by tomorrow or the next day we should arrive at Whitewater.”

              Just as we were making final preparations to leave, Judy, the only other female in the class approached our small group. She was tall and lanky, with a thin, angular face and a bob haircut. She walked with the intensity of a stork; her head jutted forward. Her long legs propelled her at a quick clip wherever she went. She approached  the mighty Subaru with a sour look on her face, which kind of matched our late instructor Gary’s countenance.  I noticed that she and Gary seemed to hit it off right away, and she appeared to hang on his every word and openly flirted with him during breaks.  I noticed that when she heard of the demise of Gary she disappeared for a bit, and when she returned her face was puffy, and it had been obvious she was crying. She pushed through Robert and Simone like they were swinging doors in thesaloon, walked up to me with her awkward stride and said, “Where do you think you’re going?”

              I looked her up and down while I continued to load my magazines, “Out of here and back to Milwaukee; you got a problem with that Judy?”

She sniffed and eyeballed me like she was a miffed librarian, “The rest of us had a meeting and decided to stay together as a group until help comes for us, so you can’t leave.”

She continued to stare at me at me like she found me at the bottom of her shoe. I also noticed she was looking over my bicycle and supplies spread about my tailgate. She looked at me again and snapped, “Did you hear me Ben, you and your friends aren’t going anywhere!” She looked at Simone and Robert with barely contained disgust.

             I began to snicker and stood up off of my tailgate, “Excuse me kitten, but last time I checked, I’ve got hair under my arms and around my privates, so that makes me an adult.  As adults, my friends and I have decided to leave.” I sat back down on my tailgate and continued to load my magazines, “You can’t stop us sweetheart, and if you tried, it would go badly for you.”

I fixed her with a look that could freeze lava, and continued to make my preparations.

             She attempted to return a matching hard look, which failed miserably, and sputtered “We took a vote and decided that you can’t leave, and that’s final!” she stomped her foot to emphasize her point.

              I continued to place bullets into my magazines using the stripper clips. The zzzzzzip of the stripper clipped rounds seating in the magazines filled my ears as I ignored her little speech. I finally looked up from my labor and decided to end this debate once and for all.

              “Who is this nebulous ‘we’? And why did they put you in charge?  Face it lady, you aren’t very scary and I don’t recall voting to place you in charge of this multi-jurisdictional group. I know that my Department would want me to hightail it back to Milwaukee immediately on an occasion like this, so I’m respectfully refusing your request to remain.” I started to pack my magazines in my load-bearing vest and slipped it on when I was done, looking at her as I snapped the plastic buckles into place.

             Judy continued her nonsensical rant as if she hadn’t heard a word I said, “We also decided that you are to hand over your weapons so that we can defend ourselves until help arrives.”

She eyed my AR-15 like it was a venomous snake, but I could see in her eyes that once she saw my weapons, she alone decided that that she would confiscate my weaponfor the common good. It was obvious that the small knot of people that did not want to listen to me earlier decided to follow Judy’s lead and force me to surrender my supplies.

             That was it. I loaded a magazine into the magazine well of the rifle, hit the bolt release, and pointed the muzzle in Judy’s general direction, “Look here you fucking douche bag, I’m not surrendering my weapons to you under any circumstances; you got that straight! My friends and I are leaving once they are prepared, and that’s final. We’ll be history in ten minutes, so in the meantime, I’m going to ask you to take a seat on my tailgate and sit quietly. If you make any attempt to warn your fellow moochers, I will place a 5.56 millimeter bullet right between your eyes without the slightest hesitation.”

Simone had her police issue semi–auto also pointed at Judy out of the view of her little group to further emphasize that were not going to submit to her insane demand.

             Seeing that she had bitten off far too much than she could chew, Judy meekly took a seat on my tailgate and sat quietly while I finished packing my bike. I saw a tear fall from her left eye, and she whispered to nobody in particular, “This isn’t fair, you have so much and the group has so little, you have to share your stuff so we can all survive.”

She began silently to blubber, and I heard her say, “Gary would have forced you to stay, he was so much smarter and better than you…..you asshole!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her feeble attempt at forcing me to submit to her demands.  I couldn’t believe people like her would demand that I sharedmy stuff to help out people who had the same information as me and did nothing to prepare for emergencies.  Now that they were in a jam, they take a page directly from the communist playbook and “decide” as a group to appropriate my stuff and re-distribute it for the betterment of a small group of other people? What did I expect, I thought to myself; Judy had the current President’s motto “Beneficial Transformation through wealth transfer” sticker on her Prius after all!

As I was keeping an eye on my guest, Robert and Simone returned to the mighty Subaru packed and ready to go.  I casually walked over to the water jugs provided to us by Madison and filled my bottles and camelback, along with the water bottles of my friends. I walked back to my Subaru under the watchful eye of Judy’s compatriots, who were standing about 25 yards from the car.  My confederates used their bodies to screen Judy and me from the group. I grabbed Judy’s wrists and affixed her hands to the dog cage in my car with a zip tie from my go-bag. I covered her mouth with a piece of duct tape I had in the storage compartment to ensure her silence for the time being. To the casual observer, it looked like Judy was lounging in the back of my car having a conversation with Simone and Robert.

As we mounted our bikes to leave, I said to Judy, “Just to recap, if you try to warn your friends, I will shoot you. Judy, I don’t bear you any ill will, but this is a new world, and you have to get with the program. Do the right thing and get home as soon as you’re free so you can protect your own. Good luck sweetheart!  To further emphasize my point, I gave her a hearty slap on her butt cheek and causing her to yelp through her duct tape gag.

I rode away from the training ground at a casual clip followed by Simone and Robert. As I suspected, the group did nothing to stop us since their fearless leader appeared to be taking a nap in the Subaru, and not raising Cain as we left. As the fairgrounds receded into the distance,I said to my two companions, “Let’s head for this variety store I know about 5 miles away and see about getting some additional supplies for our journey.” They both agreed and we headed east out of an eerily quiet Madison, with all of us knowing full well that it would not remain quiet for long.

Chapter 4

After riding about three miles, I was sure that Judy and her minions would not pursue us. I think Judy appointed herself leader, and nobody else saw fit to challenge her.  One thing I understand about cops is that nobody wants to be “responsible” for anything be it personnel or equipment for fear of getting jammed up with the powers that be. I supposed that once Judy failed her first test of leadership, getting me to surrender my supplies, the group more than likely collapsed.  And once any semblance of authority collapsed, many of my former classmates would either attempt to head home like I suggested, or sit around and wait for “the Cavalry” to come and save them for as long as they could. Eventually, they would realize the Cavalry was not comingso they would head towards home under much harsher conditions. I wasn’t angry with any of my former classmates, so I sent up a silent prayer that a few caught up to us soon, looking for strength in numbers. I called for a halt behind an abandoned house, and we parked our bikes and started to plan our trip into the store.

“Ok,who has cash?” I pulled out $80.00 and threw it in the pot. Simone produced $39.00 out of one of her pockets and Robert produced $110.00 from three places on his uniform, including the pocket that held his trauma plate.

Simone’s eyes grew wide, “Damn little man, you got anything else we should know about?” Robert smiled and reached into his trauma plate pocket and produced a Keltec .32 ACP pistol.

I whistled, “Nice hideout piece Robert, but put it in a more accessible place for the remainder of our journey, ok?”

Robert put it in the top of his sock; it would be well-hidden unless you were looking for it. I gave him my Glock and additional magazines since his department prohibited him from carrying his duty gun at training.UWM carried Glocks, so it clicked into his holster with no difficulty. He tried to pull it fast, and it worked, so I returned to the plan of visiting the store. We then sat down and made a list of the stuff we would need. Food topped the list, and good backpacks for both Robert and Simone landed high up on the list as well. We finished the list, Simone put it in her pocket, and we made our way to the store.

As we arrived at the store, I said, “I would suspect that the proprietors are going to be looking for cash since the credit or debit cards are useless now, so bargain hard, and spend it all because cash is going to become worthless very quickly. Let them think they are taking you for a ride. Soon they will be wiping their asses with the cash.”

Simone nodded, “All right sounds like a plan, but lets not haggle much, I want to get out of there quickly.”

Robert nodded, “I agree, let’s get in quick, get our shit, and get in the wind!”

Simone still had her uniform on so we decided that she enter the store first and let the clerk know about us and what we were looking for so there would be no misunderstandings. Simone would make them understand that we were there to buy, not to rob. I volunteered to stay outside with our transportation. We rode up to the entrance of the store and parked our bikes on the side.  I took up an over watch position so we would not be surprised by anybody else arriving in the area.

Simone entered the store to find a middle-aged man sitting behind the counter reading and edition of The Onion. He looked over the edge of the paper, “Cash only officer; we don’t have any power.” He looked a bit closer at Simone, “You’re a bit out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you?”

“That’s right, I’m doing some training in Madison and I’m making my way back to my hotel with some friends. We’d like to pick up a few things if that’s ok with you sir?”

The man put down his paper and smiled, “Sure thing, are you looking for anything in particular, I got a bit of everything around here.” Simone produced the list and the man looked it over, “Well, I got all of that laying around here somewhere, let me help you find it all.” The man led Simone into the bowels of the store carrying on a conversation as he went.

Robert posted himself at the cash register and noticed the biggest German Shepherd he had ever seen laying next to the chair where the man was sitting, the shepherd looked at Robert as if to say, “Hey man, what’s up?” Robert stood his ground and put his hand out for the dog to sniff.  The dog rose from the floor to his full height of about 3 feet and gingerly sniffed his hand. Satisfied that the new person was not going to cause any trouble, and was a possible provider of treats, the dog sat down next to Robert.  The dog placed his head strategically under Robert’s hand so he could receive pets. Robert could do nothing but oblige, after all; he wanted to keep his hand attached to his arm.

In the store, the man led Simone around the shelves with a cart and picked the stuff off of the list with an expert hand. So far, they found a couple of old canvass backpacks, medical supplies and a poncho half for each of them so they could make a shelter. The storekeeper’s name was Mitch, and he explained the history of the building that was handed down from generation to generation in his family. He explained that initially it was an army surplus store after World War Two, eventually morphing into a convenience/variety store when he took over upon the death of his father. Mitch related that the business was good for the most part but in the winter it slowed down and willingly provided other mundane facts regarding his little corner of the retail world.

I took a position of partial concealment with the bikes, which gave me a clear view of the door and road going both ways. As I waited, I saw three figures walking up the road. They all appeared to be men, and by their walk and bearing, they all looked to be trouble.

I removed my compact monocular from my pack and glassed the three individuals.  One member of the group, a tall and skinny black man walked with what I referred to as the “pimp limp."He hitched his left leg as he walked like he sustained an injury that never properly healed. Most of the time it was a fashion statement because their favorite rap star did it, other times it was meant as a feint to lull an adversary into a false sense of security. As they approached, the black man I nicknamed Snoop was talking to the others about the store.

As they got closer I heard him say, “This old muthafucka is going to be easy, he won’t fight us ‘cause we got guns.  We can help ourselves to all his shit and then take care of him as we leave.”

His two friends, a big corn fed white kid I nicknamed Baby Huey, and a fat Hispanic kid I tagged as Senor Manteca both laughed evilly. I saw them pull out handguns from under their shirts and work the slides like in the rap videos they watched.

I called softly to Robert and let him know that company was coming, and took a position behind the engine block of the Buick I was using as cover. Robert faded into the shadows of the store and took up a position behind an ancient cooler to ambush them in case they got past me. Robert called to Simone and let her know what was happening. Mitch’s face and demeanor went from happy clerk helping out a customer, to a man of action.

Mitch said to Simone, “Come with me, I have a few surprises we can use on them.” She and Mitch dashed into the back room to prepare for the arrival of the would-be robbers.

As the trio of miscreants approached the store, I bellowed from concealment, “Police, don’t move!”.

The trio stopped and looked around, trying to determine where the voice came from.

Snoop looked towards the store,  “Hey, we don’t want any trouble,” but the look in his eyes said otherwise. He kept his hands behind his back where I knew he was concealing his handgun.

I yelled, “Drop your guns and put your hands on top of your heads!”

I took aim at Senor Manteca, because he looked ready to start shooting at the slightest provocation. 

Senor Manteca didn’t disappoint me. He drew first in my general direction, “Break yourself, bitch” and pointed his gun gangster style with it canted on its side.

I calmly drew a bead on him and squeezed the trigger like I had done thousands of time on the range and dropped him with a single round to the head. The SS109 with a steel penetrator found its mark and ended the foolish wannabe’s sorry existence.  His head exploded like a ripe melon and splattered blood, bone, and brain matter all over his two friends, causing them to freeze in their tracks.                I took Snoop with a double tap to the chest causing him to fall to the pavement in a heap in that nerveless way that said the person was dead.

Baby Huey, clued in to my position from the muzzle flashes, roared and ran towards me gun pointed at me gangster style, pulling the trigger as fast and as inaccurately as he could. I took cover behind the massive old Buick and waited for the fool to run out of ammunition. Before I heard the tell tale sound of a slide racking open, I was startled by two very large booms off to my right and a quick scream from Baby Huey as he went down. I looked up from my place of cover and saw Mitch with a 10 gage double barrel goose gun covering what remained of Baby Huey.

I walked over to where Mitch was standing while covering the bodies with my rifle and Robert went over to the corpses and checked for vital signs, the shake of his head indicated that both were stone dead.

Mitch approached what remained of the white kid and looked him over, “That’s Mark Radley’s boy, Cullen. He was always a no good son of a bitch, and he got even worse when he started shooting up heroin.”

Mitch sighed heavily, then turned and went back into the store. Simone and I took the bodies across the street and dumped them in a ditch, out of view.  I thought it was a fitting burial for those who would immediately victimize others when they sensed and advantage. We went back into the store and found Mitch sitting with his dog, Rommel behind the cash register where we first found him.

I asked, “Did you know those other two guys?”

“Well, I know Cullen, the white boy, and I have seen the other two in Cullen’s company, but we were never properly introduced.” Mitch let out a dry chuckle.

“Are you going to be ok? You look shaken up.” I noticed that his hand was trembling a bit.

“I was at Khe Sahn in ’68, I did a lot of killing, I just wished that I would never have to again. I’ll be ok Ben, I know that these guys wouldn’t have left me alive if I let them in so the way I see it, they had it coming.”

Mitch rose from his seat and shut and locked the front door with an authoritative snap, “it’s getting dark, so why don’t you all bed down here tonight and head out in the morning. I’ll supply you free of charge for services rendered.” He chuckled again and led is into his home that was in the back of the store for a meal.

We settled into Mitch’s kitchen, and he offered us some canned beef stew and homemade biscuits. Simone offered to make the biscuits and heat up the stew because she wanted to keep busy and take her mind off of what just happened. Mitch gave her the run of his extensive kitchen with top of the line appliances and an array of pots and pans that would make those cable television gourmets green with envy.

While she puttered away making the biscuits, Mitch, Robert and I sat at the table with a bottle of red wine between us.  I studied my surroundings, it appeared that Mitch was pretty well set up, he had a 60 inch flat screen in his sitting room, complete with leather furniture. A hallway led off to the bathroom and his bedroom.  Also, set of stairs leading downward into a partial basement and additional bedroom.

I said, “It looks like you got a pretty sweet bachelor pad going on here.”

Mitch smiled and poured himself another serving of wine, “I made some pretty shrewd investments in my early days…let’s say I got in on the ground floor of both Microsoft and Apple. A guy I know from my Marine days was a stockbroker and got me in before those guy’s IPO’s. Needless to say, I am sitting on a pile of cash, which is now worthless.  I decided to spruce the place up a bit without making it look like it was spruced up on the outside. After all, I don’t like attention and enjoy people thinking I am some crazy old coot that runs a little variety store outside of town.”

I nodded my head and took a sip of the excellent wine, “Mitch, what do you think happened to the power?”

He looked at me over the top of his wineglass and said “well Ben, I think that were the victim of Mother Nature, we got hit with a massive solar flare and, as a result, all of our precious technology is worth diddly squat! Either that or some rogue nation detonated a nuke over us.” He continued, “Either way, we just got knocked back to the 19th Century, and if you think that the Government is going to save us, brother, you got another thing coming!”

I nodded, “I think you hit it on the head, we’re pretty much screwed until people settle down and come up with a plan. I figure we got about 90 days of chaos ahead of us, and then, who knows. I am just trying to get home.”

After dinner and an extremely fine cognac, we talked about how the world would turn out in the near future. With winter coming, I didn’t hold out too much hope for the majority of urban dwellers and the unprepared. As I spoke, I thought that I had prepared pretty well for such an event over the past few years, but I was going to have to scramble in order to protect my precious supplies and my shelter for the coming winter. But I also realized that there were some pretty glaring gaps in my plans. While I was rich in food and a defendable shelter, I was poor in allies. I rarely associated with my work colleagues and my best friend was vacationing in New Mexico when this happened so that left precious few confederates. I did not relish holing up for the winter by myself, slowly going mad waiting for spring. I began to adjust my plans thanks to the changes that had developed over the past day.

The events of the day began to catch up to me, and I began to get tired. Mitch directed us to the living room where he had set up some cots for us to sleep on. He then bid us goodnight and retired to his bedroom. As I drifted off to sleep by Simone and Robert, I wondered what the next day would hold for us.

Chapter 5

As morning broke over the store, I was awakened by the pleasant smell of bacon frying, and a man humming tunelessly. I got out of my cot and saw Mitch in his kitchen preparing a very large breakfast for all of us; with Rommel lying on a foam bed close to Mitch dozing. I shuffled to the kitchen where Mitch was pouring a large mug of coffee for me. He slid it across the butcher-block work surface, “It looks like you need this brother.”

I took a long draught and sighed contentedly; this was an excellent cup of coffee, and I immediately looked forward to my next, and possibly last cup of this liquid gold. I looked out into the living room and found that Simone and Robert were nowhere to be found, so I asked Mitch where they went. Mitch told me that Simone was taking a shower, and Robert was burying the bodies we dumped rather unceremoniously in the ditch across the street.

“If you go over and help, breakfast will be ready just about time you two finish with your showers.”

I moved to open the front door and found a shovel leaning against the building. I found Robert about 50 yards west of the store digging a rather large hole. He was pretty far along; I only saw his shoulders and the shovel as it removed dirt from the hole and deposited it in a neat pile beside the deepening hole. 

I said with a wry edge, “Thanks for waking me up Robert.”

He looked up from his labors, “I figured since you saved my bacon yesterday, I could take care of this little chore by myself.”

“I didn’t save anything. You were in the fight just like me and without Mitch and his goose gun, we might have had a different result.” I offered my hand top him to help him out of the hole and together we heaved his solid bulk back on to firm ground.

Robert looked down at the ground, “I’ve never shot anybody in the line of duty, I’ve never even drawn my gun, but I watched you raise that rifle like it was a part of you and coolly take those people down like it was nothing. I mean; it was over in about two seconds” he snapped his fingers for emphasis.

I didn’t know where Robert was going with this, “Does it bother you that I took those guys down without a second thought?”

“No, they had it coming, but I have never seen somebody apply that kind of violence with such force and speed, I have to admit it was an unnerving thing to witness.” He then turned away and began to walk towards the bodies to place them in the hole.

We threw the corpses into the hole and began filling it without talking. While I was laboring away, I was turning Robert’s words over in my head….From his description of the skirmish, I appeared to be an iceman, killing without compunction or remorse. I frightened him despite his lukewarm claims to the contrary.  I decided to revisit this at a later time when I could approach the issue from a different direction. After filling the hole in, we turned back towards the store. We stored the shovels where Robert found them, and entered the rear of the shop where hot showers were waiting for us.

After the showers, breakfast was waiting for us.  Simone joined us from the extra room Mitch provided for her. She was drying her short hair with a thick towel, and she had changed from her uniform to a pair of tan cargo shorts and sky blue top. She was wearing her cycling socks and carried her cycling shoes in her left hand as she made her way to the breakfast table. She took a seat, and Mitch served us all a generous breakfast of eggs, hash browns, and toast. A large bowl of mixed berries sat in the center of the table along with smaller bowls for individual servings. We all ate heartily, knowing that we needed as much energy as we could store up for the trip ahead. As we ate, I noticed Mitch becoming more subdued, and he appeared to be a little sad that we were going. When the meal ended, Mitch gathered the plates from each of us and made his way to the sink to wash and stack the dishes.

I grabbed a dish towel, “Let me give you a hand there Mitch." He grunted, and I took my place beside him to dry the plates as he washed.

“Mitch, what’s wrong, you seem a little down.”

“Well, I don’t know you guys at all, but Rommel and I will be very sorry to see you go. I think it is going to get quite lonely around these parts as well as dangerous.”

I looked at him, and he appeared every bit of a lonely old man. A plan started to form in my head, but I had to discuss it with Simone and Robert. I continued to dry the dishes in silence while I mentally worked out the details.

Once we finished the task, I went back to my bike and began preparing it for the trip into Whitewater. We had about 60 miles to go, and the route I planned took us away from most population centers and through hilly farm country. As many times as I’d done this ride for charity, the stretch from Whitewater to Madison was the toughest….hill after hill after hill. I was usually at the end of my rope when we rolled into Madison to the finish line and the party that awaited us. I knew it would be even harder on a fully loaded mountain bike as opposed to the carbon fiber dream machine I rode during those charity rides. I finished up securing the remainder of my stuff, and re-entered the house to find everybody gone. I listened closely and heard muffled voices, and made my way over to the stairway I spotted last night. I saw the lower part of Simone’s legs and heard her talking to Mitch in excited and happy tones. I went down the stairs to the rest of the group and was surprised beyond words by what I saw.

At the base of the stairs, there was a large heavily fortified door that led into a larger chamber. Inside the chamber was what appeared to be at least ten years of supplies for more than one person.  There was food, medicine, clothing and shoes, and even a massive supply of toilet paper.  Mitch had an old style safe bolted to the floor, and after working the combination he opened the door and it was overflowing with gold and silver coins. Mitch suddenly looked like an old pirate opening his personal treasure chest,  “the gold ones are krueggerands and the silver stuff is all per-1964 American change. At least we’ll have something to trade with while we are on the road. Against the other wall, I saw an arsenal that rivaled most major metropolitan police departments and small military units. Carefully stacked crates of ammunition lined one wall separated by caliber, and carefully concealed at the end of the 25-foot row were seven wooden ammunition crates about four feet long with Cyrillic writing on them.

All I could say was, “By the power of Grayskull.” to crib a line from one of my favorite buddy cop movies. I motioned to the long crates, “Are these filled with AK-47’s or RPG’s?”

“RPG’s my curious friend…guaranteed to get you out of a jam, big or small! I Have four launchers and 29 spare rockets.”

“How on earth did you get them?”

“Well, let’s just say that I did a couple of favors for an Eastern Bloc Business partner. He showed his appreciation by giving me these rockets. It’s amazing what you could get out of the Port of Milwaukee in the 1980’s” He snickered at his own inside joke.

“I got the gold coins from another shady deal I made in South Africa during the Apartheid years. I guess you could say I did business where I was going to be paid. At least I wasn’t one of those junk bond assholes that nearly crashed the economy in ’87.”

I openly marveled at the array of other weaponry that made my AR-15 look like an insignificant toy. Mitch had rifles, pistols and several other tools of death including .50 caliber bolt-action rifle.

Mitch gave me a semi-serious look, “You going to arrest me Officer?”

I smiled and said in a mock serious tone, “I think I’ll let it slide thanks to your generous hospitality, but don’t push it.”

He laughed, “If you like that, then you are going to like this.” He produced a key and led us upstairs to an apparently disused outbuilding and popped open a padlock securing the two doors. Inside the darkness of the shed, I made out the shape of a couple of cars made useless by Mother Nature’s trick. Mitch pulled a chain, and the shades on two massive skylights pulled out of the way, flooding the room with light. Once again, I was surprised to see two vintage Volkswagen Things from the early 1970’s. The Thing had a brief run in America and was pretty ugly, but for me, they were the ultimate must have car when I was a child. I loved the boxy, militaristic style with the stamped sides and wild colors. I remember they came in vibrant yellow, orange and basic white. I always coveted them and wanted to restore one if I had the chance. Mitch’s Things sported the red, green, gray and black paint scheme known as  alpenflage. Mitch went over to a large metal cabinet and removed a car battery from one of the shelves. He opened the rear compartment of the car and placed the battery in the cradle, hooked up the wires, and walked to the front of the car and opened the driver’s side door. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he cranked the engine, and that familiar rattle of a VW’s engine filled the barn.

My eyes widened, “Why is the car running Mitch, this shouldn’t happen.”

Mitch replied, “Well this has no electronic controls, just a distributor, plugs, and points, so it’s impervious to an EMP.”

I remembered reading something about that in my studies, and Mitch’s purring Thing proved that some machines can still run after an EMP if they are not dependent on electronic ignition controls. Unfortunately, most modern machines from the simple generator to the modern car have some electronic component to them rendering them useless in this new world. Mitch killed the engine as the blue smoke from the tailpipe began to get a bit thick in the garage, and motioned us out into the fresh air.

Once outside Mitch stroked his beard and faced me, “I would like to come with you if that’s ok, Rommel and I will never make it here alone.”

I was both happy that Mitch wanted to come but also a bit apprehensive, with the cars we will make excellent time to Whitewater and be able to carry a ton of gear, which could be used for barter or to secure a place in a strong group. But I wondered if we would get attacked if a rival group saw us riding in cars. We have already experienced how quick people became predators after a few hours without power, it has now been a full day, and I was concerned that people were now in full panic, and panicked people do very stupid things.

I nodded, “Ok, but how are you going to secure your stuff? You have a ton of useful things, and we certainly can’t move them all even with the two cars.”

Mitch said, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve young lad, come with me.” Mitch motioned me to follow him, and we went back into the house. Upon arriving in the living area, he went over to the staircase. He then removed two pins that held the railing in place and pulled it out of the floor. He then pulled on a hole in the joist and pulled and a small hatch slid out from the floorboards and locked into place over the hole leading to the basement. From the corner of the bookshelf, he removed a rolled up oriental style rug and rolled it over the trapdoor.

With a flourish of his hands he intoned, “Abracadabra, the basement disappears!”

I was impressed by how he made the stairwell vanish. To emphasize his point he stood on the carpet and jumped up and down, he did not fall in, and the floor made no strange sounds to betray the fact that there was a void under the floor.

Mitch re-opened the trapdoor, ”Let’s move as much stuff down there as we can, I can come back for it later when I can move it.” I brought Robert and Simone back into the room and laid out a plan for the remainder of the day. We were all concerned that with this course of action, we would lose another day, and Society would become a bit more savage, but the huge amount of supplies we would be able to transport outweighed our concerns. While Simone, Robert and I worked on moving the supplies to the secret room, Mitch worked on selecting the gear we would take and pack the cars and the trailer. Rommel played his part too; he acted as Mitch’s alarm and security force.

We spent the rest of the afternoon and the next day moving supplies and anything else that we considered to be valuable into the basement, virtually filling the room to the rafters. Mitch loaded a small trailer full of additional ammunition, food, some gold and silver, a few guns and an RPG into the cars, whichhe affectionately named Thing One and Thing Two.Robert drove Thing Two with me riding shotgun. Simone was going to ride with Mitch and Rommel in Thing One as security so we could respond to any threat we encountered.

We also removed the majority of the stuff we could from the store and gave it a looted appearance. Our thinking was that if roving bands of zombie bikers or other miscreants came across the store and found it looted they would move on without doing damage to the structure or conducting a search for abandoned supplies. We bid the store farewell  on the 4th day from the event for the time being and headed east toward Whitewater and Robert’s home base.

Chapter 5

The first 15 miles passed without too much trouble. We stuck to the back roads, re-tracing the route I had ridden in the past with the MS charity ride. The back roads took us through farm country between fields with not much in the way of structures to block our immediate view. I drove the Thing with a mixture of care and delight. I couldn’t believe that I was finally behind the wheel of one of my dream cars, but I knew a breakdown would cause lots of trouble for our little band. I kept it under 50 as we whizzed down the poorly maintained roads of Dane and Dodge County.

We had seen no one, apart from an errant group of cows and their keepers in the distance. We never came within 300 yards of any living person. I assumed that people are in either full panic or shutdown mode and taking steps to either hide or fortify their locations. I knew that in the cities the large majority of miscreants were more than likely looting and taking the biggest TV’s they could find. Smarter predators were going after the gold, guns and food. The rest of the population were more than likely in a desperate scramble for the last remaining supplies.

I felt bad for my friends in the city. If they had any brains they already split to protect their families, but I knew that there would be a few that would hold out to the bitter end due to misguided loyalty or simply no other place to go. I only hoped that they had the forethought to strip the district of weapons and other useful equipment and damage the cells so they couldn’t close. The last thing we needed was some asshole declaring himself king or warlord and co-opted the station for his own purposes.

As we exited Dane County for Dodge County, I spotted a squad car blocking the road, and several men posted around it. I saw one man in uniform and the rest of the crew milling about each end of the car. When they saw us, they formed up into a skirmish line in front of the vehicle and went to port arms, not pointing their weapons at us, but not pointing them away either. I stopped my car about 100 yards from the makeshift roadblock. I walked back to Thing 2 and said to Simone, “Why don’t you come with me, maybe you know some of these guys.”

I told Robert to take over the driver’s seat in case they had to make a quick getaway, and Simone and I walked to the roadblock. We proceeded towards the men with our hands away from our bodies, giving them no reason to assume that we were hostile. Once we got to within 25 feet, the uniformed officer shouted, “That’s far enough, state your business!”

I waved my identification above my head,  “I’m a Milwaukee Police Officer, and she’s a Waukesha County Deputy Sheriff, we’re just trying to get home!” 

The Officer looked at us dubiously, “Throw your identification down in front of you." Simone and I removed our badge holders from our pockets and threw them to the ground. A couple of the men from the roadblock scurried forward and retrieved the wallets and brought them back to the man in charge. The officer took his time examining them, removing the badges from their cases and turning them over in his hands. He then nodded to himself and said, “Come on forward, and call your vehicles up as well.”

I was reluctant to call the cars forward because we were easily outnumbered and outgunned, and we could be stripped of all of our supplies in an instant. I decided to roll the dice and see how this played out. I raised my hand in a pre-determined signal, and Robert and Mitch slowly drove up to the roadblock. Mitch exited the vehicle with Rommel so he could stretch his legs and sniff, and Robert exited his vehicle and joined us as we met the local cops.

The officer was pure corn-fed farm stock. He was about six feet of solid muscle with catcher’s mitts for hands. He offered one of those mitts to me, “I’m Officer Grinker,  Cambridge Police, but you can call me Grink.” His hand enveloped mine, and he applied enough pressure to imply he could crush my hand to powder if he so chose.

“Hi, I’m Ben." I motioned back towards my compatriots, “And this is Simone, Mitch and Robert."

He raised his free hand, “Howdy folks.” Then turned his attention to me once again. He released my hand, “What brings you out here to the Styx? Are you trying to avoid the highways?”

“That’s about the size of it Grink, we’re headed to Whitewater to drop Robert off, and then headed to Waukesha for Simone, and then I’m continuing to Milwaukee.”  I stood back on my heel and continued, “All we want is to pass through your roadblock and continue on, we aren’t looking for trouble.  Could you let us by?”

Grink looked me up and down, assessing whether he wanted to trust me or not. “I got no beef with you Ben, you can continue when you’re ready to go.”

I was intensely relieved, with a wave of his hand he could have taken us to town and robbed us of all of our stuff, but he was a decent sort, and decided to remain true to his Law Enforcement ethos and leave us be.

I shook his hand once again and moved into personal distance and said in a low voice, “Do we have anything you need Grink, we can spare some food and ammo if you’re low.”

Grink stayed in close and said in a quiet voice, ”I need some 5.56, we only keep 50 rounds in the car, and I got the feeling I am going to need much more before this is over.”

“Let me see what I can shake loose.” I walked back to Thing 1 and told the others what we should do. They agreed, and we waved Grink to the rear of the trailer.

Grink ordered his men to remain at their posts, and we gave Grink a bag containing six 50-round boxes of 5.56 for his weapon. I was surprised when he choked up, “Thanks brother, I don’t know what to say, I think you may have saved my life.” With ammo in hand, he walked back to the roadblock and ordered the men to push the car aside so we could pass. As we drove past Grink and his men, they all waved and wished us luck on our journey. As we prepared to leave, Grink took me aside, “You might want to stop at the police station in Cambridge and see the Chief, maybe there will be some news there.” Grink provided us with a note stating who we were and to give us safe passage through town.

The trip so far had gone pretty good, and we were about 20 miles as the crow flew from the store, but the roads were now taking us into the first population center  since the beginning of our journey, the town of Cambridge. I was looking forward to seeing how small town America was faring two days into the new world….and I hoped it was for the better.

Chapter 6

As we rolled into Cambridge, it looked like things were pretty normal. People were walking the streets; a few were riding horses through town and despite the absence of any moving cars on the road, the town gave off the vibes of a place that was secure, content, and trouble-free.  We got some curious looks as we passed by in our vehicles, but nothing that registered alarm bells in me or the rest of the group. I saw the police station and waved our little convoy to stop; I wanted to see if there was any way I could get a message to Milwaukee and ascertain the condition of the city at that particular moment. Robert, Simone and Mitch stayed with the cars armed with the note provided by Grink, and I proceeded up the stairs to what appeared to be some WPA building that is common to central Wisconsin that often passed for a small town police station. There was an armed officer at the door, and he greeted me pleasantly while trying not to look over my shoulder at the only running cars he has seen in the last few days.

“What can I do for you sir," while stepping in front of the doors.

I stopped abruptly and smiled, “I was wondering if I could have a word with the person in charge, I’m a police Sergeant from Milwaukee trying to get home, and I’m looking for some news if you heard anything.”

The officer, whose nametag said “Clanton,” said “I’ll see if the boss has a moment, wait here.” He retreated into the building. A few moments later he re-emerged and waved me inside, giving me directions to the Chief’s office.  To say that this was the cleanest police station I have ever seen was an understatement. The floors gleamed the walls appeared to be grime free and the countertops, made of brass sheet metal shone brightly as if rubbed down with new-r-dull on a daily basis. I walked to the closed door that had “CHIEF” painted on the stippled glass and knocked. I heard a feminine voice call out, “Come in." I entered and made my way to the desk, where the owner of the voice  sat in a chair facing away from me.

“Ma’am, I’m Ben Clark and I’m a Sergeant from Milwaukee. I got stranded in Madison during this whole thing. I’m making my way home along with a couple other cops and was wondering if you have heard anything from there.

The chair swung around and revealed a handsome woman in her early 40’s, with salt and pepper hair styled in an angular bob that framed her heart-shaped face perfectly.  She gazed at me with wide brown eyes and looked me up and down, missing nothing.  She rose from her perch and stuck out a well manicured hand sporting blood red polish, “I’m Chief Elaine Krusk, pleased to meet you.

I took her hand and was surprised at her grip strength; it was not a crushing grip, but the grip implied strength that belied her form. “Coffee?”

“Sure, I would love a cup.”

She walked from behind her desk and moved to an old style percolator and poured a cup of coffee. She wore a black uniform skirt that ended just above the knee with gold stripes down both sides and black hose on her legs ending in 2 inch wedge heel pumps. The Sam Browne belt that encircled her tight waist completed he outfit. I have never seen a female police officer wear a skirt before except during my time in England with the Air Force. I could see that this was a woman who took meticulous care of herself. As I looked her over while her back was turned to me, I thought that she was rather attractive.  She offered me some coffee, which I accepted and then carried herself back to her chair, heels making hollow sounds on the ancient, but well maintained hardwood floor.

She looked me over once again, “I have a question for you Ben. How did you make your way from Madison to this lovely little burg?”

“Well, we started off on our bicycles, my colleagues were doing some bicycle training in Madison. Then we met up with our new friend Mitch, and he drove us here in his Volkswagen Things.”

“You have a couple of cars that work?” Elaine appeared incredulous.

“Yes we do. Apparently since these cars rely on no electronic controls, they were unaffected by the EMP.”

“Hmm.” She perched herself on the corner of her desk facing me, crossed her ankles and said, “Now, to answer your question; we’ve heard nothing about what’s happening. I started to get complaints of vandalism from various residents about their cars not starting a few days ago, along with the lights not working and whatnot. When we realized whatever happened was bigger than the town, my concerns turned to worry. We’re a very small Department. I only have eight full time officers, and we don’t have a lot of weapons. If the crisis continues and people start to get desperate, I’m not sure if we can maintain order.”

She continued, “One of my more anti-government residents says it was some EMP attack, and the President was going to use it to take away all of our guns and send us to FEMA camps.” She made the crazy gesture with her free hand. She snorted, “Since I haven’t seen anything flying for the past couple of days, including black helicopters, I’m not inclined to lend any credence to that particular theory.”

I leaned back in my chair, “Ma’am I think your anti-government type got one thing right; it was a solar flare which caused an EMP, rendering all electronics useless. I suspect that the Federal Government is no longer functioning, so I wouldn’t expect the DHS or any other government agency to show up with help in the near future.”

“Please, call me Elaine, after all, we are colleagues.” She smiled at me and gave me a long look before coming off of the desk and making her way to her chair.

As she was taking her seat, the officer guarding the front door burst in, “Ma’am, Grinker is under attack at roadblock one by a substantial force and requests assistance.” If you listened hard enough, you could hear distant pops of gunfire from the direction of the roadblock.

Chief Krusk frowned, “Shit!” She looked at me and asked, “Could you help us out by taking me and some reinforcing officers there in your car?” The pleading look on her face was all that I needed, “You got it Elaine, let’s go!” She opened the small closet and grabbed AR-15 and assault vest containing extra magazines  that were on a hanger, and we made our way outside with her barking orders as we left the building. I passed Robert, Mitch and Simone and yelled, “Mitch, I’m taking thing 1 to the roadblock there’s trouble! You guys hold the fort!” I started the car and whizzed out of town towards what sounded like a pitched battle.

Once we arrived we saw the pitched battle I expected in progress between the defenders and what appeared to be about 30 people on horseback, foot, and bicycles. The defenders, all local farmers, and a few reserve police officers were calmly lining up their hunting rifles and AR-15’s and squeezing off shots from cover with devastating effect.  Attackers fell where they stood, struck with well-aimed shots. From my observations, it was obvious that these raiders had no training in the concepts of cover and concealment. Chief Krusk was also doing her part, she bailed out of the car, dropped to a knee behind one of the barricades and began firing her rifle at the attackers. I watched her score hits with every pull of the trigger. When she ran dry, she reloaded smoothly and concentrated her fire on the men and women on horseback. The raiders fell from their horses to the ground with no equine casualties under Elaine’s accurate fire. It appeared that the attackers had no real discernible plan and were hoping on overwhelming the roadblock by sheer numbers.  Despite the din of battle, I heard the sound of what I thought was a diesel truck over the screams of pain and the popping of rounds. A Dane County snowplow was grinding down the roadway towards our roadblock; V-SHAPED shaped blade balanced just above the ground. Several attackers took up positions in the dump truck portion waving their guns and screaming. The truck belched black smoke from its twin exhausts and lined up on the roadblock to crash through it.

Knowing that this truck would make short work of the barricade and give the attackers the advantage, I decided it was time to deploy one of Mitch’s toys to level out the playing field.  I went to the rear of Thing 1 and removed the RPG I had stored there. I dropped a rocket into the launching unit and locked it in place like Mitch showed me how to do. Bracing myself on the hood of Thing 1 and lined up the sights on the front end of the truck. I yelled, “Backblast area clear!” and pulled the trigger of the RPG. The rocket made a whooshing sound and left the tube, streaking towards the improvised tank. It struck the blade and exploded. The shaped charge of the rocket penetrated the blade with a loud explosion sending a molten jet of copper through the blade, the engine and into the cab of the truck, setting everything on fire. There was a large WHUMP as the fuel ignited and the truck exploded, sending debris and bodies flying out of the bed and into the air. A small group of raiders were seen trying to flee the area but were cut down by the defenders before they got away.  A stillness came over the field as the last of the attackers were dealt with by the people at the roadblock.

Chief Krusk yelled, “Cease fire!”

I went over to her still carrying the RPG launcher, “Are you ok?”

“Yes. Where did you get that contraption Ben?”

“My friend Mitch has lots of tricks up his sleeve Elaine looks like this saved our collective bacon.”

“I think you’re right Ben.” She called out, “Anybody hurt?”

A chorus of “No were Ok, and other declarations to the negative came from the troops at the roadblock.

Officer Grinker revealed himself from his position of cover beside his vehicle and walked over to the Chief and Me.

He saluted smartly, “Ma’am it looks like we won this one; I would like permission to take Ben here and look for survivors.”

“Permission granted Grinker.” She looked at me, “That ok by you?”

I nodded, and we made our way out into the battlefield in the search for survivors under the cover of the Farmer’s guns. It didn’t take long to find a severely wounded enemy. His attire of loose pants belted at mid buttocks and flannel shirt with a bandana wrapped around his head identified him as an urban gang member. Unfortunately for him, his left arm was missing above the elbow, and he was rapidly bleeding out. I applied a length of paracord to his arm and stanched the bleeding for the moment. Grinker sat him up and slapped him in the face. The dying man’s eyes sprung open, “You muthafuckas killed me.”

“You’ll live if you give us some information, you have my word. Now, why did you attack us?”

The thug swallowed hard, “The city was going to shit man, and my crew followed a guy named Delquan out.  We knew it was important to get as much shit as we could so we left Madison to take on small towns like yours….you was supposed to be easy pickings.” He coughed and a massive gout of pink foam shot out of his mouth. I looked at Grinker and he nodded, this guy was a goner, so we needed to press him for more info before he croaked.

Grinker grabbed him by the shirt and slapped him, “How many more of you are there?”

The kid smiled and began to chuckle, “Man, when Delquan finds out what you did to his truck…..he’ll come for you and burn you and your shitty town down!” In mid-laugh, the kid’s eyes went glassy and vacant, and he slumped against Grinker never to rise again. A quick search of the battlefield revealed that the Farmer’s were a bit too good at their jobs, and all we found were lots of bodies with single chest and head shots.

We returned to the roadblock, and collected a group to help clean up. Salvageable weapons from the battlefield and bodies were stacked in a nearby field for cremation. The burning hulk of the snowplow was left to burn out. Several farmers regained control of the frightened horses and gathered them in a group. In an hour, we had the road cleaned up like nothing had happened. Fresh guards arrived from town, so we returned to Cambridge to hold a meeting…. We needed to know who this Delquan character was, and what he was up tofast or we might not be so lucky the next time we ran into some of his people.

Chapter 7

Cleotha Jones was not stupid. When he was sent with the raiding party to attack the roadblock and take the town on the orders of Delquan, he stayed in the rear. He knew all those white farmers were experts with rifles from his time on the honor farm in Dane County as a delinquent youth, so he made himself a small a target as he could be as the failed attack progressed. Sure enough, his stoned and drunk compatriots fucked the attack up, and were subsequently shot to pieces by old men with hunting rifles. When he saw the truck they were able to start explode into a million pieces, he decided to hit the road and head back to camp. He justified his cowardice by saying to himself, “Better to be a live dog than a dead lion” and steeled himself for the trouble he knew coming when he delivered the news to Delquan.

Cleotha staggered back to camp and came across two sentries that had been placed away from the camp earlier that day.

He approached the sentries, “Man, I got to see Delquan right now…..the attack failed!”

One sentry led him to the McDonnel’s farmhouse where Delquans band had set up camp after disposing of the McDonnel’s in a rather brutish fashion. Cleotha shuddered to himself as he relived the tragic end of the entire McDonnel family at his and Delquan’s hands.

Delquan sent Aquanetta to the door of the home to pose as a distraction.  After knocking, she took a step back to allow Delquan and Cleotha to attack from both sides of the door.

An eye peeked out from the lace curtains, and the door opened, “What can I do for you Miss?” Mr. McDonnel stood in the doorway.

“My car broke down right outside your farm. Do you have a phone I could use?”

“I hate to admit it, but the phone doesn’t work for some reason. Why don’t you come in and rest yourself, we can work something out I’m sure."

Mr. McDonnel moved aside, and Aquanetta entered the cool house. As Mr. McDonnel fell in behind her, Delquan struck. He grabbed Mr. McDonnel from behind and pulled him out of the house. Aquanetta pulled the pistol she had concealed in her purse and surprised Mrs. McDonnel and her daughter, June, who were canning pickles in the kitchen.

Aquanetta stepped through the doorway, her pistol out in front of her, “Awright bitches, hands up!”

The McDonnel women complied and were led out of the kitchen by Aquanetta to the front of the house where Mr. McDonnel knelt with a pistol to his head.

Mr. McDonnell pleaded with his captors, “Just don’t hurt my family, and you can have everything you want mister, we don’t want this kind of trouble!”

Delquan struck Mr. McDonnel on the side of the head with his pistol, “Shut up you old muthafucka!”

The McDonnell women joined their patriarch kneeling on the driveway in front of the house, covered by Aquanetta and Cleotha.

Delquan waved his pistol at the McDonnel’s, “I think I like your place, it’s mine now…Got it!”

  Unbeknownst to Delquan and his crew, Eight year old Jason McDonnel saw the commotion occurring in his driveway. He also knew in his heart that these bastards were going to kill them all no matter what his dad said or did. He decided to fight; that’s what his dad would have done if given the chance. He braced the small barrel of his .22 rifle on the window sill and took aim at the silent giant standing behind the group. He assumed it was the leader because the clown threatening his father did not appear to be a leadership type. He squeezed the trigger on his trusty Chipmunk which gave him a little kick in the shoulder and a loud CRACK as the rifle fired. The bullet struck Delquan’s lieutenant, a smooth looking character named Mustafa Jenkins in the left eye, destroying it. The bullet continued at a slightly downward angle and popped out just under his left earlobe, missing the brain and carotid artery. Jenkins fell to the ground screaming in pain and covering his ruined eye with his hand. Delquan’s group quickly identified where the shot came from and shredded poor Jason with a hail of bullets from their pistols

Delquan pointed his pistol at Mr. McDonnel, “You treacherous fuck! How dare you harm one of my men!

Mr. McDonnell looked up at him and smiled, “Thought you could fuck with farm folk huh? Rest assured you heartless pimp, you are most certainly going to get yours!” To emphasize his point, Mr. McDonnell spat directly in Delquan’s eye.

The gob of Red Man laden spittle burned as it landed in Delquans eye, and he howled in pain, furiously pawing at it. Aquanetta took the initiative and shot Mr. McDonnel in the forehead, dropping him to the pavement as the women screamed in terror.

“Well done Aquanetta. Now give the women to our soldiers….I’m sure that they will entertain them.”  The women were dragged away to the soldier’s bivouac screaming and fighting for all they were worth.

An EMT who had joined the group as they left Madison tended to Mustafa and Delquan took Aquanetta’s hand and led her into their new home. Over the next two days, they set up their base and successfully raided a couple of nearby farms and stripped them of supplies to feed and equip Delquan’s army. Once they discovered Cambridge, the plan switched to taking the town over and staying there for the winter. One of the sentries jabbed Cleotha in the back with his rifle, Jarring him back to the present. This setback would not be well received, and the deliverer of the message might have a bad day, Cleotha thought ruefully.

As Cleotha approached the house, his fear increased. He knew that Delquan would not take this news well, and likely punish the person who brought it. Being tortured on the orders of Delquan in the barn was not a thought Cleotha relished. His boss had a stable of big sadistic men that he collected over the years as one of Madison’s biggest heroin dealers to do that for him. He stopped outside of Delquan’s bedroom and knocked, he heard a voice call, “Enter” and he opened the door and entered the room.

Delquan sat behind a large desk with his female companion, Aquanetta, lying on the bed in the corner of the room. Mustafa glared at him from another corner of the room, his white bandaged eye with angry red stain looking vivid against his obsidian skin. Delquan looked up, beckoned Cleotha like a dog and said, “Sit” directing him to a chair directly in front of the desk. Cleotha sat, took a deep breath and started to deliver his report to his leader.

“Sir, it was a slaughter, those white farmers have been shooting things since they could crawl. They were picking us off like flies. I saw four of our men get shredded by that big cop with the AR….it was like poppoppoppop, and that’s all she wrote!”

“Then there was this other white boy with a rocket launcher…one shot and that truck we got running just blew up……BLAM!” He made a sweeping gesture with his arms to indicate a large explosion.

“Boss, those bastards didn’t even let us run away…..they shot our people in the back as they fled, those fuckers! I don’t think we can afford any more small attacks…it’ll bleed us dry. We have to attack the town right away will all we got before they can come up with a plan to defend themselves.”

As Cleotha related the one-sided battle, Delquan listened with his hands steepled in front of him, occasionally peppering him with specific questions. When Cleotha finished his report, Delquan rose from his chair and approached Cleotha with an evil look in his eye. Cleotha braced himself, he knew that he was a dead man for delivering the bad news. Instead of a death blow, Delquan placed his hand on Cleotha’s shoulder in a conciliatory move, “It must have been terrible to have been surprised like that, after all, we have been very successful up to now.”

“Sir, this town might be a bit too much for us. I think we should just spend the winter here and keep to raiding farms for supplies. We can always attack the town as they weaken.” He immediately recoiled within himself realizing that it was never advisable to question the plans of Delquan, especially in front of his inner circle.

Delquan appeared to consider that idea he placed his fingers under his chin in contemplation. He lowered his hand and moved back to his chair and sat down. He snapped his fingers and two guards entered the room, flanking Cleotha.

“Cleotha, you know the penalty for failure in this organization, but because I am merciful, and you have brought me valuable intelligence, I will spare your life. Guards, place him in the barn at half rations for a week. A bit of hard labor might bring a sense of clarity regarding our mission to the young brother.” Cleotha was dragged out of the room and taken to the barn to serve out his sentence.

Mustafa moved from his place in the corner and approached the desk. He sat down at the chair and touched the side of his face where young Jason almost blew his brains out and grunted in discomfort. The hydrocodone they found in the medicine cabinet of the farm helped dull the pain, but it was nowhere near the dose he needed to completely obliterate his pain. Mustafa collected his thoughts, “Sir, we have to take that town, it’s got to be full of resources we can use to survive the winter.”

Delquan rubbed his head, he knew what Mustafa said was true, but the addition of combat trained people with heavy ordinance to the already difficult equation made his efforts all the more challenging. From Cleotha’s description of the weapon, it had to be an RPG, a weapon he had some experience with during his time in first Gulf War. A weapon such as that could make his army invincible against a lightly armed populace.

He considered a softer approach; he would send a spy into town and see what they could find out. Any intelligence they could gather on the population and the supplies that they had stored would be valuable indeed.  Most importantly, he needed to know where the weapons were so he could capture them for his own use. He broke concentration for a moment and looked at his lieutenant  Mustafa, “My friend, find me a white girl, she is going to be our Jane Bond!”

An hour later, Mustafa brought Mary Smith-Baker of Eau Clare, Wisconsin before his leader. Mary had the distinction of being one of Mustafa’s most loyal white women, taking care of his every need ever since they met on the UW campus a couple of years ago. Mary was brought up in a sheltered, liberal household and was “allowed” to develop virtually on her own because her parents did not believe in shaping their child according to the dictates of mainstream society.  In other words, they just took care of her basic needs and gave her no moral framework to guide her development. Without a framework delineating right and wrong created a creature with a totally relative outlook and complete naiveté about how to get along in the real world.  Her parents, not trusting the vile corporate indoctrination that most schools offered, home schooled her. Her parents,  well off civil rights attorneys, convinced her that America was most oppressive place in the world where corporations and money ruled everything, and the little man was born to suffer, fighting for scraps. They taught her that the only way to create a truly equal society, where everybody was your brother and sister, was to tear the old world down completely and rebuild it in their pot hazed and naive image. Upon meeting Mustafa at UWMadison, Mary was quickly seduced by him and his narrative on how America oppressed his black brothers and sisters, and with her help, they could break the chains of this oppression and usher in the new world….blah, blah blah. Mary became one of his most dedicated followers, doing his homework for him, servicing him when he felt the need, and offering her organizational skills to his illegal enterprises. Despite her skills, she was never let into the inner circle because of her color, but she didn’t mind. Mustafa was her man, and Delquan was her President, the man who was going to change the world with his speeches and actions.

Mary entered Delquan’s chambers and stood obediently in front of his desk, basking in the glow of her leader.

“You sent for me Delquan?”

“Yes my dear.” He motioned her to a waiting chair. “You see, I have need of your unique talents and skills at blending in.”

Mary smiled at being chosen for a special assignment and felt her heart flutter, “Whatever I can do to help the cause sir.”

“Excellent, but I must warn you, I am going to send you to the town to act as a spy, it is vitally important that we find out a great deal of information in a short amount of time so you must be quick.”

“Whatever the group requires sir, I’ll do it.”

“Mary, I need you to find out how many people are in the town and especially where they stockpile their supplies, our survival over the coming winter depends on it!” Delquan looked at her with burning eyes to emphasize how important her assignment was. 

Mary melted under her man’s stare. “Is there anything else in particular I should be looking for sir?”

Delquan raised an eyebrow “Why yes there is, I need you to identify the important people in town, it is imperative that we cripple their leadership so the rest of the town will fall into line quickly.”

Delquan rose from his chair and rounded his desk and stood before Mary, taking her face in his hands “Mary; you also have to be prepared to use any force necessary in order to escape and report back to me.” Use force as a last resort, be stealthy if at all possible, but if you have to, you must be prepared to kill.”

“For you, Delquan, anything.” She beamed at her leader with adoration.

“You are so special Mary. If you do this successfully, you will find yourself in the inner circle. That’s a promise!”

He then led Mary to the edge of the farm and sent her on her assignment. Mary walked away with the purposeful steps of a warrior, her head held high and her shoulders back as she receded from sight.

Both Mustafa and Delquan were betting that she would be welcomed with open arms, especially after she fed them her cover story of an escapee from the camp of raiders that were planning on attacking the town. She was to feed whoever would listen a load of misinformation regarding the strength and number of her compatriots, giving the enemy the impression that Delquan’s group is disorganized, weak, and close to collapse. Hopefully, the load of crap she fed them would either cause them to let down their guard, or come looking for them to finish them off. Either way, they would be un-prepared for a full on attack from Delquan’s forces. Delquan rubbed his hands together in anticipation of taking the town, clapped his compatriot Mustafa on the shoulder and walked back to the farm.

Chapter 8

Delquan Fleetwood Jones was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin in the early 1970’s at the intersection of North 35th  Street and West Garfield Avenue. His mother, a hopeless alcoholic and drug user, gave birth to him right at the bus stop as she tried to make her way to Aurora Sinai Hospital at the edge of downtown to have her baby. The story made the papers, and his mother Keisha became quite a local celebrity for a moment.  Social service groups rallied to her side due to her compelling and tragic story and made sure that little Delquan received piles of clothing, diapers, formula and money. Keisha promptly hocked all the stuff she got to support her habits.  While she was out on a scoring run three weeks after she gave birth, she ran across the dope man she owed money to and was subsequently beaten to death with a tire iron. Delquan ended up at the mercy of local social service agencies.  In other words, Delquan never had a chance.

He was bounced from foster home to foster home all over Metro Milwaukee full of kids like him;whose “parents” were only in it for a check.  None of these so-called parents ever noticed that Delquan, despite his tragic backstory, was neither stupid nor was he an easy victim. He had a mind that was always turning over and calculating the angles. He always had a plan on how best to survive in the circumstances he found himself in and seemed to rise to the top of the pecking order very quickly. As he grew, he became even better at calculating the angles and thrived despite being forced to live in the brutal conditions the average foster home.

When he was 12, one of the various boyfriends his current “mother” Tylee was dating attempted to rape him. Darius Wexman was a child molester, drug addict, a drunk and a pimp. His MO was to find a vulnerable woman with kids, ingratiate himself with the family, whore the woman out, take all her money,  and then molest the kids he determined weak. Even if the kids or the woman accused him, he usually had them at such a disadvantage that no authority figure ever believed them.  So far, his plan with Tylee was working. He had successfully whored her out and taken control of her money. Now, as he studied Delquan his hunger overwhelmed him.

Darius approached Delquan , “Hey you little bitch, get over here!”

Delquan looked up from his comic book and regarded Darius, “What do you want Darius?”

Darius swept across the room and struck Delquan in the face with an open hand, knocking Delquan to the floor, and nearly knocking him unconscious.

“Didn’t I tell you always call me sir you little bitch!” Darius stood over Delquan lining up for another strike if this young piece of shit disrespected him again. His vodka infused breath surrounded Delquan like a fetid fog.

Delquan tried to look contrite, “I’m sorry sir, what can I do for you.”

Delquan knew the look in Darius’s eye meant that he was going to get raped. Darius had raped his way through all of the boys in Tylee’s house, and Delquan realized it was a matter of time before he was next. Delquan knew that there was no way he could fend off the attack of a 200-pound man, so he carefully calculated his next move to both incapacitate Darius, and guarantee his movement out of the home.

Darius stood over Delquan with a stern look in his eye, “A little bitch like you is good for nothing but sucking a real man’s dick like mine. You get over here and do what I tell you to do, or I’ll kill you.” Darius dropped his basketball shorts and pointed to his hardening member, “Suck it you little ho.”

Delquan, putting on what he called his “scared face” and approached Darius’s crotch.  He took Darius’s penis in his hand and opened his mouth.

Darius was looking down and murmuring, “That’s right ho, suck my dick.”

Delquan opened wide and took Darius’s penis into his mouth. Before the first feelings of pleasure reached Darius’s brain Delquan bit down with all of his might and severed the head of Darius’s penis from the shaft. As Darius dropped to his knees screaming, Delquan and spit the head back at him as he sank to the young boy’s level. Darius curled up in a ball on the floor screaming for help when Delquan brought the vodka bottle Darius was drinking from down on to his head again and again until Darius stopped moving. The official cause of Darius’s demise was a skull fracture, but the report did mention the condition of his penis as being severed by unknown means.

The entire incident was covered up by social services because it would have exposed the incompetence, corruption and abusive of its leaders, so Delquan was quietly shipped to another home.  Delquan’s next stop was with the Martinson’s. They were a dream couple in the foster parent racket, educated, wealthy, and willing to take any child that came available. Unfortunately for them, they happened to be white. The prevailing “wisdom” in the Milwaukee social service office was that white families couldn’t effectively raise a black child, so every effort was made not to place black children with white families. This practice was illegal of course, but that didn’t stop the placement coordinators from implementing their own brand of social engineering.  However, in Delquan’s case economic and political circumstances created this situation, and young Delquan moved in. The Martinson’s were both teachers.  James Martinson was a tenured professor of History at Marquette, and his wife, Belinda, was a math teacher at Rufus King High School. She recognized the intelligence behind young Delquan’s eyes and made every effort to tease it out and cultivate it. As a result, Delquan thrived, and became a model child through his teen years, respectful, hard working, and loving. At least this was the face he presented to his parents and the authority figures in his life. Beneath the veneer, Delquan was a master manipulator, moving both his peers and adults about like pieces on a chessboard. As a result, he moved through school easily, and had little difficulty projecting the image of engaged and interested student.

Delquan had his first encounter with failure thanks to his hubris.  Through his parent’s connections, he was placed in Rufus King High School, which ensured that he would be sought after by the best colleges. Unfortunately for him, he also needed the best grades to get noticed, and he was not doing as well as he thought he should be doing in AP English. He knew he needed a better grade to ensure that top flight colleges would clamor for him upon graduation, so he created a trap for one of his favorite mice.

He knew that his AP English teacher, Mr. Kagan was a closeted gay man, so one day after school he turned on the charm and was able to trap him in a very compromising position during an after school meeting.  He met Mr. Kagan in the Target parking lot by the school, and they went for pizza. During the meal, Delquan gave Mr. Kagan every possible signal that Delquan was interested in him. Mr. Kagan could not resist the young man’s charms and fell for him totally. After a session of kissing and some petting in the teacher’s car behind the pizza place, Delquan knew his hooks were firmly in Mr. Kagan.  Delquan knew that once he implemented the blackmail portion of the plan Mr. Kagan would fall completely in line, or be personally and professionally destroyed. Monday he began phase two. Delquan stayed after class and put his plan in motion against the unsuspecting teacher. Delquan approached Mr. Kagan’s desk, “I enjoyed spending time with you after school on Friday Mr. Kagan.”

Mr. Kagan blushed, “I enjoyed it too, Delquan, do you think we can meet again?”

“I would like to sir, but I have a problem that only you can take care of for me. You see,  there is the matter of this C plus grade you’re giving me, that simply won’t do. I need an A to get into Princeton or Harvard, and that’s where you come in. You will give me an A, and maybe I’ll forget about you sexually assaulting me in your car, how does that sound….baby.”

Mr. Kagan blanched and nearly fainted. Delquan enjoyed watching this pervert twist in the wind thanks to his forbidden appetites. Mr. Kagan began to cry, tears welling up and running down his face, looking like he received a punch in the gut.

“Delquan, no one will ever believe you, after all, I am a respected member of the faculty……”

“Drop it Mr. Kagan, I’m sure that several of your colleagues suspect that you are gay, and the minute that a student like me makes a complaint, you’re fucking doomed! Remember, I can be very convincing when playing a role.” Delquan smiled evilly.

“Get out you little shit, just get out!” Mr. Kagan dropped his head to the desk.

“Remember boyfriend, an A, nothing less, or it is curtains for you.” Delquan left the room smiling triumphantly, sure in the knowledge that there was nobody could stop him now!

Unfortunately for Delquan, Mr. Kagan was a devout Catholic, at war with himself over his urges. He made his way to the Principal’s and confessed everything, sealing his fate as well as Delquan’s.

Knowing that this was an extremely delicate issue that could ruin careers if mishandled, but an issue that nobody could afford to ignore, the principal made some calls. A meeting was set up between Delquan, the headmaster and his parents for the next morning to try to work this problem out with as little fuss as possible.

The next morning, Delquan sensed trouble the moment he entered the office after being taken out of class, and found his parents, Mr. Kagan, a man from the legal department of Milwaukee Public Schools, and the Principal waiting for him in the office. The Principal began, “Sit down Mr. Martinson” and directed him to a chair in front of his desk.

Delquan sat and looked like he had no idea what was going on. He tried to project the image of the confused and slightly concerned student.

“What can I do for you sir,” he said in his most obsequious tone.

“Delquan, it’s been brought to my attention that you and Mr. Kagan were involved in a rather sordid incident last Friday. What do you have to say about it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir….Mr. Kagan, what’s going on here?”

“Delquan, Mr. Kagan has already confessed to his part in the incident, it is upon your honor to admit yours.”

“Sir, all I can say is Mr. Kagan is lying, I have nothing to do with him outside his classroom!”

The man from the Legal Department spoke, “Look here young man, we have statements from the employees at the pizza place that put you two together there on Friday afternoon. We also have a statement from another employee that saw you having sex behind the building, so drop the act!”

Delquan began to sweat, they had him. He couldn’t believe that Mr. Kagan would sacrifice himself in order to destroy him. He tried to come up with a plausible excuse for his behavior,  was he blackmailed, forced, overpowered by Mr. Kagan……he couldn’t fit any of these excuses within a reasonable narrative that the Principal would buy. He hoped his silence bought him some time.

The Principal continued, “Delquan, admit it, you lured this poor man to his destruction for a better grade. Your conduct is so unbecoming I cannot allow you to continue as a student here unless you admit your complicity. If you do so, I will allow you to graduate, but you can forget any endorsement from this school. Understand that you are only being extended this courtesy because of your parent’s sterling reputation as educators.”

Delquan sat stone-faced. He was placed in check for the first time in his life, and he didn’t like it at all.

His father was the first to speak, “Take the deal Delquan; it’s the best one you are going to get.”

His mother looked at him with barely contained disgust, “Listen to your father, it’s your only way out young man!”

Delquan hung his head and accepted the deal. Two weeks later he graduated from Rufus King just like everybody else in the herd. He fumed as the honor roll names were read off, and the crowd clapped at the other student’s achievements. He should have been up there, but the fates conspired against him and for the first time in his life he tasted bitter defeat. He vowed never to be defeated again, no matter what he had to do. The future he envisioned for himself; rich, powerful and top of any profession he chose was gone. Despite his parent’s best efforts to give him a chance to be accepted to Marquette University were slammed shut, never to open again. He decided that he was not going to attend some no-name school in the middle of nowhere just to get a meaningless scrap of paper that might land him a dead end job. Another plan began to form in his mind that would make the best use of his talents and reward him in a different way.

After a week of living like a prisoner in his home under the disapproving looks of his parents, he couldn’t take it anymore. He left home that night without telling his parents where he was going, leaving a post it note on his pillow saying “YOU ARE DEAD TO ME." When the morning came, he went to his local recruiting office and signed with the first military service that could get him out of town.

The Marine recruiter nearly howled with glee when he found Delquan on his doorstep with all of the necessary documentation in hand.  In two days, Delquan was on a plane headed to Parris Island South Carolina, and Marine boot camp. Delquan excelled in the hyper-masculine environment of boot camp. He was able quickly to identify weaker members of the platoon who possessed skills he needed, and soon had his very own little cadre of minions.  He was able to usurp the coveted role of the platoon leader by way of pure ruthlessness from the person that rightfully held it.  To Delquan, it appeared that the traits he had in the Marines held some value, and to his delight, were heartily encouraged by his drill instructors. He graduated at the top of his training platoon, receiving the accolades he desperately needed and did not receive at Rufus King. He specialized in security, and was transferred to Lackland Air Force Base, Texas to the military police school that the Marine Corps and The Air Force Security Police shared.  Once again, his ruthlessness and ability to recruit different minions paid off and he quickly rose as a contender for Class Leader for his academics and physical skill.

However, the Air Force, in the form of Chief Master Sergeant Maren identified Delquan for what he was, a manipulative psychopath.  Chief Maren hated Delquan’s sneaky nature and obsequiousness, and made efforts to monitor young Delquan's activities as he progressed through the training regimen. In week three of training, Maren was able to quantify how dangerous Delquan was, and began to take steps to stop him. Chief Maren observed Delquan threaten and blackmail another classmate for his homework, and further, threaten the student’s life if he ever reported him.

One day, as Delquan was passing by the Instructor’s office, he heard Chief Maren make several negative comments regarding him and his methods. He overheard Maren say to his commanding officer, Gunnery Sergeant Dale, “Jim, I am telling you, that Delquan ain’t right, he is a mean and sneaky little shit I saw him strong arm Smith for his homework yesterday and threaten to cut his dick off if he told. Smith won’t say anything, which makes my job in getting rid of him all that much harder.  Did you see what he did to McCurran in training last week?”

“No.”

“Well, I was there and with this other incident, I am going to try recommend that we get rid of this kid…at least kick him out of security and back to regular infantry.”

McCurran was an Air Force trainee and also a contender for Class Leader. He was a favorite amongst his peers as well as the training cadre for his mental quickness, his ability to build constructive teams and his willingness to help his classmates achieve their goals.  Each man had their promoters, but the odds said McCurran would be chosen to be Class Leader

When they were in hand to hand combat training last week, McCurran and Delquan were sparring. One would hold a boxing pad, and the other  would strike it. Delquan was striking the pad with a furious set of blows, and McCurran was holding the pad and fending off the attack. Delquan saw McCurran look away for a moment and saw his chance to eliminate his competition. With his left hand, he pulled the boxing pad down, exposing McCurran’s face and delivered a punishing right to McCurran’s face. McCurran’s nose flattened and both orbits of his eyes were shattered by the punch. He fell to the canvass and was immediately surrounded by his classmates. As they were conveying the broken man to the hospital, several students approached the instructors and voiced their suspicions, they knew Delquan did McCurran dirty, but nobody could say they witnessed Delquan illegally strike McCurran.  It was written off as another training accident, much to the chagrin of Chief Maren.

He heard Gunny Dale come to his defense, “Bob; I don’t see what you are seeing, yeah, he is a little brownnoser, but I think he just wants to get through training like every other recruit here. As for McCurran, it was an accident it was just the way the boxing pad moved down at the right moment. I know McCurran is in the hospital for the next week with broken facial bones, but he’s a tough kid and will make it with the next class.”

“I suppose, but that doesn’t excuse Delquan. You know what Dale, I’m going to recommend dismissal from the Academy. I just can’t have this kid around anymore. I know he is a Marine, and I’m Air Force, but I’m the chief instructor and what I say goes.”

Delquan scurried away from the office, wondering what to do, how could he get rid of Maren without having a bright red neon arrow pointing back at him? As he made his way back to the dormitory, his mind began to calculate the angles of his new predicament.

Delquan became Class Leader by default, much to the chagrin of Chief Maren. Delquan kept his energies under a tight leash; he knew Maren was watching his every move, looking for that excuse to kick him out. Delquan chafed at the negative attention, but while he was being watched, he plotted and planned his next move.

Five weeks later it was obvious that Maren’s efforts to remove Delquan failed, and Delquan was staying.  The squad was on the obstacle course, going through their final exam when the opportunity Delquan was looking for presented itself.  Chief Maren was at the top of the rope-climbing tower directing the class over the obstacle when it became Delquan’s turn on the rope. He easily climbed the rope hand over hand and reached the top of the tower to come face to face with Maren. He glared at Delquan and then looked away for a brief moment handing Delquan his chance. Delquan shifted his weight ever so slightly and nudged Maren off of the railing-less platform, where he fell 35 feet to the hard ground, dying instantly of a broken neck. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be just an unfortunate training accident, and no investigation could prove otherwise. The death of Maren sent a shockwave through the tight community of Lackland, and the decision was made quietly to graduate the unlucky class a bit early and send them on to their assignments as quickly as possible.

Delquan, like most Marines ended up on Okinawa. While there he decided to bide his time and do his tour of duty as quietly as possible. He quickly became the First Sergeant’s right hand man, acting as if the power of the First Sergeant was his own. Being the first Sergeant’s right hand gave him entrée to special training, duties and assignments that would benefit him if he ever had to go back down into the mud with his fellow Marines. In 1990, Delquan’s life changed significantly when he was sent off to Saudi Arabia in the big buildup to destroy Saddam Hussein.

Life on a Navy ship sucked for Delquan. Being a Marine, he was kept under pretty tight scrutiny during onboard time. What was worse for Delquan was that he met others like him in his sister service that had all of the illicit concessions wrapped up tight and running for their benefit, making the journey across the pacific and Indian Oceans intolerable. Once offloaded to Qatar to guard the Headquarter element of the Sixth Fleet, he found an opportunity in selling pieces of U.S. Government equipment to the locals for a pretty penny. He scored when he was able to snatch about 5000 rounds of 5.56 ammunition and sell it to a shady character who made it know that he was in the market for as many guns and as much ammunition as he could get his grubby paws on. With the money in his pocket, he set to work creating his own little arms dealing concern. In three months, he had made several deals with his newfound friend Mohammed, and amassed several thousand dollars in cash. Theft of equipment was extremely easy, thanks to the large amount of stuff flowing back and forth to and from the expected battle zone. Nobody missed a crate of bullets here, and a few grenades there, and even a rifle or two from the convoys of shipping crates that moved through the port. By his fourth month in business, he had $50,000 in cash that he was able to send back to the US in regular parcels. 

It all came crashing down the day Qatari security forces caught Mohammed with his latest load from Delquan. The police in Qatar don’t read people their rights, so a couple of well placed shocks to Mohammed’s genitals got them the name of his co-conspirator inside the American forces. Delquan got arrested, and court marshaled for theft and war profiteering. He was sentenced to five years in the Navy Brig at Portsmouth, New Hampshire and shipped out immediately to begin his sentence.

Delquan’s stay in Portsmouth was not as bad as he thought it would be. He quickly rose to a leadership position in the prisoner hierarchy, thanks to his vicious nature and his skill at spotting and exploiting weakness. In short order, he was the king of the sports book, and had a large piece of the drug smuggling business within the walls of the prison. He enlisted people to put some of the money he had sent home from the big sandbox on the books for him, and settled into the quite life of a prison inmate merely doing his time until his release. He lived the low and slow life, having his army of minions doing his dirty work for him and counted the days until release. When that day came, he was dishonorably discharged from the Marine Corps and given a cheap suit and a bus ticket back to the place of his birth, Milwaukee.

Milwaukee proved to be a tough town to break into crime wise. He didn’t have any friends in the criminal underworld, and the new breed of criminal who had taken over was even more insane than him and quite trigger-happy. These new crime lords were willing to kill your entire family over a real or imagined insult, or for the shoes you happened to be wearing.  Delquan decided that crack was far too dangerous a profession to be in, so he chose another route, he sold heroin on the behest of the South Side Spanish Cobras as their representative to the primarily black North Side. At first, he was barely making a living, but the crack epidemic, and the violence that came with it began to subside in the late 1990’s. Heroin became the choice of white suburbia, and Delquan’s fortunes once again turned in his favor. He became the biggest supplier to the suburbs of Waukesha, Brookfield, Mequon, and Cedarburg. His Spanish Cobra masters were very pleased with his progress, so they sent him to a new and potentially more lucrative market full of white Liberal suburbanites that were ripe of the picking, Madison, Wisconsin.

     Life was great for Delquan in Madison, the white farm girls, as well as the affluent white girls from the suburbs, quickly fell under his spell as he blended into campus life and sold his product with impunity. He kept up the appearance of a manabout campus, social activist, and older student trying to make good. He ingratiated himself with the most liberal of academics and professors who swooned at his hard luck story and staunchly defended him when he occasionally ran afoul of the Administration.

      However, with graduation approaching, he had to find a way to keep control of this very lucrative market. So he recruited the best and the brightest criminals from the ghettos of Milwaukee and Madison. He arranged to have their education paid for in exchange for being his sales network on campus. Their instructions were simple, keep out of trouble, attend class and sell his product every chance they got. If they got caught, Delquan could easily blame it on youthful indiscretion and sent the offender back to the ghetto on a rocket.

             When Delquan recruited Mustafa Jenkins from Milwaukee, the game changed radically. He saw a person just like himself, but instead of being totally out for number one, Mustafa saw himself as the savior of all oppressed blacks everywhere. In Mustafa’s view, if you were black, you were oppressed  by the white man and it was your duty to attack and confound Whitey until ultimately they lost the simmering race war between the races. What better way to weaken Whitey than to poison them with the devil’s serum otherwise known as Heroin!  Knowing (or thinking) he was a target of “the man," he chose to camouflage himself as a less threatening Louis Farrakhan clone and gave the appearance of being heavily involved in the development  and success of minority youth on campus through study, good manners and community activism for the benefit of his people. His sharp suits and courtly manner also earned him entrée into the liberal academic circles and afforded him a degree of protection from the nosy campus cops. He became Delquan’s right hand man, organizing a distribution network around the campus and greatly increasing the bottom line. Delquan was very pleased, not only were profits rising, he earned himself another level of insulation from his drug distribution business. If Mustafa got caught, he would totally disavow him and leave him to his fate.

             Delquan kept up his image as social activist and mover and shaker. He often consorted with the legitimate Black leadership who needed Delquan’s story and charm to extort more resources out of the establishment. Delquan became intimately familiar with the routines, secrets, and private lives of the Black establishment, filing away the information until he needed it. He played these chumps when he needed to, and in order to maintain their status in the community; they played ball……and then the flare hit.

             Knowing that whatever happened was a bad thing, he started to take steps to ensure his prosperous survival in these new conditions.  Delquan knew that he did not have the people to make a stand against the gangs that riddled Madison, much less the panicked civilians that would soon be flooding the streets.  He decided to get as far away from the city as possible and wait it out for everyone to finish each other off. In order to survive this new environment and wrest the resources needed to continue his existence, he needed to build an army.  Delquan, with the organizational help of Mustafa, gave many fiery speeches at all of the black fraternities on Campus. He spoke of a world where they were in control, answering to nobody, and living like the proud black kings and queens they were, instead of fighting each other for scraps in the white man’s world.

This version of reality was widely appealing to the majority of the students within his thrall, despite it being very short on reality in America of 2013. In a short period, he had over 250 members in his new army, and as he stood on the hood of the snowplow they were able to start, he yelled “East my army, east, to finally rule!” On the way out of town Delquan had them stop at the local National Guard Armory, after all, he needed weapons to equip his newly minted military force. Lucky for him a few members of the reserve unit that occupied the armory were now his to command. They were able to bluff their way in and overwhelm the caretaker force. Delquan gave the vanquished soldiers a choice, join with him or be left to deal with the panicked residents  of Madison, who would be knocking on their door within a matter of days.Most of the captured soldiers eagerly joined with Delquan’s army and helped load the small stockpile of weapons which consisted of M-4 Rifles and about 25,00 rounds of ammunition into the vehicle. As they left Madison, Delquan ran into some of his gang contacts and further expanded his army, marching in solidarity under the benevolent, yet firm hand of Delquan. As he rode on the snowplow with his army in tow, he thought to himself, “Man, am I good or what?”

Chapter 9

             Upon arriving back in town, Chief Krusk sent a couple of runners to round up the town leaders to discuss the new threat that is at the town’s doorstep. She also sent for Grinker, and made arrangements to replace him on the road block. While we waited, Elaine changed into something a bit more suitable for a council of war. Gone was the uniform skirt and heels, replaced by 5.11 pants and boots. She opened a desk drawer and produced a bottle of Makers Mark Whiskey and poured Robert, Simone, Mitch and I two fingers.

We raised our glasses, and Elaine said, “Here’s to new found friends and success in our future endeavors.” She then took her drink down in one shot, smacked her lips together and smiled saying, “That is good stuff, my friends, good stuff.” and winked directly at me and fixed me with a look that made me blush a bit.

In about an hour, the principal townsfolk had gathered and the story regarding the battle at the roadblock had been related, with Grinker nodding at the most important points and acting as a witnessto what happened. Needless to say, the town elders concern grew; it appeared that their town was in danger of being attacked by an unknown force that might be strong enough to win. As they were discussing this new reality, Jim Duffy remarked that Mr. McDonnel had not arrived at the meeting and that the runner they sent to bring him to the meeting, Jim’s boy, Zeke had not returned either. It was then that it hit me, the new threat may have taken up residence at Mr. McDonnell’s farm.

As the town fathers were mulling over this potentially bad development, a runner came into the meeting with urgent news and a white woman in tow. The runner, a kid named Jared, explained that the crew at the roadblock stopped this woman who said that she had just escaped from the McDonnell farm. The farm was occupied by a group of about 250 men and women, including a black man named Delquan who claimed to be the leader.

The woman was brought in and sat down on a chair in front of the group. Chief Krusk began the questioning.

“What’s your name miss, and how are you associated with the gang that attacked our town?”

“I’m Mary Smith-Baker, and until recently I was a slave to the group that attacked you today.” She tried to put on her best “wounded woman” look to convince her interrogator that she was indeed sincere.

Elaine continued, “I see, what can you tell me about this group, in particular this Delquan character?”

Mary though a few tears was in order, and she gave a hitch to her voice, “He is the leader, he used to be some campus activist at UW-MADISON, where the majority of us are from. He convinced most of his followers that they should start raiding places to ensure the survival of the group. Most of us bought into the vision he described. After all, we wanted to survive. But then Delquan started issuing women to his most loyal followers, and I began to realize that I was nothing more than a slave. I was raped several times already by Delquan’s second in command, Mustafa.” She let out a few more tears and sobbed.

Mary continued to sob and cover her face with her hands. She thought a few more tears were in order and then she would set the hook. Mary was offered a handkerchief by one of the leaders at the table, and she used it to dry her face and compose herself.

“When you repelled the attackers at your roadblock, Delquan thought that maybe they should leave the town alone and withdraw to other hunting grounds. It seemed that the fight went out of the rest of the group, after all, they had friends that died at your hands, and were at a loss about what to do next. In the confusion and arguing, I was able to escape and make it to the road block, and here I am.”

Mary sat back in her chair and let a few more tears slip down her face, “Please don’t hurt them at the farm. Most of them are just regular college students who fell under the spell of a charismatic leader, they did not want to harm anyone. They’re scared and hungry, perhaps you could negotiate a truce or something?”

This information confirmed my worst fears; the farm is the opposing group’s base, and the McDonnel family was dead. Also, they had young Zeke. Something about the woman’s story nagged me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but her version of events didn’t add up in my mind. Her demeanor was also a bit off…I thought she was acting, but didn’t have enough evidence of it directly to accuse her.

This news regarding his son set him off. He rose from his seat and approached Mary casually. Once he got close enough; he seized the front of her blouse in his strong farmer’s hands and lifted her from the chair.

“Where is my son you bitch!”

“I..I…Don’t know sir, I know they have him, but I don’t know where they are keeping him.”

He dropped Mary back in her chair and turned to the Chief, “Let’s get over there right away and wipe these fuckers out!” “They have Zeke, and they are going to kill him if we don’t act now!”

Elaine was about to answer, but I waved her off. I collected my thoughts before responding, “Let’s be smart about this Jim, if what Mary says is true, we are dealing with a scared group of kids that will surrender without a fight. Perhaps they have already freed your son.  I’ll sneak over there and observe a bit before we commit too many resources, after all, if this woman is to be believed, the group is in pretty bad shape and not looking for a fight.”

Elaine tried to change the subject, “Mary, I’m sure that you’re tired; I’m going to send someone to come and take care of you. Grink, escort Mary out and wait with her in the hall, have Mrs. Waller come and collect her directly.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He took Mary by the arm and exited the room. In a short time an older, friendly looking woman appeared in a simple cotton dress and was warmly greeted by Grink. She was introduced as Mrs. Waller the local seamstress and all around good sort.

After the departure of Grink and Mary, the meeting broke up. Jim was not happy about waiting, but volunteered his other son, Sam to take me to the deer hide not too far from the McDonnell place so we could observe it from a safe distance. Sam arrived at 7:00pm, dressed in old style Army BDU’s with his face painted perfectly for maximum concealment. Simone lent her bike to the boy, and Mitch opened the front storage area of Thing 2 and removed a rifle case that was about three feet long and had the words “Big Mama” written on it. Inside the box was a bolt-action rifle with a heavy 18 inch barrel. At the muzzle, the barrel expanded to about the size of a coke can and had a network of ports cut through it.

Mitch beamed proudly, “This, my friend, is Big Mama! I had it specially made by a guy out in Montana….it is guaranteed sub-minute of angle at 1000 yards. It has a five-round box magazine, and weighs about 14 pounds….super light for a rifle with these capabilities.”

Mitch affixed a large starlight scope to the weapon and ran through the capabilities of the glass. “Flick the switch here ad you will go from starlight to FLIR, allowing you to pick up heat signatures. I suggest you use this setting if you have to shoot it has much higher resolution. Anything under 500 yards and all you have to do are place the center dot on your target and squeeze. He smiled a devilish smile, “I wish I was going with you, I would love to see this baby in action.”

He then handed me a box magazine filled with .50 BMG rounds. The bullets had red painted tips with a silver stripe of paint where the red paint ended.

“These are armor piercing incendiary rounds, they’ll punch through an inch of steel at  1000 yards and then set fire to whatever they hit . God help the piece of equipment or person it strikes!”

I took the rifle and the bullets and stowed it on my bike, “Hopefully, we will just be taking a look, and not alerting anyone to our presence. We’ll be back by morning, so you and the others get some rest.”

I stepped close to Mitch, “Keep a close eye on this Mary woman, she and her story don’t match up. I smell a rat, or a spy.”

Mitch nodded and called Simone over for a private confab regarding my concerns. I gathered up my gear and mounted my bike and headed out of town towards the river and the trailhead that would take us to the deer blind.

Mrs. Waller, whose given name was Edna, approached Mary, “Come on with me dear, let’s get you cleaned up and fed, it looks like to me you might need a bit of rest.”

Edna led Mary out of the police station and down the street to her home. While walking down the street, Edna kept up a commentary about the town and the recent happenings. It didn’t take much for Mary to gain a wealth of information regarding how many people were in town, but also the operations they were undertaking in order to protect the town from Delquan and the horde. This information included the improvised weapons and barriers that were being developed by a mad-scientist type named Mitch who just came into town with that large black woman and the man she had already met at the police station with Chief Krusk, Ben. When they arrived at Mrs. Waller’s home, she was led inside, only to be stopped by Edna’s Dachshund Tippy. Tippy sniffed Mary and snorted, then retreated to his bed in the kitchen, eyeing her suspiciously. Mary was then directed to the bathroom to freshen up while Edna gathered up her soiled clothes and provided her with some new ones from her daughter’s closet. As Mary showered, she thought about all of the good intelligence that she was getting for her man Delquan. She had a brief fantasy about being his top lady and replacing that bitch Aquanetta from that position. She smiled and thought about her next move as she took her first shower in a week. When she finished, she found a simple cotton shift dress on the bed along with some fresh underwear. She dressed quickly and went downstairs, where Edna was preparing her a simple lunch consisting of some canned chicken and some pickles from Edna’s own personal root cellar. A freshly baked loaf of bread accompanied the simple meal along with a glass of warm tea. Mary inhaled the food as if she hadn’t eaten in days, which was partially true, the food supply at the farm were barely adequate, so food was rationed to stretch what little they had in the pantry.

After the meal Edna asked, “Mary, would you be a dear and help me prepare dinner for some of the workers?”

“Whatever I can do to help Mrs. Waller, thanks for the delicious meal.”

“Wonderful, why don’t you come over here and pack what I make into this basket.”

The women worked side by side and in a short amount of time they had two baskets packed full of sandwiches and other fixings. Mary was led out the back door where a large radio flyer wagon was waiting.  Mary helped pack the wagon and took the handle and headed down the street towards the work areas. Mary was pleased to see some of the town’s defensive preparations and improvised weapons. Mary played the part of the grateful refugee, answering questions posed to her by the work group.

Once done with the meal distribution at the various stations, including the area where most of the town’s supplies appeared to be stocked, they headed back to Edna’s house for their dinner and bed. Mary planned on escaping the town that evening while Edna slept. In a brief time she gained some valuable intelligence about the town and its preparations, especially about their defensive capabilities. She swelled with pride at being able to bring Delquan this news, and fantasized about being top lady at the compound. She laughed to herself, “These bumpkins have no idea what’s going to hit them in a few days!”

After a simple dinner and a glass of moonshine that Edna was famous throughout the town for, they talked for a while about the happenings in the town and what skills Mary had to contribute as a new resident. Mary lied convincingly about her gardening skills and made happy noises about being a part of a community again. The truth was she was great at growing marijuana, the only crop her parent’s thought was important.

Chapter 10

We rode to the trailhead through the paved streets of the town. I glanced over at my guide, Sam. He appeared to be about 14 or 15, powerfully built as years working on a diary farm will do to a young man. He had a concerned look on his face as he guided me through the streets of Cambridge and to the trailhead at the shore of the Fox River outside of town. As we approached the trailhead, he stopped his bike and looked me in the eye.

“Mister, I don’t know who you are or what you can do, but if we come across my brother can you help him?”

“Sam, we’re going to work together and get him out of any jam he’s in.  Let’s just get to the hide and check it out, ok?”

Sam nodded, and we made our way along the trail as the light faded, ending our first week on the road. We arrived at the hide just as darkness fell, and I set the rifle up and pointed it in the direction of the McDonnel’s farm. I switched on the scope, and as it warmed up, I began to see crystal clear infra-red images of people moving about the farm with purpose. The windows were lit with candles, giving off blooms of light in the high tech scope. The rangefinder estimated that we were exactly 435 yards from the front door of the homestead.

I scanned the perimeter of the farm and noticed that things were settling down for the night. Since electric lights became a thing of the past, as he sun faded, so did outside human activity. As I scanned further, I noticed what looked like a scarecrow sitting against a tree about 10 yards from the front door of the homestead not moving. The sight registered a large heat bloom emanating from the scarecrow, which led me to believe that it was a person, more than likely our missing Zeke.  Since he was still giving off heat, I assumed that Zeke was still alive, but probably immobilized in some way. As I studied the still form further, another person approached them and splashed the seated figure with water from a bucket, causing a fit of writhing from the individual. I called Sam over to the scope and had him take a look at the captive. After a long look, he said excitedly, “That’s Zeke, I’m sure of it. I think he’s tied to the old time wagon wheel in front of the farm.” He was about to rise and run out to free his brother, but I restrained him.

“Wait, let’s think about this for a second. Is there any way we can get close to the farm without exposing ourselves?”

Sam thought for a moment and snapped his fingers, “There’s a drainage ditch that goes around this field and ends about 50 yards from where Zeke is, the only problem with that is about 20 yards of that is open ground with no cover at all.  Behind Zeke is a wooded area that leads away from the farm. If I get to that after freeing Zeke, I’m sure we can lose anyone pursuing us and make our way back to town.”

I thought it over for a moment. Sam knew the land, could probably be a lot stealthier than me, and would more than likely be able to free his brother as a single rescuer. The plan, while risky, seemed sound, I decided to go with it.

”Sam, I’ll cover you from here with Big Mama.”  I gave him a small IR flashlight out of my pocket, “Flash this twice in my direction when you have freed Zeke, and I’ll cover your escape.”

I gave him a small bolt cutter and heavy duty wire snips I packed for the trip.

“Use these to free Zeke, they might have used more than a rope to secure your brother to the wheel.”

“Ben, I figure it will take me about 10 minutes to reach Zeke from here, a couple to free him, and we will be off. I’ll see you back at town!” Sam melted into the darkness and headed off to free his brother.

After about 15 minutes, I spied the two flashes from Sam, and watched him begin to free his brother from the wagon wheel. After a few more tense moments, it appeared that they were going to get away clean, but, unfortunately, Mr. Murphy decided to show up and derail our plans.

Chapter 11

Sam crawled up out of the drainage ditch and quietly made his way across the open space, occasionally stopping to take advantage of a shadow and listen for signs of people or another activity. Thanks to his camouflage abilities, honed by years of bow hunting, he was virtually invisible to the untrained eye and quickly made his way into a position where he could see his brother. He flashed his IR light back in the direction of Ben to let him know he had made it and looked at his brother. Zeke appeared to be unconscious, with his head slumped against his chest, and his arms tied to different spokes of the wagon wheel above his head. Taking a final look each way, Sam made his way to his brother’s side, clamped his hand over his brother’s mouth and shook him gently to arouse him from his stupor.

Zeke’s eyes sprung open, and he grunted slightly. Once his eyes focused on his brother he relaxed, and Sam took his hand away from his mouth.

“You okay brother?” Zeke nodded his head. “We need to get out of here and warn the town, there are over 200 people here and they plan on attacking Cambridge soon. Ok, let’s get you untied and let's the heck out of here, we’ll head into the woods and double back to town.”

Sam began to work on his brother’s bonds and found that his captors had used a piece of old rope to tie him to the wheel. Thanking his lucky stars, Sam produced a pocketknife and cut his brother free.  His brother rubbed his hands and flexed his legs to get some circulation going.

“Z, let’s get going before we’re found out.” Sam and Zeke turned toward the woods to make their escape from the farm.

Just as they were standing up, one of Mustafa’s guards, Ray-Ray, rounded the corner of the house. His eyes were not used to the deep darkness of the country thanks to being brought up in a well lit urban area, but his ears were working just fine and he heard the brothers in conversation. He stopped and squinted his eyes and saw the brothers begin to scurry away into the woods.

Ray-Ray yelled, “Stop you motherfuckas! Hey everybody, the kid is getting away!” Ray-Ray brought the baseball bat he was carrying up to his shoulder and began to chase the boys while his alarm aroused the camp. Several followers began to fan out as best they could in the darkness to re-capture their young prisoner. Delquan and Aquanetta were awakened by the cries and yells of their troops as they searched for the two boys, a fact that was not lost on Ben looking at the commotion from 425 yards away through his high-tech scope. Aquanetta lit the white gas lamp at the side of the bed and made her way downstairs to yell instructions to the searching troops. It wasn’t like Aquanetta was a master tactician; she just liked to yell and feel important.

Just as she made her way out onto the porch with the lantern held in front of her, I decided to intervene and spread further chaos to assist the brothers in their escape. I lined up the scope on the brightest spot of light I could find and took the slack out of the trigger of the massive rifle. The rifle boomed, and I felt as if he was moved a few feet backward from the recoil as a 750-grain incendiary and armor piercing bullet flew towards the lantern in Aquanetta’s hand. At 425 yards, the bullet struck the lantern in a split second, destroying the lantern, Aquanetta’s hand, and set fire to half the porch before coming to rest in the engine block of the tractor Delquan’s people had just got going after hours of painstaking work. Aquanetta burst into flames as the white gas vaporized and ignited in a cloud around her, setting her cotton nightgown ablaze in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately for Aquanetta, she never heard of stop, drop, and roll, so she ran around the front yard burning like a giant torch until she succumbed to her injuries.

Delquan just exited the farmhouse when he felt a blast of heat at his face as Aquanetta ran down the stairs covered in flames screaming at the top of her lungs.  She began to run in circles in the front of the farm. Delquan watched in fascination as Aquanetta ran in smaller and smaller circles, her cries weakening until she fell on her face in the driveway and stopped moving. Delquan continued to watch as his troops jumped over her flaming body to search for their recently lost prisoner until two of Mustafa’s guards covered Aquanetta with a tarp, extinguishing the flames and covering his most recent lover from public view. Delquan had little concern for the late Aquanetta. However, the escape of the prisoner was most unfortunate.

Mustafa approached Delquan who was still standing on the porch observing the chaotic scene unfurled around him

“Sir, it appears that the prisoner has escaped,  but…..”

Just as Mustafa was about to finish his sentence Delquan struck him hard on the left side of the face. Mustafa bellowed and dropped to one knee while Delquan stood over him and screamed, “No shit, you don’t say, our prisoner escaped?”

Mustafa recovered his bearings and stood to face his leader. He was enraged that Delquan disrespected him like that, and if it were any other time, Delquan would be dying in a heap in front of him, but given the circumstances, he would take this insult for the moment.

I decided to let one more round loose and boogie back to town. I sighted in on the tractor and fired a second time. The bullet hit the engine once again, making a bright flash and a loud “PLINK!” as it struck the metal of the engine and ignited. Six of Delquan’s followers were peppered with bullet and tractor fragments as they milled about their damaged machine. Delquan’s head mechanic, Rupert  was killed instantly as a large piece of the engine block separated from the engine and dropped directly on his head, as a result of the bullet strike.

I packed up quickly, concealed Simone’s bike as best as I could, and jogged my bike back down the trail until I was out of the line of sight of the McDonnell farm. I mounted my bike and made my way back to town as quickly as possible. I reached the trailhead in about 20 minutes and walked my bike to the nearest roadblock passing through and heading to the Police station to share what I had learned with the others.

Upon arriving at the police station, I was surprised to find that both Sam and Zeke had beat him back to town and were happily reuniting with their father. I smiled and thanked the powers that be for their escape, and went looking for Simone, Robert and Mitch to tell them what happened, and what I had seen at the farm. I found Simone conferring with Elaine, Mitch, and Robert in the Chief’s office. They were all bent over a map of Cambridge and were discussing where they should place manned defenses to protect the town from the army at the McDonnel’s. Upon entering the office Elaine looked up and smiled, “I see you have returned, I was beginning to get concerned.”

I took a deep breath, let it out and said “Yep. Ladies and gentleman, we have things to discuss. Let’s bring Zeke in here, he has the best intelligence concerning our foes.”

I went back outside and asked Zeke and his dad to come into the chief’s office. As they made their way into the office, I approached Sam and put my hand on his shoulder.

“You’re a brave young man Sam, I was proud to have you out there with me tonight. I think this town owes you a debt of thanks.”

As I began to walk into the building, Sam touched my shoulder, “I was happy I could rescue my brother, thanks for putting your trust in me Ben.” 

I looked the young man in the eyes, “Anytime, Sam, anytime.” I Left Sam outside and made my way to the chief’s office to speak to Zeke and his dad.

When I entered the office, I found Zeke sitting on a small couch with his father sipping a warm Coke and smiling from ear to ear. Simone, Mitch and Robert were seated directly across from them, and Elaine sat behind her desk. A chair was placed for me next to Elaine, and I gratefully sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. Elaine began the debriefing.

“Zeke, we want to talk to you about the McDonnel’s farm and what happened there, do you think you’re up to that?

Zeke took a sip of his Coke, “Sure ma’am, hopefully I can help, ask away.”

Elaine was a very good interviewer, teasing out critical details that most would miss or disregard as unimportant, and thoroughly going through the boy’s story until she was sure that all the intelligence we needed got addressed.

Elaine began, “Zeke, what can you tell us about the people at the farm?”

“Ma’am, I think that there are about 200 people there, but it doesn’t look like they’re soldiers. I think they’re college students, I heard several of them complaining about the amount of manual labor that is needed to keep the farm going. No, they are not farm folk.”

“What are they motivated by Zeke?”

“I kept hearing that they were all black kings and black queens and that they were destined to rule the Midwest under their leader Delquan. For all their talk, I don’t think that they have a plan, and they are hoping that a massed attack will be successful. He wants to take the town and spend the winter here before moving on.

“Did you identify any leaders while you were there?”

“Sure did. The leader is Delquan; he’s an idiot with delusions of grandeur. His second in command is this one eyed guy named Mustafa, he likes to beat people up and make people afraid of him. He was the one that tied me to the wagon wheel as an example to the others. Then there is Delquan’s girl Aqua-something. She has a loud mouth and likes to push people around.”

“Did you hear anything about their plans, like when and how they were going to attack?”

“Well, I heard that they were planning on attacking within the next few days, but didn’t hear an exact date. But I did see Delquan and Mustafa walk from the farm with a white girl, and return bragging that they now would have a spy inside the town feeding them information…I think I heard them call her Mary or something like that.”

Elaine turned bright red, and I choked on a glass of water I was drinking. This confirmed my suspicions, Mary was not what she appeared to be. We needed to act fast and get Mary into custody right away! Elaine ran out of the room yelling, “Grinker!”

I decided to continue the interrogation in the absence of Elaine. “Zeke, my name is Ben, and I have a few questions for you if you’re willing to answer them, it that ok?”

“Sure sir, my brother told me that you covered our escape, thanks a lot!”

“Did you see any weapons in the compound?”

“Yeah, I sure did! When I got captured, they stuck me in the shed and I saw several crates of Army guns, like the soldiers have on the news, and a good supply of ammo. I didn’t see anything else, but it appeared that all of the leaders carried a pistol or revolver. I also saw some of the people leading the rest of the group in target practice. I don’t think that many of them knew one end of a rifle from the other though.” Zeke smirked at his last comment and then let out a yawn.

Knowing that we were unlikely to get any more out of the exhausted boy, we let him, and his father return home. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 1 am, yet we still had lots of work to do, and many things to discuss. 

As we were finishing with Zeke, Grink returned to the room with Elaine in tow. Elaine appeared ashen and on the verge of tears. She sat heavily in her chair and stared vacantly at the ceiling

Grink frowned, “Ben, I’ve got some bad news. Mrs. Waller is dead, Mary killed her!”

“What?”

“I don’t have the whole story, but Green does, I’ll let him tell it.”

Grinker waved a tall and thin man in and introduced him as Green.

I said, “What can you tell me Green?”

Green sat in a vacant chair, “Well, there is not much to tell. We were responding to a complaint of Mrs. Waller’s dog barking. As we approached the house, I saw that lady that was staying with Mrs. Waller flee out the front door. She had some blood on her and tried to get back in the house when she saw us. We grabbed her and cuffed her up, and were bringing her here when we met Grink.”

Elaine sprung from her chair, despair turning to white hot rage, “Where is that treacherous snake, she is as of now a fucking dead woman!”

I grabbed hold of Elaine and whispered to her, “Now is not the time, let’s get the facts and then we will decide what to do with her. Besides, she has valuable information that we need.” I hugged Elaine to keep control of her and felt her relax in my arms, her rage spent for the moment.

Grink whispered into Green’s ear, and he left the room.

“We got her in a cell downstairs stripped naked. Hopefully, in the morning she will be willing to talk.”

“Grink, leave that to me, I have some interesting methods I would more than happily try on her.”

After that shocking revelation, we all agreed that we would all get about 6 hours of rest before we interrogated the spy so we would be fresh and alert. Simone and Mitch drifted off to their assigned quarters. Robert did the same and walked down the hall, disappearing into the late evening.

I decide just to crash in a cot they had in the basement of the Police station.  I went into Elaine’s office and found her sitting in a pool of light cast by her small lamp, with her bottle of Makers Mark resting next to a half full glass.

“Elaine, I’m going to crash in the basement after taking a shower….I’ll see you in the morning. That is unless you want me to stay with you a bit”

She grunted and shook her head in my direction, and I left her in her office to deal with the pain of losing a good friend.

The building had an old style gas fired hot water system that was unaffected by the EMP, so there was plenty of hot water for showers. I stood under the ancient showerhead and soaked in the steam and felt the tension leave my frame. As I began to soap my chest and shoulders, I felt a presence behind me and found Elaine standing behind me, naked, with her hands at her sides and a hopeful look on her face.

“Is there any room for me in there Ben?”

I stood aside as she took her place under the cascading water. She wet herself under the hot stream, and I found myself soaping her back and hips with the sponge I had in my hand. She had a fantastic body, soft in the right places, but also very taught and strong in others. I continued to soap her body, working my way to her chest and gently soaped her pert breasts.

I felt her hands begin to stroke my manhood causing me to take a deep breath. It had been a very long time since I had been with a woman, and it appeared that she decided that she was going to have me. My hands parted her legs and stroked her velvety folds, which earned me a sharp intake of breath, she bit her lower lip and looked deep into my eyes.

I was now fully aroused. I quickly washed the rest of the soap from us and carried her to one of the waiting cots. She directed me to lay on my back, and she straddled me and guided me into her. She rode me and met my thrusts as we writhed on the cot in that holy motion. Moments passed, and I found myself unable to hold on against her lusty assault. “Elaine I’m about to blow!”

She rode me harder until I could hold no longer and felt myself let go into her. She nuzzled me neck, and I felt her contract around me as she yelped and moaned, eventually collapsing on to me and kissing me on the lips.

I was totally spent. I lay on the cot with this wonderful piece of woman on top of me and drifted into the place between sleep and wakefulness. I felt her get off and poke me in the side playfully, “Back in the shower Ben; I want a clean man in my bed tonight.” I took a quick shower, washing off the evidence of our lusty enterprise and dressed. Elaine and I walked out of the basement door of the Police station to her home a few blocks away. She let me into a beautiful one-story ranch, and we walked back to the bedroom, where we undressed and fell into bed. Just before sleep took us, I asked dreamily, “Why did you do that Elaine?”

“I needed to celebrate life. She then kissed me on the lips, and rolled over, her back against mine and began gently to snore. Just before sleep took me I thought to myself, “Ah, to celebrate life indeed my dear.”

Morning arrived, and I found myself lying in the bed alone. I smelled coffee brewing, so I got out of bed and made my way down the hall to the kitchen. I found Elaine in a short satin robe with a dragon and phoenix pattern you would find on a tight fitting Chinese dress bustling about the kitchen. She looked up and smiled as I approached, crossed the kitchen and gave me a peck on the lips.

“Sit, it’s almost ready.” She returned to puttering around the kitchen, opened the gas oven and produced a dish containing a hash brown casserole just enough for two.

“Tah Daaah, the apex of my cooking ability!”

She placed it on the table, poured me a coffee and kissed me on the cheek. She then took her place across from me and served breakfast. I dug in and found a bite size piece of ham and cheddar interspersed with the shredded potato; it was heavenly! I took a sip of coffee and looked across the table at Elaine, gone was the tough cop replaced by a sexy version Suzy Homemaker. It was a bit disconcerting, but I found myself enjoying the moment nonetheless.

I felt her eyes on me, “Thank you for the wonderful evening and the breakfast, but what did I do to earn such a reward?”

She looked over the rim of her coffee cup, “From the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you. I know it sounds corny and maybe a bit strange, but I felt a strong attraction to you the moment you walked into my office. Once I found out about Edna, it came to me that I better celebrate life and take enjoyment while I can, so …… well you know the rest don’t you?”

I was floored; I have never experienced having a woman say these things to me. I had plenty of female friends, but I unluckily never made the transition from friend to boyfriend. It bugged me a bit as a young man, but as I got older, it bothered me less and less. A few years ago, I resigned myself to being a bachelor. Now, out of the blue, I have a fantastic woman telling me that I’m prince charming…unbelievable. I thought carefully about what I was going to say next. I certainly did not want to upset Elaine, she seemed a good sort, and the hazy beginnings of a future began to appear, at least in the fantasy portion of my mind.

She took my dish from me and continued, “It’s lonely out here amongst the cows and farmers, the only reason I stayed is because of my mother. She was an institution in the town, when she passed, I found I had nowhere else to go. So I decided to build a life here. I used my skills to get a job on the Police department and eventually became the Chief.  There were some men, but my time with them was very brief. I never found anyone I was truly drawn to. You, Ben, are exactly what I’ve been looking for in a man. You’re courteous, strong, brave, and willing to lay down your life for people you have no connection to. That’s a quality man in my book!”

I was flattered, but in this new world I wondered how it could ever work; we could both be dead in a couple of days. I thought that this distraction, however wonderful it was, simply could not take up space at the moment. Giving form to my thoughts caused me physical pain, no way was I going to give this connection up willingly….despite what logic dictated!

Once again I considered my words carefully to both table the matter and also leave the possibility open,  “What can I say, you are quite lovely, and I felt a tug when I first saw you, especially in that uniform skirt and heels. I would love to see where this takes us, but could we put it on the back burner until we have dealt with the Delquan issue?  I sighed heavily, “Dammit, why couldn’t I have met you a few years ago.”

She moved across the floor and sat on my lap, nestling in the crook of my neck and sighed, “I’ll behave for now, but once this asshat Delquan is dispatched we are going to talk, now get dressed, we got ourselves a murderous spy to talk to.”

Chapter 12

We walked back to the Police station, careful not to reveal what happened between us to the others and met Grinker, Simone, Mitch and Robert back in the chief’s office. The overnight guard, a man named Cook gave us a report on Mary’s behavior over the evening.

Cook mopped his forehead with a blue bandana and stood in front of Elaine’s desk, “Ma’am, that crazy piece of humanity raved all night about How her man Delquan was going to crack this town open like a lobster and kill every one of us for defying him. Between her threats of violence, she wept and screamed at the top of her lungs. She fell asleep around five this morning, until we woke her up for the morning meal.”

I looked over at Cook, “Did you give her bread and water?”

Cook looked slightly bemused, “No, but she certainly didn’t like the bacon and eggs. She said she was a vegan and that it was a plateful of murder or some such shit.”

I couldn’t help but snicker, “I suppose that a roast beef sandwich is out for lunch then?

Cook smiled for the first time, “Yeah Ben, I suppose it is.”

I stood up from my chair, “Cook, go with Grniker and put her in the interrogation room….I’ll be down in a few moments.”

Grinker and Cook left to prepare Mary for interrogation. I turned my attentions to other duties. I wanted Mary to sweat a bit in the box and let her imagination run a bit wild as to what we were going to do with her.

I moved towards Mitch, who had spread a large map of the town on the side table.

Mitch, what is the status of the defenses? Have you come up with any ways of defending us from Delquan?” 

There was a mischievous glint in Mitch’s eyes, “Oh, I have a few ideas.” Come by when you’re duties allow. Come on Robert, I could use a hand.”

Robert, Mitch and a few others from the defensive committee excused themselves to attend to their duties. Simone, Elaine and I were left in the office, and we began to discuss how we were going to interrogate Mary to extract the best information from her in the quickest possible way.

I approached Elaine, who was sitting at her desk deep in contemplation, “Do you want to help interrogate Mary? Sometimes it is good to have a team member on thee things.”

“I would love to help Ben, but I’m afraid that I would just cut her throat if I had the chance. I’m not very objective in this case.”

Simone raised her hand,  “I’ll help, I always love to be the bad cop!” She rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

“Thanks Simone, but I’m not just going to be bad cop, I am going to be evil cop! Let me take care of this myself, maybe that will be more effective. We don’t have time to fiddle fuck around with this, we need any information she has quick.”

Simone began to protest, but I interjected.

“Let me work on her first, if I can’t break her inside of an hour, you can have her Simone. Let me try it my way first. I need two things, a piece of paper and a small cup of vinegar…….”

I made my way to the interrogation room and was let in by Cook. Mary was handcuffed to the concrete bench by both of her wrists. She had a mean, defiant look on her face and sneered when I sat down across from her. I placed a piece of paper and the small cup of white vinegar out of her reach  and stared at her for a moment, giving her a placid look.

“Mary, you are in some deep shit, you killed old Mrs. Waller for no reason. She fed and sheltered you, and you repay her by stabbing her in the heart. That, young lady, has earned you a place in front of a firing squad.”

I looked at Mary for any reaction, just as I suspected; she gave me a sick smile, eyes burning with righteous fury, “An old lady sacrificed for the cause is nothing! Delquan will save me before your executioners have a chance to kill me.” She snorted derisively and looked away, the fear plain in her eyes.

I saw that small crack in her façade, so I decided to exploit it.

“Mary, you came from a pretty sheltered existence, didn’t you? I would be willing to bet that you’ve never had to endure any degree of discomfort in your entire life; you’ve never been hungry, thirsty, or been subject to real pain, have you?”

Mary’s eyes narrowed a bit, and her brow furrowed, wondering what I was up to. I knew at that moment that she began to understand what was going to happen to her. The wheels began to turn, and it dawned n her that I was going to torture her for information. As I spoke, I knew images of the rack, thumbscrews, and boiling oil danced through her head. For the first time, her face showed true fear.

“You sick fuck, you’re going to torture me, aren’t you?” She couldn’t get the fear look off of her face.

I moved in close to her and said in a menacing tone, “You’re right; I am going to torture you, but I won’t if you answer my questions truthfully. If you help me out, perhaps I can save your life.” I sat back in my chair, “First question, how many in your group?”

She looked at the piece of paper and said, “What, do you want me to write down those answers? How about you stick that paper up your ass….” I could tell she was proud of herself at finding some backbone.

In a flash, I grabbed one of her hands that was cuffed to the bench, singled out her thumb and dragged the paper across it at the correct angle, giving her a perfect, deep paper cut that began to bleed almost immediately. She yelped and tried to pull her hand away, but my grip and the handcuffs prevented her from doing so.

She screamed, “You fucker that hurt!”

Before she could protest further, I dipped my index finger in the vinegar and ran it along the opening of the paper cut. Mary screamed like she got tasered, and began to cry and curse at me.

I lifted the paper once again and said, “How many people in your group?”  She ignored the question and wasted no time at struggling at her bonds, so I grabbed her other thumb and repeated the process, opening up a deeper cut.

Her eyes widened and screamed, “Nonononononononono!” and looked at me with pleading eyes.

I dipped my finger in the vinegar once again and began to move towards her newly lacerated thumb, my eyes hard as stone. I dragged my finger over the new wound, and Mary howled like an animal and attempted to pull away again making raw marks on her wrists from where the handcuffs dug in.

I sat back and said, “I’m going to ask one more time, and then I’m going to cut something more sensitive……a lip perhaps, or maybe a nipple?” I chuckled darkly and picked up the paper again.

That broke her. She began to cry and screamed, “Ok, ok, I’ll tell you everything just no more cutting ….please!”

I stood up grabbed the paper and cup of vinegar and pushed them aside, “Give me a moment, and I’ll get you some band aids and water to clean this up.” I left the room and closed the door behind me.

Elaine gave me a quizzical look as I walked out of the interrogation room, wondering what I did to Mary.   I suspected Simone was convinced I turned into Mr. Hyde while I was speaking to Mary, glared at me, “What did you do to that poor girl you bastard!”

I waited until we were out of earshot and turned to face Simone and said, “Well well, where did bad cop go? I gave Simone a hard look, “I did what I had to do, all I did was give her a couple of paper cuts and dump vinegar in them. It hurts like a motherfucker, but doesn’t do any lasting damage.  To a person who hasn’t experienced any real pain, it is totally shocking. I broke her open like a coconut; she’ll tell us what we want to know now.”

Simone looked at me like I was speaking Swahili and said “is that it? I thought you were ripping out her fingernails or something.”

I looked at my friend, “Come on, we needed info fast, I knew she was weak, and administered a little pain to get what I needed. She is totally convinced that I will do much worse to her if she lies from this point forward. I need a couple of band aids and some water to clean her wounds, you listen outside and if her story radically deviates from Zeke’s we go back to the paper, but something tells me she is going to be straight with us.

I looked over at Elaine, and the look of revulsion evaporated, replaced with a broad smile, and she said “Man, you’re a piece of work sir, yes, a piece of work.”

I re-entered the cell and patched Mary’s thumbs up, and gave her a glass of water with a straw. She drank greedily, and I began to question her at length about Delquan’s operation. She answered truthfully for the most part, but lied a couple of times regarding the weapons they possessed. I knew she overstated their weapon stocks in a bid to intimidate me, but when I picked up a fresh piece of paper and the cup of vinegar again, she reverted to telling me the truth, and answered the questions I posed.

After about an hour,I was convinced that Mary had nothing left to give us about Delquan’s army, so it was time to end the interview. 

I decided to give her a bit of hope in case she decided to provide me with further nuggets of information, “Well Mary, I think you’ve been truthful with me, so I’ll put in a good word with the chief about your punishment. Maybe she’ll just banish you from the town instead of using you for target practice.”

Mary said, “Thanks, but I don’t think mercy is on the agenda for me with the people of the town….Hopefully, Delquan crushes you and your precious friends. I’ll look forward to seeing you in front of that firing squad!”

I ripped off one of my favorite comic book villains, Grand Moff Tarkin, “Charming to the last, my dear, charming to the last." I slammed the door to the interrogation room and made my way upstairs to report my findings in detail.

I entered Elaine’s office and found her sitting behind her desk with a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. She took a sip, “Remind me not to get on your bad side lover, I would hate to be subjected to your paper trick.”

I pulled up a chair beside her and put my arm across her shoulders, “Elaine, what I did was for the good of the community, and not because I enjoyed it. I read about this technique in a bookand thought it was pretty sick,but brutally effective on people who were unfamiliar with pain. It doesn’t permanently disfigure, and is pretty mild as physical persuasion goes, but by God it worked! We now have the advantage over Delquan, and if he decides to attack, he and his army are walking into a buzzsaw!”

I took her hand and squeezed it, “Elaine, we’re in this for our lives, if we weren’t, I would never have stooped so low but it’s a hard world now and we have to be tough.” I released her hand and stood to go and see what Mitch was up to, leaving her at her desk to think about what I had to say.

Chapter 13

I wandered out of the Police station and ran into Grinker. There was a curious smile on his face.

He shook my hand, “You’re a master interrogator, Cook told me what you did to that little bitch and how easily she broke. She gave the store away man; we have you to thank for saving the town.

I put a hand on Grinker’s chest and said, “stop right there partner, I might have gotten the information we need, but Mitch is going to be the one to save the day, I garan-fucking-tee it!”

“By the way, do you know where Mitch is?”

“He’s over by Johnson’s Greenhouse, come on, I’ll take you there.”

We made our way to the local greenhouse where Mitch was directing several people who were moving in concert to complete one of the many projects concerned with the defense of the town. Mitch noticed us as we approached and grinned broadly.

“Just in time for one of my demonstrations, this way gentleman!”

Mitch walked like he was an excited teenager about to attend his first prom and made his way to an area he called station 1. He picked up a simple clay flowerpot wrapped in fiberglass tape that looked liked it held about a gallon of material. The top of the flowerpot was covered in heavy roofing tar and the hole in the back had two wires sticking out of it. He walked to an open area flanked by mounds of dirt.  He set the pot in a wooden bracket and took us to an earthen berm for protection. The wall had a small aperture we could look through. He hooked both of the wires to a detonator with a “T” handle and raised the “T” to its highest point, the handle making a ratcheting sound as it reached the top of its pull.

“Observe, gentleman…and, by the way, cover your ears.”

The pot opening faced plywood figures who looked like charging soldiers that stood at distances between 25 and 50 meters from the device in a wide arc.

“Fire in the hole!”

Mitch pressed the plunger down. A loud BOOM came from the pot and several of the plywood figures disintegrated into toothpicks from the blast.

“Shazam! An improvised claymore mine!” I was amazed at the devastation,  with a small amount of these weapons at our command, ranks of Delquan’s soldiers could be wiped out in an instant

Mitch led us over to the next of his nasty surprises. Several people were working on sawing logs into pointed, spear-like staffs arranged along a central axis. The unusual thing about these objects was their size, they appeared to be about 30 feet long and about eight feet high. It looked like they would stop a car in its tracks without effort, but it didn’t look like they would be very formidable if attacked by a group on foot. To me, it looked like any reasonably fit individual could easily slip through the gaps in the logs.

I pointed this out to Mitch, “Although these are impressive, and would stop a vehicle, it doesn’t look they would deter a person much Mitch.”

“Ah, ye of little faith. I plan on stringing several strands of barbed wire within the trap to tangle up any adversary. While they are struggling through, we are picking them off with aplomb! These will be laid at all the main roads into town, by nightfall we’ll have them in place.

             We were led to the pesticide barn, where the next surprise awaited us.

“How much do you know about industrial scale weed control?” He said in a teacher like tone.

“ Nothing, but it appears I am about to get a lesson.”

“Quite so. Most weed control agents use common acetic acid as the active ingredient. However, it is much more powerful that the stuff you would find in your kitchen. This stuff will immediately burn eyes, noses and lungs, and if left on long enough, severely damage the skin. I rigged a couple of high-powered sprayers to deploy some of these agents, and selected a few guys to operate them. My  “Chemical Brothers” might very well turn the tide if we find our backs against the wall!”

Outside of the pesticide shack, several women were busy making Molotov cocktails under the watchful eye of Robert. They were using soda and beer bottles scrounged out of local recycle bins with a mixture of motor oil and gasoline.

“Brutal, sticky and quite effective” emphasizing his statement with a dry chuckle.

I saw Mitch in a new light; he was relishing his role as mad scientist and weapons designer, and it appeared to have gained some friends since he took on the duty of preparing defenses for the town to repel the coming attack of Delquan and his army.

Mitch finished with his little tour, “So what do you think. Do you think our adversary has a chance?

“What can I say Mitch, you’re a true master of disaster. Remember, be up at the Police station at six for the final planning meeting.”

“I’ll be there with bells on my friend!” He then returned to his duties, disappearing around a corner with a laugh.

Grink was excited about the tour that Mitch just gave us said, “Ben, I think we have a chance at pulling this off. Without you guys, we would have been crushed like an empty beer can!”

“We’re happy to help Grink, I only hope that it’s enough.”

We walked back to the police station where Simone and Elaine were waiting for us. We all walked back into the office and sat around a table to exchange information about what we have seen today, and set the agenda for the meeting later that evening. Elaine began the conversation.

“We have a radio network set up, and have deployed scouts along the most likely routes of approach. I authorized them to be weapons free, they’ll engage targets of opportunity as the army approaches town. Hopefully, we’ll tag that piece of shit Delquan on the road and his army falls apart.”

I smiled at my lover, “Good plan Elaine, it looks like the road defenses will be in place by nightfall. Now all we have to do is divide our fighting force adequately to cover the defenses.”

As we got to the details of personnel and their placement, Simone said to me, “Looks like you don’t need me for this part of the meeting, can I take Sam and retrieve my bike from the deer hide? I can take a closer look at the farm and get us some fresh intel on what our opposition is up to."

Elaine interjected, “That sounds good Simone. Sam is down the street working with the food storage crew, I’m sure he would rather go with you than stack canned goods. Take him out there with you, but don’t loiter too long. I want both of you to be back at the main gate by six so we can lock it down for the night.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Simone gave Elaine a small salute and headed out of the office to find Sam. He was hard at work in McFearsons General store securing canned goods brought in from the outlying homes. He was sweating heavily in the August heat, but plugging along like he had a purpose. Simone tapped him on the shoulder, “Chief Krusk authorized you to guide me to my bike at the deer hide, you up to the challenge little man?

He wiped his brow with a red bandana, “You know it ma’am, let me get my stuff and get my face painted up.”

“I think we can dispense with that my friend. Let’s scoot out there real quick, and get my bike. We’ll also take a peek at out adversaries before trucking back to town.”

              Sam followed like a pleased puppy, as they headed towards the main gate. Simone told the guards at the newly installed barricade what they were doing and they were cleared to leave the safety of the town. The melted into the woods at the base of the trailhead on what each of them thought was going to be a piece of cake assignment.

Chapter 14

Simone and Sam headed up the trail as quietly as possible and made their way towards the deer hide overlooking the McDonnel’s farm. The remained silent, not speaking in case Delquan had some scouts in the area. After about 45 minutes of hard marching, they came upon the deer hide and recovered Simone’s bicycle.

“All right! Still in one piece with all my stuff attached!

“I did the best I could do, I’m glad it worked out.

“You’re ok in my book little man.” Simone shook Sam’s hand. “Let’s see what our friends at the farm are up to, shall we?”

Simone settled into the hide and looked through the high powered binoculars at the McDonnel farm. From her initial assessment, it appeared to be relatively deserted, with just a few camp followers doing the mundane, but necessary chores a farm required.

Sam remained concealed in the brush. He heard some rustling behind him and noticed two black guys trying their best to sneak up on Simone.

“Simone look out!”

Both men jumped on Simone and attempted to take her to the ground. As she sidestepped a kick from one of the men she yelled, “Sam, get out of here and warn the town!”

              Mustafa’s guards were tough, but they wholly underestimated the black woman. The kid handily escaped on the bike back towards town and the woman was giving them a run for their money in the physical ability department. Ray-Ray, the larger of the two men balled up his fist and drove a knockout punch towards Simone’s face. Luckily, Simone saw it coming and slipped inside of Ray-Ray’s arm and drove a vicious knee into his testicles, crushing one and severely bruising the other. Ray-Ray dropped to the ground with a strangled scream, and Simone kicked the point of his chin as hard as she could. Ray-Ray’s neck shattered from the blow, and he fell dead. 

As Simone was finishing Ray-Ray, his partner Deandre saw his chance and kicked the back of Simone’s knee, causing her to fall to the ground. As she attempted to recover, he jumped on her back and administered a chokehold.

“Take that ho!”

Simone struggled with all her might, but her vision grayed and she began to see flashes of light until she lost consciousness. Simone went limp in Deandre’s grasp, and he let her go, causing her to fall to the ground face first.

“Yeah, MMA all the way! First bout knockout for Deadly Deandre!”

He quickly bound Simone’s wrists and ankles and threw her over his shoulder, thinking how pleased Delquan would be with his find. He retreated quickly to the farm, leaving his partner Ray-Ray to the crows.

Deandre carried Simone up to the porch and unceremoniously dropped her on the wooden planks. Mustafa smiled as Deandre preened.

“Mustafa, go get Delquan, I got a prisoner!”

Mustafa went into the house, and Delquan emerged after him.

“What do you have there young blood?” Asked Delquan.

“I found her out along the western border of the farm…..she put up quite a fight….I think she killed Ray-Ray. I was able to choke her out and tie her up so I could bring her here.” He looked like a proud dog begging for a treat.

“For your sake Deandre, she better wake up and be ok, we need information that she can provide. Mustafa, ’Dre, bring her upstairs and tie her to the chair……she has some explaining to do!”

Dutifully Mustafa and Deandre picked her up and brought her upstairs and tied her to a chair bolted to the floor in Delquan’s room. Rumor had it that some ladies in the group spent some pretty unpleasant time in that chair at the hands of Delquan.

              A short time later, Simone slowly regained consciousness and found herself tied to a chair that was bolted to the floor. A slim black man stood facing her flanked by an obsidian monster with one eye and another large black man on the other side.

Delquan said, “I’m terribly sorry we had to take you by force, but after what you did to Ray-Ray, my compatriot Deandre saw no other option.”

Simone eyed her captor trying his best smooth B love man act. She sized him up quickly thanks to her police training; this must be the famous Delquan. She also knew that her time was limited, if the nice guy routine didn’t work, he was going to sick his two boys on her who looked like they would take great delight in softening her up.

She decided to act like they were her saviors instead of her captors and slipped into her best ghetto hoochie mama voice. Simone said, “Come on now big papa, let me go, y’all saved me from those cracker muthafuckas.”

The woman’s comment surprised Delquan. He was under the impression that this woman was a fully-fledged member of the town and was doing everything she could to protect the boy by fighting like a banshee. Perhaps there was another reason for her behavior, he decided to question her further and see where it led.

“Tell me sister, what’s your name and what were you doing out in the grove?”

“My name’s Simone and I was trying to get away from the town, it’s a straight up Klan convention up in there. They treated me like shit the moment I came to town with Ben and the other two guys I was with . I even heard them call me nigger a few times behind my back! She huffed.

“How did you get into the town? Where did you come from?”

              “I was in Madison visiting some friends at UW-MADISON Madison when this shit started. They all hooked up with some male friends and left me on my own. The white guy I was with and his buddy let me come with them, we rode bikes out of Madison the night of the event. We hooked up with this other white guy who had a store, and he had a couple of cars that ran. We drove about 15 miles and came across a roadblock. They let us in, and that’s when everything changed. Once we got to town they turned into a pair of backwards-ass crackers from the farm and stopped being nice.”

              Delquan intoned, “They always reveal their true colors when they are in groups, don’t they sister?”

“You know it. Anyway, we had stashed our bikes there before we went to town, I was just getting  it back when your men attacked me! What the fuck, I am just a sister trying to get back to Milwaukee to be with my people!”

              “Would you be willing to tell me about the town?”

              “Sure, anything to get a little payback on those motherfuckers!”

              Delquan looked up from his prisoner, “Gentlemen leave us for a while. I want to get to know this poor sister a bit better.”

              Mustafa and Deandre left the room quietly, shutting the door behind them.

              “Now, what can you tell me about the town and its residents…….”

Delquan spent three hours with her and despite his best interrogation tricks; he was unable to shake her story. When Delquan got to the fight between her and his men, Simone looked to the ground.

“I’m sorry but I thought those cats were going to rape me, so I fought them as hard as I could. Are they ok?

“Deandre is fine, nothing a few band-aids won’t fix….but I’m afraid that you killed Ray-Ray.”

Simone rustled up some fake tears, “My God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kill you man!”

“I understand Simone, I suspect that they were about to exceed their orders…and besides, you have the right to defend yourself.”

“Now, what’s the story with the town, specifically, what kind of resources do they have, and do you think that they will be able to defend themselves against us?”

“Delquan, half the town is ready to leave because they are so scared of you. The other half want to negotiate with you to avoid a fight. I think that they are ripe for the picking if you attack them with your entire army soon.

“It would appear that they are pretty well-armed since they destroyed my snowplow…tell me, do they have any more of those weapons?”

“From what I understand, that was the only one they had. They got the same stuff as you….mostly pistols and rifles.”

“Who are their leaders? Is there a main one to watch out for?”

“The two guys I was with, Ben and Mitch have been doing all they can to prepare for you. Also, there is a bitch who runs the cops, take those three out, and you should have pretty smooth sailing.”

“Do you know of anybody else that arrived in town after you?”

“Yeah, some white gal named Mary…..word on the street was she was a spy for you. They got her locked up in the jailhouse in the center of town…..I think they fucked her up to get information.”

Delquan’s temper flared, “Those white bastards will pay if they harmed a hair on her head!”

He resumed his calm and measured conversational tone, “What is their weakest point? Where would be the best area to attack?”

“Delquan, if you want to take the town, you got to hit at the bridge on Water Street. I’ll show you the way….they’re expecting you to hit them at the junction of Highway 12 and 18. This way, you hit them where they least expect it. Also, that’s where their main supply dump is. Just inside the barricade. Before whitey knows what hit him, we’ll have taken their central supply dump.”

Delquan’s imagination danced with visions of bullets, bandages and butter, all for the taking. Further, he dreamed of the white residents of the town surrendering at his feet,  begging for mercy. It brought joy to his heart to envision such a scenario, but the calculating part of his brain that had served him so well up to this point in his life didn’t totally buy Simone’s story and urged caution.

“Simone, you must be tired. Why don’t you take some time to rest…..we have a big day tomorrow.”

Delquan opened the door to find Mustafa standing outside, “Mustafa, take Simone to the barn and make sure she has something to eat and a place to sleep.

“Yes sir. Simone, come with me.”

Mustafa led Simone out of the room and to her quarters. He had some thinking to do. Perhaps Simone was a spy sent to confound him and his plans, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept that scenario. After about two hours of deep thought, he decided…Simone was on the level, and he would use her information to attack the town. He called a meeting and announced to his top lieutenants that the attack was tomorrow, and to make the proper preparations to leave the farm.

Chapter 15

Sam rode up to the checkpoint totally out of breath. Not only was the bicycle too large and heavily laden for him to ride correctly, but the trail was bumpy which made the mad dash from the deer hide all the more difficult.

Sam Stopped at the gates and yelled, “Let me in, the enemy has Simone!”

The guards opened the makeshift barricade, and Sam made a beeline for the Police station. Once there, he dumped the bike and ran up the steps into the foyer headed for the Chief’s office. The Police Station became a hive of activity since he was last here, with townspeople setting up a field hospital in the basement and critical supplies being stored in every available nook and cranny that was available.

Sam urgently knocked on the door to the Chief’s office and heard from inside “Enter!”

He ran to the front of the Chief’s desk, smartly saluted, “Ma’am, Simone has been taken by the enemy! We got jumped by a roving patrol, but I was able to get away.”

I jumped from my chair, “Sam, tell us what happened.”

“Well sir, we were getting the bike from its hiding place like we planned, and Simone decided to have a look at the activity at the farm. She said that there didn’t appear to be any real action, but saw people moving around like it was a regular work day. I spotted the men just as they passed the thicket I was in and yelled for Simone, but it was too late. They jumped on her and began to beat her something fierce. She yelled for me to get back to town, so I did.”

I looked at the young man before me who was acting like a well trained solider, “You did what you could and followed orders; I’m proud of you son. Now, do you think they took her alive?”

“I think so sir; she was giving them a heck of a fight as I was running away, I think they wanted her for information.

“I see…..well Elaine it looks like we have a new problem to contend with…a POW.”

Elaine nodded, Hopefully there will be a way to get her back. I would hate to lose her to this.”

I turned to Sam, “You did well Sam, don’t worry about Simone, she’s tough and resourceful. Now I want you to go to the greenhouse and fetch Mitch and Grinker, and then I want you to go home son, you’ve had a big day! I will see you tomorrow….dismissed!”

Sam executed a perfect about-face and left the room for his final duty of the day.

After about a half an hour, both Mitch and Grink showed up, and I filled them in on what happened to Simone.

Grink growled,  “Let me go with a couple of guys and get her back! I am sick of waiting these popcorn farts to show up….let’s take the fight to them!

I folded my hands together, “Not today man, we don’t know what they will do to her if we attack. I think they will probably use her as a bargaining chip. Let’s sit and wait for them to make the next move, after all we will be dealing from a position of strength if they come to us for a fight.”

Mitch weighed in, “Well, I think you’re right Ben. Let’s wait it out and see what happens.”

Grink snorted, “I wonder what Simone would do if they grabbed you? I think she would move heaven and earth to get you back Ben!”

I was stung by the comment, but I forced my anger down and answered calmly, “I certainly hope not! I‘m just one guy….the loss of me wouldn’t effect the outcome of the battle…you would do well to remember that Grink!”

Grink deflated a bit, “Sorry, I didn’t mean…..”

I cut him off, “Don’t worry about it man….We’re all under pressure here.”

“Grink, why don’t you make sure the guard schedule is set for tonight and knock off. I need you sharp…I have a feeling we’re going to war real soon.”

“Ok, see you tomorrow.” Grink left the office to attend to his duties.

I turned to Mitch, “How are our defenses doing?”

“They are shaping up nicely. We have the barricades set up with some sandbagged emplacements at each checkpoint. I planted mines discreetly at each checkpoint as well, enough to turn any army into hamburger if we get them bunched up! The plungers are all protected as well as the wires; the last thing we need is any of that stuff getting damaged.”

“Good. Where’s Robert been?”

“Robert is my right hand, you haven’t seen him because he has been three places at once for the past few days doing my bidding. Without him, we wouldn’t be nearly as ready as we are now. Last time I saw him he was filling sandbags with the assigned crew at the main gate.”

“I’ll try to get over there and thank him for his unsung work soon.”

Mitch chuckled, “Fat chance, you’ve been working just as hard. Let’s hope it all pays off.”

                                             ……………………………………………..

Sam made his way home to his mom and dad’s house on Pleasant Street.  His mother, June, was just getting home from the main gate after placing the final barricade in place and filling sandbags for the emplacements.

She waved at her son as he came down the street and yelled, “Come inside! I got a surprise for you!”

He entered the house and met his mom in the kitchen, “Hi mom, what did you get ahold of?”

She produced a six-pack of coke from behind her back and said, “I got this from Mitch. He stopped me and told me what a good job you did today, so he thought you should get a reward.”

She set the coke down on the kitchen table, and he took one from the carrier. It was warm, but he could hardly complain…he wondered how many Cokes existed in the world as of right now. As he drank, his mother looked at him with undisguised pride.

“Mom, do I have to stay in the shelter when the attack comes?” He knew that the children were going into the garage of the police station, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near there, he wanted to be at the main gate slugging it out with this guy Delquan.

His mother looked thoughtfully at the table, “I think it’s best for you to be there. I’ll know where you are and know that you’re as safe as possible.”

“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore….I’m almost 14. I’ve been in the thick of it since this thing started. Haven’t I proven my ability to take care of myself?”

“Well, I think you’re still a kid young man…and Mom’s opinion counts more than yours, so there. “You’ve done such amazing things over the past couple of days, but I want you to protect Zeke in the shelter…He needs you more that any of the barrier crews need you. Leave the fighting to the adults.”

Sam was steaming, but he knew his mother only want to see him protected. His dad made sure that he and Zeke were raised as men, not boys. They both had a ton of skills none of their peers had that would serve them well when their bodies caught up with their minds. Perhaps he would bring this up with his Dad when he got home from the fields today. Perhaps he could sway his mother’s decision.

“I’m going out on the porch mom.” He took his coke and called for his loyal Basset hound Rufus. Rufus trotted in from the basement and made his way out at his master’s side to the porch.

As he sat on the porch and drank his warm Coke, he meditated on the events of the day as he absently scratched the ears of his Basset Hound Rufus. He realized that his home was in danger and that the people coming to invade had no intention of treating the townspeople with any degree of kindness. It was at that moment when he knew that he had to stand with the men of the town and defend his home from the invaders.  He planned on heading to the roof of a vacant building next to the Keystone Grill directly overlooking Highway 12 and West Water Street, giving him at least 200 yards of open street to shoot directly down. He went inside and removed his brand new Ruger 10/22 and a box of CCI stingers from the gun cabinet. He returned to the porch and began loading the five 10-round magazines  full of bullets while his faithful hound laid at his feet and gently dozed off to the rhythmic clicking of rounds seating in magazines.  Once the opposing army arrived on the field, he would go to his perch and rain death down on the invaders.

As six o’clock arrived, the final planning meeting was in full swing. Cambridge was isolated at the four main highway junctions of 12 and 18, 12 and Highway A and 18 and Highway A and 12 and Water Streets forming a rough triangle. There were also listening posts and a few troops posted at Spring Street and Highway 12, West Cedar Street and Highway 12 and Airport Road and Highway 12.  Representatives from the unincorporated town of Oakland were also present, and they volunteered to man the roadblocks on Highway A, as well as the small feeder roads at Perry Road on Highway A and Hope Lake Road on Highway 18. They had been working with Mitch and his roadblock design, and at last report, had their areas of responsibility blocked off.

Mayor Kendrick of Oregon stood up from his chair, “We’re ready. We have the roadblocks in place, manned by some of our best shots. We got the improvised claymores in place and got them wired up just like Mitch told us…..don’t worry, we got your back door.

Robert finally made his appearance and stood, “I’ll be in command of the mobile reaction force. We’ll  take both Thing one and Thing two to transport the four-man teams to back up anybody that needs it. Thing one will cover the Western approaches, and Thing two will take care of the eastern approaches.”

Mitch stood and gave a report on the barricades, “We’re ready to go barricade wise. All approaches to the town are secure and mined. Nobody is getting through with anything less than another snowplow.” 

Elaine took the floor and said, “Our Police station is the communications hub, command post, and protected area for the children of the town. We have constructed a final protective line at each door and seeded the lawn with bullet traps and other nasty surprises thanks to Mitch. If the invaders get this far into town, they will have us to contend with…. we’ll make them pay for each inch of ground they take! We also have four scouts in the field covering the farm and the approaches to the town to warn us when Delquan is on the move.”

The last person to make his report was Myron Schenk, the local HAM guru. He was what you would expect a HAM radio operator to look like, squat, chubby and awkward. But his eyes were sharp and intelligent, and he had a very friendly demeanor. He took on the challenge of setting up and maintaining a radio net with gusto.

He stood and cleared his throat, “Our network is operating perfectly. We have each post wired with a radio, and the scouts are also equipped with longer-range units for communication. We have also devised a set of codes and emergency procedures in case the net gets compromised in any way. I think we are as ready as we can be in terms of radios.”

Elaine banged her gavel on the desk, “Is there anything else to discuss? Seeing nothing, I bring this meeting to a close….good luck everyone!” She stood and gathered her papers and prepared to leave the office as the meeting broke up, and the participants went there separate ways.

  At the McDonnel farm, preparations were also being made for the big attack. Weapons, consisting of M-4 carbines and Beretta pistols were distributed to the soldiers along with a meager supply of ammunition. Each soldier carried three full 30 round magazines for the rifle and a single magazine for the pistol if they had one. Delquan convinced them that lightness and speed would win the day, so they shouldn’t be unnecessarily weighted down with additional equipment.

Most of the “soldiers” were college students, with a smattering of gang members who had no concept how long three magazines would last them in a firefight. A lucky few carried a stick of dynamite from a box found in the barn and classified as sappers, charged with using their explosives to inflict damage on whatever they could during the battle. Unfortunately for them, a lot of that dynamite began to sweat due to its age, which essentially turned each of the sappers into an unwitting suicide bomber. They were then told to place their equipment at the foot of their beds and return to the front of the house for an important speech from their leader.

Once the troops finally assembled, Delquan stood on the front porch and gave what he thought to be the most important speech of his life.

“Brothers and sisters of the New Nubian Army, you are at a crossroads in history! We are finally in a position to take what has been taken from us…our dignity as the rightful rulers of the land. We are the new Nubian Kings and Queens of America.  With our blood, sweat and tears we will remake this land into one which serves us and us alone, while our enemies are driven before us and enslaved for their past crimes against the black race!  Destiny chose us to rule this land as our own…we have been given a chance by divine providence to take our place as the elite….but we must be willing to act with aggressive force to ensure that that place is never snatched from us again!”

The crowd began to clap and hoot and holler at Delquan’s words.

“Before us stands a town filled with the people and ideas of the old, decayed world. They failed to tame this planet and now must face the consequences for their hubris and corruption. We will go through them like a scythe through wheat. Have no mercy for these devils…..kill them all! Each town we come across will fall in the very same way until we at last reach Milwaukee. Milwaukee will fall to us and our might and then the state, and then the country! All we have to do is fight for our chance, and we will surely be triumphant!”

Delquan’s words whipped the crowd into a frenzy. Delquan fed off their energy and raised his arms in triumph.

“We are the new rulers of the world. We will control it; we will benefit from its fruits, and we will demonstrate to the world that we are its masters! Join me and help to make this happen! You will reap rewards beyond your wildest dreams. Now is our time! Tomorrow is just the beginning!”

The army was on it’s feet now hollering and clapping for the inspiring words given by their leader. For a shining moment, they saw Delquan as the King of the new world, a King that they would willingly follow to hell and back to make the dream he spun come true.

Delquan raised his hands for silence,  “Now it is time to party! Drink deep my warriors….for tomorrow victory is at hand! A cart full of captured liquor and a bale of marijuana they had liberated out of the liquor stores and drug houses while on their way out of Madison. Everybody indulged in alcohol and marijuana for an hour, getting good and drunk or stoned before they were sent to bed to rest.

After Mustafa gave final instructions to his troop leaders, he tried to corner Delquan and convince him that there was something wrong with Simone’s information.

“Sir, we need to talk about the upcoming plans for the attack on the town.”

Delquan glared at Mustafa,  “And what’s the problem now…..methinks you have a problem with a certain woman.”

“Yes sir. The information is just too good to be true…I think she’s leading us into a trap. If we do exactly what she says, we can lose the entire army……we simply can’t risk it in my opinion.

Delquan got up from the couch he was reclining on, “Why can’t you accept that the sister as finally awakened to the white man’s treachery and corrupt nature. She is helping us because she wants all of us to succeed. I don’t think she wants to destroy us, after all; I have looked into her soul and seen the truth!”

Mustafa rolled his eyes; he hated it when his boss went on these quasi-metaphysical tangents. He continued his protestations knowing full well he was skating on thin ice, “Sir, let me have a crack at her. I assure you I will get to the truth before we commit our forces.”

Delquan got face to face with his Lieutenant, his rage burning white hot, “NO! YOU WILL FOLLOW THE PLAN AS IT HAS BEEN DISCUSSED! OR WOULD YOU RATHER GO IN WITH THE TROOPS ON THE FRONT LINE!” Spittle flew from his leader’s lips and splashed Mustafa in the face.

Mustafa could barely control his rage. He wanted to skin this little prick alive, but he didn’t have enough  support from the group…yet. If he moved too quick to take the reins, he could find himself on the outside…or in front of a firing squad pretty quick.

He swallowed his aggression, “Yes sir.” He turned and left the room with slumped shoulders. He went down into the barn and issued his key people and additional magazine of ammunition. His most loyal supporters, all Milwaukee Street gang members, were happy to get a little extra ammo for the upcoming battle. He then met with the squad leaders and made sure that everything was in order before turning in. As he fell asleep, he thought to himself, “This plan had better work, Delquan….it had better work.

   On the morning of the seventh day after the event, the troops were then fed a small meal of corn and whatever else they could scrounge up from the root cellar. They picked the farm clean, either packing what supplies they could take or consuming it on the spot. Everybody was well aware that they had to take the town…there was no coming back here.  Mustafa Stood up on the cart and yelled, “Form up!

The troops all fell into their assigned places and stood at a semblance of attention. Mustafa addressed the troops, “Everyone, remember your training. Use cover and concealment, pick your targets and watch your ammunition, remember one well-placed shot will kill from these weapons, so don’t waste ammo!  Groups A and B, you are the assault force; it is imperative that you keep the defenders busy while C and D groups do an end run around the barricade and take out their command and control personnel and communication systems. If we do this right, we have a good chance of success. Move out!”

At 7: 50am, Delquan called for a march to the town, and the 200 men and women of The New Nubian Army marched forth to take the town, and whatever spoils they could find! The army made no pretension of stealth; they walked right up the middle of County Road PQ which turned into water Street as they crossed the border of Cambridge with Delquan and his closest advisors safely in the rear. Unbeknownst to the approaching force, they were under observation…..

John Charden and his spotter Louise Jenks were the first of the mobile scouts saw the formation moving toward town on Highway PQ about a mile before it met Highway 12. They were both wearing home-made ghillie suits which made them both part of the landscape.

John and Louise had been friends since high school. The draft took John away all those years ago and sent him to a little backwater place called Vietnam where his natural talent as a rifleman earned him a spot on a scout sniper team. One year and 78 kills later he was home and working in the Lumber mill alongside Louise’s high school sweetheart, Dan. They all became fast friends, and hunted with each other every year during deer season. John always got the biggest deer out of the group, and was able to turn his hunting skills into cash by guiding rich idiots from Chicago on his private piece of land. When cancer took Dan in 2000, Louise and John took up again and were living a comfortable life out away from the cities. When the call was raised to help the town, John asked Louise to be his spotter, using her sharp eyes and skill as a birdwatcher for he benefit of the town. She was a quick study, and armed with her spotting scope bought for her by Dan as an anniversary present, she and John headed out of town at dawn to observe the oncoming army and slow them down with a few well-placed shots.

John raised his binoculars and smiled, “Louise, glass those fools and tell me how far away they are…I think its about 325.”

Louise pointed her higher powered  spotting scope at the group…..John was right on the mark…329 yards.

“Right in the wheelhouse John, 329 yards and closing.”

“Pick one for me sweetie, look for somebody in charge.”

“Right-o!” Louise scanned the group and found an excellent target. He was standing up straight and pointing out things to other members of the group. Louise thought he must be an officer or somebody in charge. That stupid red do-rag on his head made him all the more easy of a target for her teammate.

“John, the idiot with the red do-rag, he was just ordering a few others around. Take him when you’re ready.”

John found him in the scope, “I got him…..sending it.” He took a full breath, let out half of it to steady himself and gently squeezed the trigger, sending a 147-grain boat-tailed bullet whizzing towards its target. John almost felt sorry about the man he was about to kill, but then remembered that this man was here for one reason, to take everything from him and his kin.

His target looked like he was taking a Sunday walk with his buddies across campus; he bobbed his head in time with his steps and carried his weapon casually as if he had no idea what it was capable of doing.

Just before Jesus Brown went to meet his maker at John’s hands, he was telling other soldiers nearby what he planned on doing to the townspeople when they won.

“Man, first I am going to get me some of that high school girl pussy. I mean I ‘m going to ride hard on that shit and bust it all up! Then I’m going to get my drunk on…wooohheeee this is going to be fu…” The bullet struck the newly minted soldier in the temple and blew his head apart, scattering it over his close compatriots and spreading fear and chaos through the ranks.

“What else you got Louise?” John ejected the spent cartridge and put it in his pocket.

“How ‘bout the woman with the yellow shirt pointing out toward us?”

Louise looked over at a woman in her rangefinder. She was pointing right at them and yelling something. Louise knew she had to die to discourage them from searching the fields.

John grunted, “She’ll do…Sending it!” Another 147 boat-tailed bullet streaked towards its target.

The bullet struck the female solider in the neck, nearly decapitating her.

It was time to go. John said, “Displace to location bravo.” They crawled along the brush line until they were out of direct sight, and then sprinted to their next hide, another excellent ambush point closer to town. The battle of Cambridge had begun, with the town far ahead of its adversaries in the kill column.

Delquan and Mustafa had their hands full bringing their troops under control after the quick strike by the sniper team. People surrounded their compatriots and cried and screamed. Some threw their weapons down and refused to continue. The majority of these so-called soldiers are still pampered University students, and had never experienced violence of this magnitude in their lives. Delquan knew that he was losing them, he had better motivate them quickly, or he and his core group would be attacking Cambridge alone.

Delquan stood on a small rise above the roadway and yelled, “People, please listen!” The army calmed down, and he raised the bullhorn he was carrying and began to speak.

“Brothers and Sisters, we are in the fight of our lives. The townspeople could have welcomed us with open arms, but no, they decided to resist. Their resistance to us represents the racism of the old world, which they will continue to cling to if we allow them to survive. We are the warriors of the new world; we will bring this wild place under control for our children and the betterment of the superior Black race!” He paused dramatically, “Could you face your brothers and sisters if you ran now? Would you be able to enjoy the spoils of hard-fought battle with them? I think not. We must move forward and honor our fallen comrades by taking this town in their name, and making them pay for spilling our precious blood!”

Simone, playing the part of the truly converted, stood up from the dead female soldier’s side and shouted, “Tell it Delquan!” Simone’s exhortations brought forth a few more “Yeah’s and Uh Huh’s” from the crowd.

Delquan was pleased from the small burst of energy provided by Simone, and used it to whip the crowd into a blood-crazed frenzy. “Oh yes, my brothers and sisters, they are trying to keep us down just like the Klan kept our brothers and sisters of bygone days down. But we as a people can no longer tolerate this treatment at the hands of these white oppressors! Join with me, and together we will crush our enemies, see them driven before us and hear the lamentation of their women!” He stole that last part from one of those sword and sandal movies of the 1980’s, and it had the desired effect. 

The army, buoyed by their leader’s words, quickly formed back up into their ranks, and began marching down highway PQ with payback on their mind and the sure and certain belief that they would quickly triumph over the townspeople.

John and Louise had set up about 600 yards away from the first ambush point and observed the leader of the group give his speech. He couldn’t hear much, but the wind carried some of the speech to John and he snickered to himself at the silly imagery that Delquan fed his supplicants.

“Louise, report to headquarters and give them a sitrep.”

Louise turned on the radio and dialed it to the right frequency, “Team one reporting.”

“Go ahead Team one.” Came back the calm reply of the radio operator.

“Louise keyed the mike; we have contact on Highway PQ, two bad guys dispatched. We displaced to location Bravo…awaiting instructions.”

The radio operator passed on the message to Elaine, who whispered a response. The operator keyed his mike, “Command authorizes two more shots at targets of opportunity, then get back to the line.”

“Understood,” Louise shut the radio down and whispered to John “Two more tags and we got to split.”

“Got it, let’s let them close a bit, then find me another.”

Louise got back behind her rangefinder and selected  a soldier in the front rank. The man carried a pistol as well as a rifle and his eyes burned with intensity.

“Front rank, center column…he’s got a rifle and a pistol, 300 yards and closing.”

“Got him….sending it.”

John decided to shoot him in the chest to increase terror in the ranks. If he didn’t die right away, maybe his agonizing last seconds of life would rattle the attackers further. He sighted his rifle, let out half a breath, and squeezed the trigger sending another 147 grain piece of death towards the enemy. The target reacted as if a baseball bat hit him. He whooshed out his last breath and fell like a puppet with his strings cut.

Unfortunately for John, his shot raised a small puff of dust from the dry ground, which was seen by some soldiers on the flank.

One of the soldiers yelled, “Over there! Over there!” Indicating where he saw the dust cloud rise from the ground.

Several soldiers fired wildly in the direction of the shot. John and Louise found themselves pinned down by unaimed fire. John tried to crawl to the tree line but caught a stray bullet in the side of the head, killing him instantly.

Louise screamed, “JOHN!” just a bullet struck her in the hip, shattering her pelvis.

Louise laid in the field gasping in pain. She heard the excited yells of the soldiers as they approached, knowing full well that they would kill her once they discovered her. She crawled to John’s rifle and removed the bolt and threw it away. She then took the radio and smashed it against a nearby rock, severing the communication link and denying the enemy eavesdropping ability. Louise rolled onto her belly and snapped the safety off of her late husband’s pistol, a Detonics 45ACP from the early 1980’s. She saw a soldier appear and yell, “Hey! I found one!” he shot John’s body several more times. He rolled John over and began to search him, laughing. Louise’s ghillie suit concealed her from the soldier, despite the face she was less than 3 yards from her husband. She  lined the sights of the pistol upon the young punk and emptied half of the magazine in him.

The young punk could only yell “Gurkkkkk!” as the bullets struck him, killing him before he hit the ground. Mustafa caught a movement in the field as he rushed to the aid of his soldier.

Louise rolled over onto her back; pistol still clutched in her hand, breathing heavily. Her strength left her, and she dropped the pistol on her side and faced Mustafa with unafraid eyes.

“Leave us alone you bastard!” She spat on the ground at Mustafa’s feet.

“Not after this, bitch!” Mustafa raised his pistol and emptied it into Louise, killing her.

After searching both corpses, Mustafa walked back to the to the column lost in thought. He thought to himself, “These two people were in their late 60’s, and yet they were acting as a sniper team, if we run up against fighters like that in town….man, we’re fucked!”

Mustafa re-formed the column and led Delquan’s within sight of the roadblock at US 12 and W. Water Street.  Delquan could see that the townspeople had put some barricades across the roadway.

“How pathetic, he thought. That puny fence isn’t going to stop us!” He stopped his army about 200 yards from the roadblock and sent for the flag of truce he had fashioned before leaving the farm, perhaps he could convince the town to surrender without a shot instead of losing the majority of his troops in a pitched battle. He raised the flag of truce and proceeded with Mustafa to a spot about 20 yards in front of the barricade.

He yelled, “Let me speak to the man in charge, we want to negotiate!”  The message was passed to the command post, and Chief Krusk and Ben made their way to the roadblock to speak to Delquan. Neither of them held out much hope for a peaceful  solution to their problems, but they had to find out if they could resolve the issue without resorting to violence that would end up costing everybody dearly.

Elaine approached the roadblock and held a bullhorn to her lips,  “This is Elaine Krusk, Chief of Police, who am I speaking to?”

Delquan cupped his hands, “I am Delquan Jones, leader of the New Nubian Army. You must realize that you are outnumbered and outgunned…..surrender now, and I will spare your lives!”

Ben began to laugh up his sleeve, “Who does this fucking  guy think he is, Genghis Kahn?”

“Shut up!” Snapped Elaine.

She raised the bullhorn to her lips once again, “We have no quarrel with you or your people Delquan,  but you are not welcome in your town because of your aggressive nature. If you leave now, nobody in your group will be harmed!”

This statement brought yells of derision and threats from the army at Delquan’s back, a few, “Kill those crackers” and some other choice racial epithets emanated from the group. Delquan turned to the group and yelled “Silence!” He turned back around to face Elaine, “You have spilled our blood already, was it not you who attacked our settlement and killed our soldiers first?”

Elaine frowned,  “Not before you attacked our roadblock, sent in a spy, and kidnapped a child sir, so I’m giving you one last chance, leave the area and don’t return! If you refuse, prepare face the consequences of your actions!”

Within the ranks of Delquan’s army, a 19th Street Lord gang member named Eldon Grimes became quickly bored with the back and forth between the leaders. He wanted to start this show and win the battle so he could do some serious partying once they took the town. He stepped out from the ranks and made his way to a park bench on the sidewalk. He braced the rifle on the bench and lined up his weapon on the woman behind the bullhorn standing next to a guy holding a rifle. He had a perfect shot at her head from his position.  He was going to smoke this bitch and get down to killing everyone else he could. He squeezed the trigger like Mustafa taught him, and the rifle barked. The woman dropped to the pavement like a rag doll. The man next to her covered her body with his and pointed in Eldon’s direction yelling “Sniper!”. Ricky DuMont, stationed in the bell tower of Lutheran Life Church drew a bead on Eldon and sent a 30.06 bullet into his skull, ending the young punks life.

Delquan jumped at the report of the rifle, and he saw the woman he was talking to fall to the pavement. There was a silence as everybody froze and a second shot rang out……then all hell broke loose!

Delquan screamed, “Slaughter them!”

Delquan’s army began firing at the barricade, killing several defenders in a hail of bullets. Delquan dropped to the ground and rolled under an abandoned pickup truck and frantically searched for an escape route from the free fire zone. Mustafa was not so lucky; he absorbed several bullets and fell to the ground in a heap, deader than disco.

Larry Clark, one of the defenders, low crawled away from his position and made his way to the plunger installed by Mitch the mad scientist. He raised the T-HANDLE handle and pressed it down like he had been trained to do. The box made a “ZZZZZIIIIIIIIPPP” sound and detonated the 46 flowerpot claymores lining both sides of the street on the flanks of Delquan’s army. Thousands of nails, pieces of broken glass, scrap metal, and fire flew into the doomed soldiers. Some of the sweaty sticks of dynamite attached to the sappers detonated by theflying  metal  in the claymores, creating other secondary missiles causing even more carnage. In seconds, over 200 people were reduced to scraps of meat, the few survivors of the initial blast had severe injuries, from missing limbs to collapsed lungs from the concussion of the explosions.

Delquan, being the lucky bastard that he is, remained unscathed, save a ruptured eardrum courtesy of the claymores. He emerged from under the truck, hoping that the large amount of smoke and carnage would cover his escape. As he moved to the edge of the roadway, young Sam caught movement through the small 4 power scope of his Ruger 10/22 and lined up on the fleeing figure’s head. He knew that the CCI Stinger would penetrate this jerk’s skull with no difficulty and scramble his brains. He said under his breath, “This is for Zeke”, and squeezed the trigger. The little 40 grain bullet streaked towards its target, and struck Delquan where the ear joins the skull, blowing it off. The bullet then skittered along the jaw line traveling at a downward angle fracturing 2 teeth in his lower jaw before exiting out of the point of his chin. Delquan let out a burbling scream, spitting blood and tooth enamel, but stayed upright and kept running. Sam snapped off and additional two shots that failed to find their target.  Delquan ran around the corner of the building, out of Sam’s line of sight. Sam clicked on the safety of his rifle and alighted from his perch and headed down to street level, knowing that he had done his part.

The smell of blood was everywhere, Sam saw a few of his neighbors lying on the ground while medics attended to them, but by the look on some of their faces, he knew they would not survive the night. Sam saw Ben bent over the Chief of Police desperately trying to stanch the bleeding from a head wound sustained by the chief.  He saw Ben rip a quick clot bandage from his IFAK and slap it on his lover’s wound. He then placed a gauze pad over the wound and yelled for a medic. Elaine got moved to a stretcher and carried to the Police station with an EMT in tow holding an IV bottle as they ran.  He saw Ben sit down on the pavement and hold his head in his hands, rifle cradled across his lap. Sam approached him and touched him on the shoulder. “Go see to the Chief, we’ll clean up here” After what seemed like an eternity, Ben rose from the street and made his way to the Police station.

Chapter 16

As I was making my way to the Police station, Mitch ran up to me  and trotted alongside.

“I heard what happened at the roadblock.”

He rubbed his hands together with relish, “It looks like my little toys were able to wipe out his whole force Ben.”

“Yeah, and I got a headache to prove it!”

Seeing that I was dragging himself along like I was going to get a root canal with a chisel, Mitch asked “is everything ok pal?’

I looked at Mitch with sadness, “Elaine”, and kept up my slow pace to the makeshift hospital fearing the worst.

Mitch stopped and said, “Anything I can do, let me know brother.” With that, he returned to the roadblock to do a detailed analysis of the damage incurred by his terrible invention.

I made my way into the basement and asked after Elaine, and was directed to the last curtained off section of the basement. I went over to the curtains and took a deep breath. I simply couldn’t bear losing this woman; she awakened something in me that was dormant, and now that it began to live again, I couldn’t go back to the way it was. My heart hammered in my chest as I parted the curtain and saw Elaine sitting up in bed with one of the medics stitching the 5 inch long gash in her scalp. She winced as the medic stitched her up, but when she looked up and saw me, she smiled, “You’re not getting rid of me that easy buster!”

My eyes filled with tears, and I sobbed, I wanted to hug her, kiss her lips and never let her go ever again, but that would interfere with the medic’s work.  As I was thanking every deity I could think of for keeping Elaine with him, Doc Halverson entered the enclosure and checked the medic’s work.

“Elaine, you can never buy a lottery ticket again because all of your luck is now officially used up! You probably have a mild concussion, so I’m advising a few days rest.  Keep an eye on your graze wound for infection; I’ll start you on a course of antibiotics to prevent that from happening. Come to my office in a week, and I’ll remove those stitches, I suspect you will be as good as new by then.”

Doc Halverson advised his staff that Elaine was to stay overnight for observation and then free to return to her home in the morning. He then left the enclosure to attend other patients in the ward. Sensing that I wanted to be alone with Elaine, the rest of the staff left her enclosure leaving us to our privacy.

I moved to the side of the bed and kissed her on the lips, “Please don’t ever do that again sweetheart, you should avoid bullets, not dance with them!” 

“I’ll keep it under advisement lover.” Elaine sank back into the bed to rest.

The medics found me a chair to sit in that was pretty comfortable, and I planned on staying the night next to the woman I was quickly falling in love with. We ate, dozed, and just existed in our little sheet-enclosed world.

During the middle of the night, I woke up in a cold sweat with my heart roaring like a freight train……Simone! I had forgotten all about her! The sickening realization came to me that they had either killed her when they captured her, or tortured her then killed her landed upon me like a lead weight. I got out of the chair as quietly as possible and made my way upstairs. There was a light on in the Chief’s office, and upon opening the door I saw Mitch and Grinker poring over a map.  They both looked up at me at the same time.

“What about Simone? We got to get to the farm and check it out! We gotta find her man!” Mitch came from around the desk with a concerned look on his face, “We were working on that, but I figured that you needed some rest, Grink and I are going to take one of the things and do a quick recon to see if any of Delqan’s army survived. 

“Count me in as well; give me a second to get my gear.” I made my way down to the hospital and grabbed my gear from Elaine’s bedside and rejoined Grink and Mitch at Thing One.

As dawn broke, we made our way back down Highway PQ to the McDonnel farm.  About a quarter mile out, we stashed the vehicle and made our way up the drainage ditch to the farm. Mitch glassed the farm with his binoculars for about five minutes searching each building thoroughly,  “This party is over, the place looks deserted.”

Mitch took up an over watch position, and Grink and I cleared the house, machine shack, and barn. Outside of finding a small amount of ammunition in the machine shack, Mitch proved to be right, the army fled this place. We did a thorough check of the outlying area for hasty graves or dumped bodies and found no evidence that Elaine was dead and buried. That thought brought the second lead weight down. Perhaps Simone was in the group as a prisoner when the army got destroyed on Water Street. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, “We have to go back and check," kicking myself for not even thinking of my friend during the battle. We boarded thing 1 and re-entered the town, headed for the barricade.

Robert was at the barricade supervising the cleanup of the carnage. A work crew of townspeople was busy cleaning up the mess.  The crews picked up bodies, as well as an assortment of pieces, and piled them in the center of the street. A 1950’s backhoe scooped up the remains and moved them over to a disposal site in the town dump where a mass grave dug that very morning. Other crews were scrubbing the street and washing it down with soap donated from the local car wash. The whole mess was then washed from the street with a fire hose hooked up to a fire hydrant while there was still pressure in the system. 

I approached Robert who was busy making checks on a clipboard, “Did you find any trace of Simone in that mess Robert?”

Robert blanched and swallowed hard, “I wasn’t looking man, besides, I don’t think that we would have been able to recognize her thanks to the damage that Mitch’s devices wreaked on those poor souls.”

“Thanks Robert, I’m going back to the hospital and see about Elaine.” He waved as we drove away in thing 1 back to the Police station, my heart heavy with the loss of my wonderful friend and fellow officer.

Meanwhile……..

              Simone crouched in the brush and eyed the town.  During the march to battle, she was able to slip away from the column into a cornfield. She couldn’t believe that nobody missed her, but then again, they were all yelping and woo woo-ing so much, she hardly thought they were going off to battle.  She was hungry, thirsty and wondered about how she was going to re-join her friends in the town without getting her ass shot off at any of the barricades. She figured that the townspeople would automatically assume her to be an enemy if she just casually walked up to one.

“I don’t think they are taking  too kindly to darker folk right now," she thought to herself ruefully.

She knew that  time was a factor in this situation. Ben and Robert would leave without her if she loitered out here, and if that happened then she was in some pretty shit. She said to herself, “Decision time bitch, die out here for sure, or potentially die approaching the roadblock, what’s it going to be?” 

She decided to roll the dice and approach the roadblock, after all, she was familiar with some of the people in town, hopefully she would be recognized by the people standing guard. After all, there weren’t too may six-foot black women roaming around town over the past couple of days.  She dumped her rifle and magazines and concealed them in the brush and made her way down the trail that she and Sam rode on a thousand years ago and headed back to town. She desperately hoped that she was not going to get shot to pieces for making this decision.

              Delquan woke from a troubled sleep. He was sweaty and felt like shit. The entire left side of his head was swelled up and throbbing, more than likely in the beginning stages of infection, he thought bitterly. He barely escaped the battle with his life, and certainly not unscathed. As he ran from the scene, he felt like he got hit with a sledgehammer on the left side of his head. His mouth filled with blood and he lost hearing in his left ear as he fled. He ran for what seemed to be miles, coming across the trailhead that led out of town he reached the safety of the woods and went immediately to ground and passed out.  As he rolled to a sitting position, he fumed at how his army failed him. All of those people he had saved from the hell pit of Madison, their laziness and poor training are what botched the invasion. Their stupidity had cost him any legitimate chance of ruling a large swath of territory! He gingerly touched his head; it was immediately painful and almost caused him to pass out. He tried to take a drink from his canteen, but his jaw felt swelled shut, which caused him a great deal of pain if he tried to open his mouth at all. Delquan knew he needed medical attention, if he didn’t receive some soon, he knew he would die. He thought about this problem and came up with a few scenarios that might work.  He still had his pistol so he could take a hostage,  or dump the pistol and play the part of a member of the army forced into service by the evil Delquan, or sneak into the town, find the doctor’s office and force him to treat his wounds. A thousand possibilities flooded his mind, unfortunately,  thanks to the infection growing in his body, Delquan was not thinking as clearly as he needed to. As he spun scenarios in his head about addressing his immediate problem, he heard somebody approaching his hiding place. All other scenarios dropped away; he was going to take this person hostage and demand medical attention. His spirits soared as he congratulated himself on his genius. He crouched in the bushes until the time was right and struck!

              Simone was heading down the trail thinking about her own problems when Delquan sprung from the brush and took her down in a perfectly executed side tackle. The wind was knocked out of her as they tumbled in a heap to the ground. Simone landed face down in the dirt, bloodying  her nose and causing stars to appear in her field of vision.  Due to the weight and strength of her attacker she assumed he was a male. He was breathing heavily and trying to grab her around the neck to gain further control over her. She drove her left elbow directly to the rear, making contact with her attackers face, and heard a satisfying howl of pain. She drove a second elbow backward, and her attacker fell away. She rolled to her side and regained her feet to face her enemy. When she saw Delquan, she was not surprised; his kind always comes out on top in situations like this. She drove a kick to his midsection, and he curled up on the ground. She now had the advantage; Simone rolled him onto his stomach and used an arm bar across his throat, pulling him to his knees. He struggled mightily, but was unable to break the black Amazon’s hold. Simone then exposed Delquan’s neck and delivered a punishing brachial stun, rendering Delquan unconscious. She got up off Delquan, huffing and puffing.  She untied his boots and used the laces to bind his hands behind his back.

“What a lucky find," she thought; she just found her ticket into town! She was going to turn this piece of shit into the town to face justice. More than likely, they wouldn’t shoot her if she were giving them something they would desperately want.

              When Delquan awoke, he was re-introduced to a world of pain. His head and neck throbbed; his hands felt tied behind his back, and the circulation was slowly being cut off from his arms, causing them to fall asleep. He looked up out of his one good eye, apparently the other eye suffered some damage in the scuffle he just had, and looked upon the sister he had taken prisoner a couple of days ago, and then recruited into his army! That traitorous snake, she ruined everything, all of his grand plans because she couldn’t stay the course with him. 

Simone approached him with a smile on her face, “Well, well, Delquan, it looks like you’re in some trouble now, I don’t think that the townsfolk will be too merciful with you once I deliver you to them.”

All Delquan could say was, “Fuff ooo bick” thanks to his ruined jaw. Simone stood him  up and marched along the trail to the trailhead. Simone tied a stick to Delquan with a piece of his white T-shirt tied to the top as a flag of surrender.

As they approached the Water Street Barricade, Simone raised her hands high and yelled, “I need to see Ben, Robert, or Mitch…I got the leader of the people who attacked the town!”

A voice yelled back from behind the barricade, “Drop to your knees and put your hands on top of your head!”

Simone dragged Delquan down with her and obeyed the instructions given to her by the unseen person. After about 15 minutes, she heard Ben yell, “Simone!” and run toward her with Grink and two guards in tow.

Grink immediately recognized Simone and yelled back to the guards, “It’s Simone; she’s cool!”

Grink helped her to her feet and gave her a friendly hug, “We thought you got killed, man, it’s good to see you!”

“Likewise, big papa. Look what I brought you.” She motioned to the sorry piece of humanity still kneeling in the street.

Ben ran to Simone and grabbed her in a bear hug, laughing and crying at the same time. Simone was overcome with emotion and began to cry as well, returning the embrace.

Once everyone recovered Simone motioned to the kneeling figure, “Allow me to introduce you to the architect of our problems, this is Delquan, the leader of the New Nubian Army that you so thoroughly waxed yesterday!

Delquan looked up into the faces of the people surrounding him; a few were smiling with wicked intent, while others glared at him with undisguised malevolence. Delquan thought to himself, “Perhaps it would have been better to die of infection” as he was hauled to his feet and brought behind the barricade to meet his fate.

Chapter 17

Delquan was taken to the hospital, and his wounds were tended to. Between doc Halverson and the local dentist, Kim Steele D.D.S., they were able to save his jawbone, but he lost the majority of his teeth on the left side. Dr. Steele was merciful and provided him with a dose of Novocain to dull his pain, but refused to give him anymore as it wore off. By the time the final stitch was tied off, Delquan knew what real pain was. Doc Halverson removed the flap of skin that was the remainder of his ear and crudely stitched the wound. When they finished,  they knew Delquan wouldn’t win any beauty contests, but he would survive to face justice.

He sat in his cell at the police station and stewed, he couldn’t believe that this was happening! He was the smartest guy in town and yet, through the incompetence of others his plan failed. Now he was going to have to take the rap….it was just bullshit! He sat and thought about what to do next……unfortunately, thanks to the pain and shock he had suffered, nothing came to mind, further frustrating Delquan.

In another part of the station Ben, Grink, Robert, Elaine and Mitch listened to Simone recount the story of her capture and the tricks she used to gain Delquan’s trust.

“Once I woke up I met Delquan, he was the typical pimp motherfucker that I have to deal with on the road as a Deputy. Usually they’re convinced of their own greatness, so it’s easy to fool them by being a little submissive. I convinced him that I was unwelcome in the town and was trying to hit the road when his men captured me. All I had to do was pretend to be a willing convert to his way of thinking, and the rest was easy. I told him that the town feared the coming battle and wanted to negotiate. I then led him to the barricade I knew was mined, and the rest is bloody history!”

Elaine approached Simone and placed a hand on her shoulder, “Simone you have done this town a great service, by catching Delquan the town can rest easily.”

“Rest assured, this Delquan character will be dealt with according to the law, we’ll not have lynch mob, he’ll get a trial although I think it might be a bit hard to find an impartial jury.”

Elaine looked at each of us, “Let’s talk about what your plans are now that the town is safe.”

Mitch was first to speak, “Ma’am; I would like to stay, I think I have a lot to offer the town, and if you’ll  have me I’m at your service.”

“Mitch you’re most welcome, I’m sure that the town will welcome you with open arms.”

Elaine then turned to Robert, “What about you, will you stay with us? We could use a man like you on the Department.”

“It’s a tempting offer, but I have some business to attend to in Whitewater, so I must move on.”

Simone piped up,  “Sorry Elaine, but I got to be moving on as well, I got some people to look after in Waukesha.”

“I understand Simone, I wish you luck.”

“Grink, could you take everybody outside and make arrangements to re-supply them with what they need.”

“Come on folks, let’s get you supplied.” My compatriots filed out behind Grink.

As I rose to join them, Elaine said, “Ben, say a moment, will you?”

I sat back down in my chair and looked at the woman who had quickly made her way into my heart, how could I tell her that I was leaving too? I had an obligation to Robert and Simone, not to mention a stockpile of valuable supplies that could increase our chances of survival over the long term.

I swallowed hard, “Elaine, I have to go too. Robert and Simone need me to get them home. I promised them that I would, and I’m not breaking that promise.”

Elaine looked stricken; she sat in her chair across from me put her hands into her lap, “I hate to be selfish at a time like this Ben, but what about me…..what about us?”

I got up from my chair and made my way toward her; she stood, and we embraced, I kissed her neck, “Elaine, just because I’m leaving now, doesn’t mean I’m not coming back…..did you think I was just going to up and leave you?  I’ve got a large amount of stuff stored up that could help the town, including food, medicine, weapons and ammunition. Make no mistake, we’re going to experience attacks again, and the next time they might be more organized and better armed.”

Elaine broke the embrace and turned away from me, “Ben, I can’t lose you, don’t risk your life for a small amount of stuff. Let it rot, we don’t need it, but I need you!” She buried her head in her hands and went into her private washroom, slamming the door behind her.  I left her office and caught up with Grink and my crew to get outfitted, tomorrow or the next day we were back on our bikes and gone.

I spent the rest of the day selecting gear to put on my bike and in my pack. It was going to be two wheels from now on, so I wanted to be careful about weight. As I packed, I mused about what I was going to do about Elaine. Truth was; I didn’t want to leave either, but the thought of all of my careful preps being taken by the undeserving jerkbags that didn’t take steps like me was galling. Besides, I would much rather use my supplies to help my new friends.

I decided to take a break and walked outside. As I soaked up the warm August sun, I spied Mitch re-packing one of the things. I strolled over to him, “So, are they taking care of you?”

“Yeah, they gave me the garage in town for living quarters. It has a fully equipped shop and a small building attached to the back with a nice shower, kitchen and a nice bedroom. It fits me to a T, Rommel, and I will be happy there, so don’t worry.”

“Mitch, I don’t want to leave either, but I got a ton of supplies cached just outside of Milwaukee in a warehouse. It is in a relatively deserted area, so I figure that if we move quickly enough, we could sneak in, sneak out, and be well supplied for winter.”

Mitch rubbed his chin and said, “How much and what kind of things do you have Ben? You should probably make a list so we can determine what we need, and if it is worth going after.”

For the next hour, I gave Mitch the lowdown on what I had. By the end of the list Mitch was saying, “Yeah, we got to go for it, the stuff you have might make a difference whether we make it through the winter here or not.”

“Mitch, I have a plan to get the stuff but I want you to hear it, see where the holes are and come up with solutions for the inevitable problems we are going to encounter.”

We found a quiet place, and I ran it down for him. My plan was to approach from the west out of Waukesha using the roads to get to New Berlin, where my stuff waited in storage at a friend’s warehouse.  I figured I had about 6,000 pounds of stuff, so we would need a big pickup or small cube truck to get it all.  Mitch said that he was confident that he could find a truck that would meet our needs and get it running. After about four hours of kicking the plan around,  the sun was sinking below the horizon, and we had come up with the best version of the plan we could think of. I was to bird dog the route the truck could take and report back on my portable HAM radio each night. Mitch and his crew would map the route. Once I arrived at my cache, I would prepare it for transport and give the go signal. The truck would leave Cambridge as night fell and arrive in New Berlin by morning. We would rest a bit in the warehouse and load the truck in the afternoon. When the sun set, we would leave on our return trip to Cambridge. If all went well, the truck would return about 24 hours later, and the town would add a substantial amount of supplies in their stockpile. If the plan worked for us, we would use it as a template to get Mitch’s stuff as well on another date, increasing our supplies further.

Mitch said, “Now all we have to do is sell it to Elaine, after all, she is probably going to have the final say whether we get the necessary equipment and men we need to be successful.

“You got that right Mitch. Let me head over to the Police station now and lay the groundwork, come over with Grink in about half an hour after you brief him.”

“Ok brother, see you then.”

I agreed and made my way back to the Police station to try to convince her to agree to my plan. When I got to the police station, I saw Cook standing at the front door on guard duty. He smiled and waved at me as I approached, “Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Not too bad, is the chief in?”

“Nope, she left for home about an hour ago, and she looked pretty pissed.”

I frowned at hearing that Elaine was probably still mad at me, “Thanks Cook; I’ll catch her at home. Just to keep you in the loop, Grink and Mitch will come over here later…Tell them I’ll see them tomorrow.”

“Will do Ben.”

I walked down the stairs toward Elaine’s house.

As I approached the house, I could see that the door was open to get a breeze through. I knocked on the screen door and heard Elaine call out, “Who is it?”

“It’s me Ben.”

Elaine emerged out of the darkness dressed in an oversize T-SHIRT shirt and shorts, “What do you want Ben?”

“Can I come in?”

Elaine stepped aside and opened the door. I entered, and she led me to the kitchen where we sat down. There was a bottle of Maker’s Mark at the center of the table, and she motioned to it, “Drink?”

“Sure, let me get it.” I poured a good amount into our glasses, and she raised hers to mine. A faint clink resonated through the kitchen, and she took a large swallow.

I looked her in the eyes, “Elaine, we have to talk about this. I made a promise to Simone and Robert to get them home. I simply can’t back out. What kind of person would I be if I reneged on my friends?”

Tears began to flow, “You would be alive Ben, alive with me in this town!” She looked away and sniffed.

I grabbed her hands and kissed them, “Darling, I would be alive, but I would hate myself for it. That hate would grow and eventually get directed at you. You are too important to me for that to happen; that’s why I got to go and finish this.”

“Ben, I can’t lose you out there. It’s getting worse and worse…wait until Winter turns to Spring, then go get your stuff…it can wait.”

“No, it can’t. We need that stuff now. I have tons of supplies that this town needs to make it through winter. With Mitch helping on this end and your support, I can be back inside of two weeks, and we will be much more secure over the winter I promise.”

“No, you can’t promise…you can get killed out there and I would never hear from you again!”

“Elaine, I love you. I want nothing more than to spend what remaining days I have with you, but I have an obligation to my friends and this town to ensure its survival. Those supplies will ensure that we have the best chance to make it through this winter. I need you to support me on this. Without your help, I know I can’t make this happen. Please help me help all of us!”

Elaine dropped her head to the kitchen table, “Ok Ben, I’ll help, but you better come back to me, or there will be Hell to pay!” She sat in my lap and kissed me hard on the lips.

“Now take me to bed and be my man tonight!” She led me to her bedroom and pushed me onto the bed, her weight pinning me as her hands began to remove my clothes.

“We made love with an intensity that shook the house to the foundation. As she parted from me, her wild energy spent, she snuggled to my shoulder and said dreamily, “My sweet Ben…please come back to me.” She then drifted off to sleep. I lingered for a moment before falling asleep beside her.

Chapter 18

Morning broke over Cambridge, and I walked with Elaine to the Police station. Our bikes were stored there, loaded and ready to go.  I went to check on final preparations, and Elaine went to her office and called for Myron Schenk over the PA system. Myron arrived and knocked on the closed door and was greeted by a gruff “Enter!”

Myron entered the office and approached Elaine’s desk, “You called for me Ma’am?”

“Yes, Myron, who do you know in Palmyra and Eagle through your HAM friends?”

“Several people ma’am, do you need a message passed?”

“That I do. I want you to contact the authorities there and let them know that Simone and Ben are coming through and to give them safe passage. If they want to speak to me directly, I’ll do so. Try to get them to let them by for free, any negotiation for tolls should be left to me…is that clear?”

“Yes ma’am, when do you want this done?”

“Right away. Our friends are leaving today for a brief time, but they will be returning within two weeks, we need to make their passage as easy as possible.”

“I’ll get on it right now!” Myron turned on his heel and sped out of Elaine’s office.

Within an hour, Elaine had spoken to the town authorities in both Eagle and Palmyra. They agreed to let Ben and Simone pass through without difficulty. She also arranged for the improvised vehicle to pass through when the time came, as long as Mitch could provide them with the technical expertise to build more. The deal struck with the other towns; Elaine returned to her office and quietly shut the door.

Simone, Robert and me were working on our bikes in the police garage, I had my bike up on a repair rack donated by a local bike shop ensuring that everything was working properly. I cleaned my chain and lubed it, and made sure that the shifters and brakes were properly adjusted. One of the mechanics from the bike shop, a modern hippie named Dean was helping tune up Simone and Robert’s bikes.

Dean was the sort of guy you would find in any bike shop.  He always had a dreamy, detached look on his face and easy manner, but when you put a bike in front of him, he was all business. His hands moved efficiently, and he expertly tuned both bikes within an hour. He also made some modifications to Simone’s bike to accommodate her height.

Simone test rode her fully loaded bike and smiled broadly, “Man, its like this bike was custom made for me, thanks Dean!”

Dean beamed, “All I did was raise the stem and but on a better female-specific seat, you should be totally free of back pain now, as well as taint pain.”

“Taint pain?”

“The spot that ain’t your hoo-ha and ain’t your butthole….your taint.” Dean snickered.

“Well, both me and my taint thank you Dean.” Simone dismounted and pissed Dean on the cheek.

Dean blushed as red as a white guy could get, “Anytime my Nubian princess, anytime.”

Dean looked at his watch, “I got to split, the store needs opening.” He packed his tools and made his way towards the garage door.

I walked with Dean to the entrance, “You know Dean; you’re going to be a pretty important fellow in town now. With your knowledge of bicycle repair, your skills are going to be in demand for lots of small projects. I suggest you get with Mitch and see what you can do.”

Mitch scratched his soul patch, “I’ll do that man…when you come back we could always use another wrench at the shop, I think you’ll fit in real good Ben.”

“I’ll take it under advisement, thanks for helping out this morning.”

“My pleasure dude.” Dean made his way down the driveway and towards Main Street where his bike shop waited.

After a final check to make sure we had everything, we were finally ready to roll. We all decided that being inconspicuous would no longer pay the dividends they did in the first days of the event, so we all dressed like we were going to war. I had my combat rig with pistol belt on, rifle slung across my back and eight magazines attached to my vest. I wore my full-fingered, knuckle protecting gloves and my Kevlar vest under my combat rig. Simone was similarly attired, carrying a captured rifle from Delquan’s army. Robert also carried a captured rifle and a donated desert tan combat rig from a citizen in town. Everything about us, from our garb to our attitude us said LEAVE US ALONE in big neon letters, we sincerely hoped that people would leave us alone as we traveled, but saw no reason to give the impression that we were potential victims. I was amazed how much society failed inside of ten days without electric power or modern conveniences. I suspected it to get much worse as time wore on, giving me a great sense of urgency in regard to my current mission.

Elaine, Grink, and Mitch were present to send us off. After a round of handshakes and hugs, Robert and Simone lined up next to each other, ready to leave. Elaine and I were slightly off to the side saying a private goodbye.
              “Take care of yourself out there Ben, please come back to me.” A tear dropped from Elaine’s eye.

“I will. Before you know it, I’ll be back with my supplies, and we will plan for the winter, I promise.”

Elaine kissed me on the lips, “Now go, before I change my mind!” She retreated to Grink’s side and looked at us with great sadness.

We all rode out of town on U.S. 12, headed for Wisconsin 26. As we left the barricade, Robert said, “On to Whitewater and home!”

He was clearly excited to be on his way again, Simone looked similarly pumped to be back on the road toward home. We settled into a relatively fast pace, about 12 MPH with our loaded bikes. I estimated that we would reach Whitewater by nightfall barring any unforeseen circumstances. I hoped that we would be unmolested as we traveled, but I could feel Mr. Murphy creeping alongside us as we rode.

Chapter 19

Elaine watched her lover leave the confines of the town with a sinking heart. She was very worried that she would never see Ben again, but a spark of hope remained that he would return. She said to herself,“Now back to being Police Chief of this berg.”

She made her way to her office and summoned Grink.  He arrived a few minutes later, “You wanted to see me ma’am?

“Yes. Grink, I need a second in command, and I want you to fill that position. You have done nothing but sterling service since you’ve worked for me, and you proved more than capable of protecting the town. I need a man like you to act as my liaison with the other town departments as well as the rest of the staff. What do you think?

Surprise took Grink, whose full name was Virgil Xerxes Grinker. He was just doing his duty over the past few days; he wasn’t special, nor did he think he was leader  material. He was just an ordinary small town cop.

“Why me? Ben is coming back; he would be a great right hand man. Even Simone would be better than me; they both have big city experience.”

Elaine cut him off, “But you know everyone in town Virgil, and the town residents know you. They will be much more willing to abide by any decisions you make as my second in command. I need an answer now Grink, we must get some structure established.

Grink knew he was on the spot, “Well ma’am, I’ll do it. But when Ben comes back, please consider him, I think he would be better at it.

“Noted. Your new title is Colonel, and you’re responsible for the good order and discipline for the remaining officers and militia we will be building in the immediate future. For now, I want you to gather the names of 100 able-bodied men to form the backbone of the militia.”

“I’ll get on it right away ma’am.” He got up to leave. His shoulders heavy with new responsibilities.

“One last thing Grink, could you find Cook and send him up to me? We need to talk about our guests downstairs. “

“Yes ma’am.”

Grink left the office and went to the lower level of the building to the cells.  He found Cook behind his desk reviewing the prior evening’s cellblock checks. Grink thought Cook was a good man. He took his duties seriously and took very good care of any prisoners they had. He was polite but firm and was a perfect fit for head jailor.

“Hey Cook, the Chief wants to see you about our guests.”

“Ok, let me get Kessel to take over.” He went into the other room to get John Kessel, the newest hire to the department.

Grink rolled his eyes; he didn’t like Kessel. He was from Beloit and never adjusted to  small town policing. He was rude to just about everybody and often acted in a rather capricious manner when it came to dealing with problems, favoring emotion based decisions overrule based ones. He got written up a few times for his actions and banished to the assistant jailor’s position because of his behavior on the street. So far, he has behaved himself, but Grink knew that it wouldn’t last.

Kessel came out of his office, “Hey Grinker, Cook sent me out here to look after our prisoners while he went to kiss the feet of the mistress.”

Grinker whirled to face Kessel, “Look Officer; that’s Chief Krusk to you! If I had my way, I’d fire you for that comment. Now do your job and take care of our prisoners!”

Grinker left the basement angry at himself for letting Kessel get under his skin like that. Once he got outside he cooled down a bit and threw himself into the task that the Chief gave him, gathering a Militia.

Kessel smiled at Grinker’s retreating form….it was so easy to piss people off around here. The best part is that they couldn’t do anything to him about it. They way he had it figured, they needed cops in town so they wouldn’t just fire somebody for bending a few rules or upsetting the cool kids upstairs. He went into the cellblock to check on his prisoners, the bitch and the nigger. He looked in the first cell, the one that contained the black guy. He was sitting with his back against the wall glaring out the small window of the cell door. Kessel glared back and then gave him the finger. That solicited a muffled “Fuck you” from the cell. He then went to the woman’s cell and unlocked the door. He loved entering the cell and intimidating the woman for fun. He entered the cell and stood over Mary, “Hi bitch, how’s it going for you today?”

Mary glared at Kessel, “About as good as it’s going to get fuck head, how about for you?”

Kessel smiled a sick smile, “Well, you know, a little of this and a little of that, but at least I’m not getting hung within the week!”

Mary had tolerated the treatment handed out by Kessel because she had no choice, but could take no more. She had made a thin but strong garrote out of a thin piece of cloth while she was rotting away in the cell, and if this prick gave her the chance she was going to use it.

Kessel continued his hostile banter, “Well bitch; I would love to sit here and chat all day about how we’re going to execute you, but I have bigger fish to fry, ta ta!” He turned his back on her, like he did every day.

Mary sprung up and looped the cord around Kessel’s neck and tightened it with all her strength. Kessel didn’t realize anything was amiss until he felt the cord dig into his flesh across his Adam’s apple.

Kessel could only let out a high-pitched bleat as the cord dug in and strangled the life from him. He tried to elbow Mary and shake her off, but her position behind his back prevented it from happening.  Kessel began to lose consciousness and toppled to his hands and knees. Mary poured it on and tightened the cord further, landing on Kessel’s back. Kessel’s struggles began to weaken and finally ended. Mary kept the cord tight for another 30 seconds to ensure that her tormentor was indeed dead, and then left her cell and freed Delquan.

They wasted no time. Mary locked Kessel in her cell and closed the door to Delquan’s  as not to alert their captors of their escape and fled out of the walk out basement door and into the surrounding neighborhood to hide and plan their escape from town. They ran like the devil himself was after them and found a vacant house with a “For Sale” sign in front of it. Delquan kicked the back basement door in, and they entered the residence. The house was still furnished but gave off an unoccupied vibe. They retreated to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

Mary looked at Delquan and his wounds, “Oh, my poor man….what have they done to you?”

Delquan had healed up to the point where he could sufficiently move his mouth to speak, “I was shot in the battle and captured……unfortunately, the army is destroyed, and we are the only ones left my love.”

Mary began to weep, “Then it’s over! The cops are going to find us and kill us in this little podunk town. We’re fucking doomed!”

Delquan slapped Mary hard, “We still have a chance bitch! All we got to do is hide until the sun goes down and then get the fuck out of dodge! Let’s look around here and gather some supplies, and then rest for a bit. It will take them a long time to find us if they have to go house to house.”

Mary was breathing hard, “Ok Delquan, whatever you say. I’ll fix the door in the basement and search down there for some backpacks or something. You look upstairs and gather food and medical stuff and some new clothes. Hopefully, our luck will hold out, and we can get out of this hellhole!”

Mary made her way into the basement. She looked over the door they kicked in and found very little damage. She tried to close it and surprisingly, it latched shut. She locked it and then began to search the basement in a methodical manner. The amount of stuff the average person had constantly amazed her. There was a treasure trove of camping equipment in the basement. She found backpacks, a tent, some sleeping bags and a host of lightweight backpacking stuff. She found a compact stove, cups and plates, matches, candles, and a lantern . She found a small shovel and the stakes for the tent as well.  She set aside the supplies and continued her search. In the far corner of the basement, she found a large stand up safe with a combination lock. Curiosity took hold of her, and she began to search the immediate area for the combination. She didn’t have to look far, scrawled on the right upper corner of the safe were the numbers 10-36-10-52. She fiddled with the combination lock, turning the dial in accordance with the numbers on the safe. She grabbed the handle and pulled, and the safe opened. Inside the safe were a large selection of handguns and rifles with a supply of ammunition for each stacked neatly on the floor of the safe. Mary could barely contain her glee…..Delquan would be so pleased! She scurried up the stairs to let her man know of her find.

Delquan was meeting with similar success. He found a large amount of canned food in the pantry off of the kitchen as well as a well-stocked liquor cabinet. He reached in the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Hennessy and drank deeply. He didn’t mind the sting the alcohol brought from his healing mouth and let the lovely liquid pleasure slide down his throat. He found a ton of painkillers in the medicine cabinet, including 120 20mg Oxycontin pills as well as some Xanax and a full bottle of Vicodin.  He popped an oxy and washed it down with some Hennessy. He collected all of the pills as well as some basic medical supplies and brought them into the bedroom.

Mary re-entered the bedroom, “Delquan, I found a ton of guns in the basement! I also found lots of camping stuff!”

“Excellent Mary! Bring the camping stuff up, I’ll go look at the guns.”

They both made their way into the basement. While Mary gathered up the camping equipment, Delquan sauntered over to the guns and looked over the collection. He took the AR-15 out of its cradle and the magazines on the bottom of the vault. He also selected a Ruger Vaquero in .44 Magnum along with a holster. For Mary, he selected a large frame 9mm handgun. He looked at the side and saw the words hi-point stamped on the slide. It was an ungainly pistol, but it would have to do since there was nothing else she could handle. Delquan shut the vault and spun the dial, no reason to give their pursuers a trail to follow, and made his way back up into the bedroom with Mary in tow.

Next, they raided the closets for spare clothing. Mary found some pants and a pair of sturdy hiking boots and a button down shirt to replace her cotton print dress she was wearing. Delquan found a couple of shirts, and a pair of sneakers to replace the ones that were taken from him during his stay in jail.

After packing the bags and setting them in the corner for quick access in case they needed to escape, Delquan and Mary lay in the bed and slept, waiting for sunset and a chance to escape.

Twenty minutes after Kessel was killed by Mary, Cook returned from the chief’s office.

“Kessel!?......Where the fuck are you? Cook looked around for his lazy counterpart. He usually found him in the can with a skin magazine, but when he didn’t find him there, he began to get concerned. He entered the cellblock and looked in Delquan’s cell. Instead of a large brooding black man, he found nothing. He rushed over to Mary’s cell and found Kessel face down in a pool of blood. Cook ran to the panic alarm and broke the glass. A shrill klaxon reverberated through the building bringing the 4 on-duty police in the building into the cellblock. The chief came down in short order and saw Kessel.

“Ah, shit! Cook, where could they have the gone in such a short time?”

“I think that the headed out the basement door and from there it’s anybody’s guess. If I were running, I wouldn’t do it in the daytime, that flower child and a big black guy would stick out like a sore thumb in town. I would go to ground fast, possibly in a vacant house if I were them.”

“That sounds like a good place to start. Each of you, pick a point of the compass and search that side of town with 5 additional men. Begin to search all the vacant houses in town. I want everybody armed.  Remember these fugitives have everything to lose if we catch them so they’ll  be very dangerous. All right, let’s get to it!

Elaine sent a runner to find Grink and apprise him of the developing situation, and gather additional men for the search. She then returned to her office and issued radios and a dispatcher activated to facilitate communication between the groups. She prayed that the escapees get caught before they could cause any more damage. “Dammit Ben, why did you have to leave now!” she thought to herself as she rocked back in her chair.

Chapter 20

Simone, Robert and I were making good time down U.S. 12. Although there were a few cars stalled and abandoned in the middle of the road, they were few and far between, giving a would-be ambusher very little cover for an attack. We were riding like a well oiled machine, Robert in the lead, Simone in the middle and me in the rear. We trucked along at about 12 mph, Whitewater coming closer with each pedal revolution. At the intersection of U.S. 12 and Wisconsin 26, there were several cars piled up in what appeared to be a large traffic accident, more than likely caused by the EMP.

I pumped my brakes and said, “Slow down everybody, stop in 20 feet!”

My friends started to slow down and pull to the side of the road. We lined up our bikes and dismounted. I un-slung my rifle…something wasn’t right. I whispered to Simone and Robert, “Be careful, my Spidey sense is tingling.” To emphasize my point I clicked off the safety of my rifle, my compatriots followed my example. We approached the pileup in a skirmish line. I motioned my friends to come down the left side of the wreck so we could get a flanking view of the carnage. As I passed a burned out hulk of a station wagon, I heard a voice yell “GET ‘EM!”

              Six men and women in their 20’s boiled out of the woods armed with axes, machetes, and one shotgun and attempted to flank us. Simone and Robert took cover behind the station wagon, and I found myself exposed to the attackers.

I aimed my rifle and shouted, “Stay back!”

Three of the group went for Robert and Simone and the other three, including the man armed with the shotgun made for me. I began firing, my first shots struck the man with the shotgun, killing him instantly. Simone began firing and took out two of her three attackers in quick succession. Robert hesitated, and was bowled over by the final attacker. Robert and the man struggled on the ground over Robert’s weapon. The man spit and cursed at Robert and attempted to wrest the rifle from Robert’s grip. Simone placed the barrel of her rifle against the man’s temple and pulled the trigger. The man’s head ceased to exist, and his body toppled off of a stunned Robert. The two other attackers facing me seemed frozen in place about ten feet from me, unsure of what to do.

I decided to take the initiative. I shouldered my rifle, pointed it directly at them and yelled, “Drop your weapons, or I’ll kill you!” The two attackers, one man and one woman dropped their weapons and put their hands in the air.

“Now drop to your knees and put your hands on your head!” They complied and looked at me fearfully.

“Simone grab some zip ties from my bag and bring them over here, they’re in the top pocket of my bike bag!”

Simone scrambled back to my bike and removed some zip ties and raced back to me.

“Now go over and secure their hands. If any of you try to resist, I’ll shoot you!”

Simone expertly zip tied their wrists and pushed them face first into the ground, each person making an “Oof” sound as they hit the ground.

“Now go help Robert up, we got some prisoners to talk to.” Simone helped Robert from the ground, and they made their way over to my side.

I slung my rifle and walked to the prisoners. The female prisoner said, “Don’t kill us!”

We picked up the prisoners and marched them to the center of the road, sitting them on the double yellow line.

I unholstered my pistol and pointed it at them, “Ok kids, time for a little Q and A. Why did you attack us?”

The woman began to answer, but the man stopped her with, “Shut up bitch, don't tell them anything!”

I walked over to the man and backhanded him hard across the face with my carbon fiber knuckles, drawing a line of blood from his lips, “You were saying ma’am?”

The woman continued, “We were on our way to Alpine Valley when our car stopped. We got to the side of the road just as these other cars started hitting each other. A couple of people died, and after a few hours with no help arriving people just wandered off one by one. We had nowhere to go, so we decided to stay by the road and wait for help. We figured the Red Cross or FEMA would eventually show up and help us out. After a few days, our food ran out and Jimmy, the guy you killed, started robbing people who passed. It was working good until you guys showed up.”

I frowned, “I see. Where do you guys live?”

“All the way up in Eau Claire. That’s going to be a long walk for us.”

“Well, things are tough all over baby! We should kill you for what you tried to do to us, but luckily for you, I’m done with killing for today. My friends and I are leaving. If you try to follow us or hurt us again, I will shoot you down like the dogs you have become…..is that clear?”

I went over to Jimmy’s body and picked up the shotgun. It was a Remington 870 pump in pretty good condition, no doubt taken from some poor sap walking along the road by these assholes. I walked back to the prisoners and pumped the remaining three rounds out of the magazine and handed the shotgun to Simone, who slung her rifle and held the shotgun at port arms.

“Let’s go folks, we’re burning daylight.” I motioned to Simone and Robert, who fell into line behind me as we walked towards our bikes.

The female yelled at our backs, “What about us you fucker! Are you going to leave us tied up in the middle of the road?”

“Yep, it’s better than you deserve!” I shouted over my shoulder.

We rode past them in silence while they yelled and screamed for help. I couldn’t believe how savage they became after such a short amount of time. I silently hoped that we made it to Whitewater in the next couple of hours so we could have some good rest as guests of Robert.

The rest of the ride passed quickly. We increased the pace up to about 15 mph and saw very little activity on the road. We stopped once to talk to a lone backpacker. His name was Starwolf, and he was walking to his camping spot.

He tipped his hat and said “Greetings fellow travelers, where you headed?”

Robert piped up, “Whitewater, what about you?”

“To my home grounds brother, my home grounds.”

“Anything interesting happening back in Whitewater?”

“I would say so.  The town is emptying out, especially the student body from the University. Most are trying to get to home base before the world totally goes to shit!”

“I see, tell me, are the police still in control, or have they fled to the hills as well?”

Starwolf stroked his Vandyke style beard, “Well, they got a roadblock at the end of Janesville Street right that the edge of school grounds to keep people from squatting at the campus.”

“That’s Good to know Starwolf. Say, you need anything, we’re thankful for the information and would like to give you something for your trouble.”

“I would be very pleased to accept some canned food if you can spare some.”

“That we can do.” I produced two cans of sardines and a can of Beefaroni from my bags and handed them over to him.  He placed them in his bag and folded his hands in front of him, “Namaste brother.”

We warned him about the robbers at the intersection of U.S 12 and WI 26, and he said he was close to his retreat and would avoid it. We watched Starwolf fade into the distance, and we mounted our bikes to ride into Whitewater.

Robert took the lead because he was in his home territory, and shortly we were stopping at the roadblock Starwolf told us about.  Our weapons were slung, and we kept our hands away from our sides as we approached.

Robert stopped and yelled, “Burch, is that you?” to a heavy set woman in a campus security uniform.

A heavyset woman left the roadblock and made her way toward us, “Robert, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, can we come in?”

Burch came closer and looked Simone and I over, “Who are your friends?”

Robert relaxed for the first time since the attack, “These are my friends Ben and Simone. We’ve been together since the event about ten days ago.”

“I see, how is it out there?”

“Let me tell you Burch, you don’t want to be out there….people are killing each other for a can of food or a bottle of water!”

She nodded, “Well, you’re safe now. We have food and shelter here for people like you. Robert goes see Gino at the Security office; he’ll get you squared away.”

“Ok Burch, thanks for taking care of us.”

“No problem, good to have you back Robert, we need all the help we can get!”

We rode down the street into the main campus. Robert led the way to the security office and parked his bike next to a bike rack.

“Well, we’re here, you want to come in and meet Gino? He’s the Chief of Operations for security.

Simone dismounted her bike and stood it on the kickstand, “I’ll stay here and watch over our stuff, Ben go check in with this guy. Simone began to do some deep knee bends to limber up after the long ride.

Robert and I made our way into the lit building. It was strange to see electric lights after such a long time without them. We approached a door that had a nameplate that said, “Casselli” on it.

Robert knocked at the door, and we heard a muffled, “Enter.”

Robert opened the door, and I followed him into the room. In a pool of light coming from a 40-watt bulb, sat a mountain of a man. The tip of a stinky cigar glowed as he took a drag. Casselli’s hooded eyes looked us up and down, appraising us. He looked like a mafia enforcer with a name like Jimmy the fish or Bobby the eye.  He shifted his bulk and rose from his chair and rounded his desk. He approached Robert and grabbed him up in a bear hug, “Bobby boy! It’s fucking great to see you! I didn’t think I would ever see you again!”

Robert could only swing in the powerful man’s grip and say, “Yeah, I’m back. What’s going on Gino?”

Gino Dropped Robert back to the floor, “Man Robert, it’s been Hell here. We had a mass exodus of both staff and students over the first week. We lost eighty percent of our staff in the first few days; they just slipped away while on duty. They took all of their shit with them as well. We’re missing; radios, guns, uniforms….you name it.  I figure we’ll be defunct by next week if it keeps going like this. By the way…I have no idea when you’re getting paid next.” Gino chuckled at his own joke.

Robert laughed along with him, “I don’t think any of us is worried about that under the circumstances Gino.”

“Who’s your friend Robert?” Gino’s eyes flicked in my direction.

“This is Ben. He’s a cop from Milwaukee that got us through the past ten or so days. We got another cop with us too. Her name is Simone, and she is a Deputy in Waukesha. We decided to team up and travel together for protection.

Gino gave me a look, “That true Ben?”

“Yep. Simone and I are just looking for a place to stay tonight. We’re going to head out tomorrow and continue on to Waukesha.”

Gino smiled, “I think we can help you out…but you have to leave your guns and supplies in my office…..we don’t allow any weapons inside the perimeter, unless you’re working for me.”

My suspicions went on alert. Why did he want my weapons and my supplies? Perhaps the Mafia image of him I had wasn’t so far off the mark. I didn’t want to insult Robert or Gino, but there was no way on God’s green earth that I was going to be disarmed and stripped of my supplies by this guy.

I took a breath, “Gino, thanks for the offer, but I’m not giving up my weapons or supplies to you…neither is Simone. If that means we can’t stay, so be it. I got Robert home, so I consider my obligation fulfilled. Lots of luck to you gentlemen, but I’m hitting the road.

Gino’s eyes narrowed, “What? Our hospitality ain’t good enough for you?

“Not when it has strings attached like that Gino,” I retorted.

Gino moved in closer and poked me in the chest with a sausage-like finger, “It looks like you got some nice stuff here Ben, how ‘bout you share a little with us huh?”

Robert moved in closer and tried to get between us, “Gino….”

“Shut up Robert, the men are talking here. Why don’t you go get Simone and bring her in on the conversation.”

Robert retreated out of the room to get Simone. I couldn’t believe it; this guy went from Mr. Nice Guy to strong arm robber in a heartbeat. I’m sure they were planning on kicking us to the curb once they got our stuff, and were depending on Robert to go along because he was a part of their group. I knew if I continued to debate this guy that I was going to lose.

Gino took a step closer to me, “You’re gonna give up your shit now. If you don’t, I’m gonna make you wish you did!”

In a flash I drew my Glock and rammed it in his crotch, “Gino, I’m going to walk out of here now. If you try to stop me, I’m gonna blow your nuts off.

Gino realized his mistake at trying to corner me. He began to back off.

“No, no, no, Gino don’t’ you move or you’ll be singing Soprano!”

Robert and Simone burst into the office rifles drawn, “You ok Ben?”

I looked up, “A lot better now, help me move this load out of the way!”

Gino sputtered, “You can’t get away with this! There’s no way you’re getting out of here!”

I kicked Gino in the back of his knee, causing him to fall to the floor facedown. “Simone, get my handcuffs out of the top pouch of my bike bag…and bring that roll of duct tape too.”

Simone rushed out of the office to get the stuff, and Robert and I covered Gino with our guns.

Simone returned in a flash with the duct tape and handcuffs and put them on the floor next to Gino.

“Here’s how it’s going to go Gino, We are going to handcuff you and bind your feet with tape. Then we’re going to leave. You try to stop us or alert your troops there will be a gunfight…and your guys are going to lose! Be smart and let us go, and there won’t be any fuss. Fuck with us, and I will kill every one of your people who get in my way. Are we clear?”

Gino looked at me with undisguised hatred, “Yes, I get it you fuck!”

“Good, now put your hands behind your back.” Gino complied, and Simone snapped the cuffs on his wrists. She then bound his ankles and knees with the tape and put a large strip over his mouth.

We then left the office as quietly as possible, leaving Gino in the dark. We gathered our bikes and rode off campus using an unguarded bike path that took us into Whitewater. Robert guided us to the far northeast corner of Whitewater proper, and we decided to camp in East Gate Park. The neighborhood around the park was eerily quiet with houses standing in the dark blacked out and seemingly unoccupied as we silently passed on our bikes. We parked our bikes in some bushes and using a small red filtered light, set up our sleeping mats under a small picnic shelter. Robert volunteered to take the first two hours of guard duty, and Simone and I turned in for some much needed rest.

As Simone and I lay on our mats and contemplated the day, Robert spoke up.

“I’m so sorry guys, I had no idea Gino turned into such an asshole.”

I knew I had to answer my friend, “Water under the bridge Robert. The pressure of the past period has the power to change even the toughest of us. What are your plans now Robert? You’re welcome to come with me to New Berlin; I could use some backup.”

“Thanks for the invite, I’ll take you up on that.”

Simone began to snicker to herself.

“What’s so funny big stuff?” I inquired.

“I noticed that your name was stamped into the swing arm of the handcuffs, looks like you might face some Departmental discipline. Don’t worry I’ll come to your defense!” She then began to laugh heartily.

“Look at it this way, at least I’ll be easy to find.”

We all drifted off to sleep snickering at the absurdity of it all.

Chapter 21

              The search for Mary and Delquan was not going well. Once word got out that those two escaped, most of the town pitched in to help locate the fugitives. Unfortunately, because it was so hard to organize such a large group without modern communications equipment, much of the initial work got duplicated, and some spots escaped any search at all. The house that Delquan and Mary were using for their hideout was one of those places.

As night fell, the pace of the search slowed dramatically. Without many flashlights surviving the event, groups thinned out as people returned to their homes to protect their own. Only a few police officers and members of the embryonic militia stayed to help Grink continue the search of the outlying areas of the town.

Mary and Delquan slept heavy thanks to the adrenaline letdown and alcohol they consumed that afternoon. Mary woke first to find Delaquan snoring lightly, still dead to the world. She went into the bathroom and cleaned herself up and dressed in the stolen clothes she had found in the house. She had a pair of tan pants, sneakers and a pink top. She could easily be mistaken for a resident of the town from far away, but Delquan was another story entirely. A black man with a large bandage on the side of his face would be a dead giveaway so they needed to get out of town as soon as they could. Once finished dressing she went back to the bedroom and woke up her lover.

“Delquan, wake up, it’s dark now.”

Delquan grunted and then slowly rose from the bed, “Huh? Ahhhhhh, ok, ok I’m up.”

He moved to the bathroom, and the sounds of him washing himself up drifted through the closed door.

Delquan looked at his ruined face in the mirror. “Fuck, I look terrible!” He thought to himself.

              He popped another oxy he left in the medicine cabinet and gave himself a triangle bath, getting all of his critical areas a quick wash and dry before he dressed in the new set of clothes Mary laid out for him before they went to sleep.

Once dressed, he knew they had to split before the search party reached them. He knew if they caught them now,  it was certain death. No force on earth would protect them from the town after Mary murdered a cop. He also knew their death  wouldn’t be pleasant. After the description of the torture Mary experienced at that motherfucker Ben’s hands, Delquan was sure they would get much more imaginative if they got caught. He also knew if they were able to escape; the town probably didn’t have the resources to pursue them, and would more than likely leave them be.

Delquan faced Mary, “Time to go baby girl, let’s bounce!”

Delquan and Mary peered outside of the front window of the house at the ground floor. He decided to leave the basement door blocked, giving them the impression that they might still be in the house. The coast appeared to be clear, so they headed down the street and into the park at the end of the residential area. The spent some time in the park listening for any pursuit and after about 30 minutes, decided to continue on out of town via route 12.

As they walked, Delquan peppered Mary with questions regarding his army’s failure to take the town.

“Did you know that the had made landmines to destroy our compatriots?”

“No Delquan, I was locked up in that cell with that sicko Ben asking me questions. I did get a look around town at some of their preparations, but I had no idea they were that inventive. I thought you would roll in and save me with little difficulty.”

“Well, because of your capture, our dream of a Nubian kingdom stretching across this wasted land is now impossible! We can only hope to survive the winter once we reach Milwaukee.”

The comment stung Mary. He was trying to blame his failure on her…typical man!

“Delquan, you forget that we still have each other. With that, we still have a chance!”

Delquan sniffed, “I suppose so, Let’s keep going southwest….I don’t think they have any presence this far away from the town.”

They quickened their pace along the moonlit road, sticking to the shoulder in case they had to hide from a roving patrol. As they got farther from Cambridge, Delquan and Mary began to relax….they began to believe that they had escaped and now could devote their energies to getting to Milwaukee and surviving the rapidly approaching winter.

As they were approaching the intersection of highway 12 and Cedar Road, a voice called out,

“Maury, Bill, is that you?”

              Delquan and Mary froze; they couldn’t see where the voice came from but knew that they were visible enough to be mistaken for “Maury” and “Bill”. They decided to fake it and see if they could get by.

              “Sure is, what’s happening”

              “Well, get down here and relieve me, I want to get to bed!”

              Delquan and Mary approached the voice, hoping that they could surprise the person and overwhelm him, but they couldn’t pinpoint where exactly the voice was.

              James Peterson saw the two figures approach. He wanted nothing more than to get back to town for a hot meal and a bed. He secretly hoped that they would take down this listening post soon so they could get back to normal. He stood up from his chair and looked through the vision slit on the deer hide concealed within the branches of a large Oak tree  and looked over  the approaching figures. He immediately realized that the two figures coming towards the hide were not Maury and Bill.

He unslung his AK-74 and shouted, “Hold it right there! Put your hands up!” He keyed the radio, “Cedar to command post, I got intruders!”

              Delquan drew his pistol and pointed in the general direction of the voice. He pulled the trigger on the massive pistol expecting an unholy BOOM, but nothing happened. What Delquan failed to realize was that the Ruger Vaquero is a single action revolver. He didn’t know he had to thumb the hammer back in order to fire it.

              “Shit!” Delquan began to fiddle around with the pistol trying to get it to work.

              Mary drew a bead on the voice and squeezed off a shot. The pistol, being a cheaply made and poorly designed thug gun promptly stove-piped, rendering it momentarily useless. Mary, stared helplessly at her weapon and stood rooted to the spot, not knowing how to clear the malfunction.

The bullet Mary fired whizzed by James harmlessly. He pointed his rifle and clicked the selector down to auto. James was a gun enthusiast, and had illegally converted his rifle to full auto after the EMP hit. He figured that the BATFE was no longer in the game, so what the hell. Two five round bursts raked both Mary and Delquan mercilessly. The steel-cored armor piercing rounds didn’t even slow down as they traveled through them, shattering bone and destroying organs. The rounds then ricocheted off of the pavement as they  finished their grisly work. James raked the two prostrate bodies with an additional five rounds each. He then climbed down from the hide, walked out to where the two bodies lay and delivered one round each to the heads of the intruders. He recognized the man as the leader of the group that tried to attack the town, and the woman as the one that killed Miss Waller.  For good measure, he spat a wad of tobacco juice in the faces of Delquan and Mary, “That’s for attacking my town and killing my friends you assholes!”

A few minutes later, one of the cars that those strangers brought into town pulled up, and the guy named Mitch and Chief Krusk got out. Mitch handed her a flashlight and shone the beam over the two bullet-riddled bodies, “That’s them Mitch. I wonder how they got so far out of town without being detected?”

Mitch spat on the ground, “Well Elaine, we were concentrating our search in the town….we never anticipated the possibility that they would slip the net.”

“I suppose you’re right. James roll these fuckers in the ditch; we’ll bury them tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am.”

James’s relief arrived, and they threw the bodies into a ditch at the side of the road. In the morning, the crew came out, dug a hole, covered them with a layer of lime and buried them. In the years to come, the burial plot disappeared under a thicket of brush, totally erasing the memory of Delquan and Mary, a fitting end to a pair of criminals.

Chapter 22

I took over the watch over from Simone at 4:00am. As she collapsed onto her sleeping mat, I found a good hiding place within view of the camp and settled in for what I hoped to be a boring watch. I heated up a cup of coffee as Simone was finishing watch to keep me company and was enjoying my small pleasure as I sat and watched over my sleeping friends. As I watched, I contemplated just how far humanity had fallen in such a short time. We had met wanna-be Kings, dictators, and a true communist for good measure. The fact that people were aware that something like this could happen and still not prepare for it boggled my mind.

As I mused on the current state of Mankind, dawn slowly crept in, bringing us a new day. I walked over to my pack and removed the HAM radio that was given to me and checked in with Cambridge.

“Charlie one, this is Bravo two….how’s my signal?”

Mitch answered, “Five by five brother….how goes the survey?”

“Just as we thought, but at waypoint one there is a big wreck and some possible bandits waiting for the unprepared. Loop around waypoint two…We got ourselves a bandit king there who will not grant you safe passage. We’re headed out to waypoint three today; I’ll fill you in at 6pm tonight.”

“Copy that Bravo one.”

“The package will accompany us to waypoint four if not the entire journey. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Copy that, see you at six!”

“Copy, out.”

We decided to use a little code to conceal out movements from anybody who might be listening. The possibility existed that some pretty sophisticated sets survived the event, so it was best to be cautious.  Simone and Robert stirred in their bedrolls, and I got a small fire ready to heat up some oatmeal for us all. As I prepared the oatmeal, I watched Robert move off into the bushes to greet the morning as only a man could. Simone packed her bedroll and got to work on Robert’s, making the breaking of camp all the easier. As Simone packed her bike, Robert wandered into the clearing walking stiffly.

I glanced at him curiously, “Hey Robert, are you a bit stiff from sleeping?”

“No, I just thought I would need to walk the dog is all.” He remained rooted to the spot with his eyes boring into me. Something was wrong, and I began to get the feeling that we were suddenly not alone in our little park. I squinted into the woods behind Robert as a voice barked out, “Come out into the clearing where we can see all of you with your hands up. We have your friend covered with a rifle, any funny stuff and he dies where he stands!”

I stood up from the cook fire and took my hands away from my body, “Hey if this is your place, we’ll move on….we don’t want any trouble!”

“Just do what we say and nobody gets hurt….got it.”

“Ok, just don’t hurt our friend, we’ll do what you want!”

I looked over to my left where Simone was packing and didn’t see her. Hopefully, I thought to myself, she got to the tree line undetected with one of our rifles. Just as I was thinking these thoughts, a group of three men emerged from the woods. They carried SKS rifles, and one had a pistol. The wore leather vests and dirty jeans….all but fitting the bill of the zombie bikers I had hoped we would avoid in our travels. They were dirty, to say the least, all of them sporting greasy hair, unkempt beards and yellow teeth. They looked like they could knock a buzzard off of a shit wagon with their smell alone, a fact I became intimately aware of as the leader approached me. He grinned an evil grin and looked me up and down like I was some prey.

“Mornin’ boy, I’m Kevin.” He smiled a sick yellow smile as his piggish eyes looked through me.   He gestured to his friends, “These here are my compatriots, Gunther and Dale.” Both gave the slightest of nods, and remained wary of the surroundings. Gunther covered Robert with the barrel of his SKS.

I kept my expression neutral, “Mornin,' what can we do for you fine, upstanding gentlemen today?”

Kevin scratched his substantial belly, “I think you can surrender all of your supplies for starters, and we would love to meet that black lady you’re with for a little care and conversation.” He grinned lecherously.

Killing time had arrived again. I was mad at myself for letting these assholes get the drop on us, but even more frustrated that people like this devolved into savages so quickly. By looking at Kevin it was obvious was an outlaw biker of some, sort……but on the other hand he could have been an accountant for all I knew. I steeled myself for the sudden violence that was to come.

Kevin, clearly believing that he had the advantage preened a bit, “Well, why don’t you call that nigger bitch out her so we can get my fuck on while my boys take stock of what you got.” He hitched his thumbs in his belt and rocked back on his heels secure in his control of the situation.

One of Kevin’s goons, the one named Dale, yelled, “Hey, I want the black bitch first! You got the bitch first last time!”

Kevin turned his head away from me and yelled, “Shut your hole Dale; I’m the leader here! As Kevin turned around to intimidate me a bit more, he noticed I was no longer where he left me. Before his brain could even register that something had gone very wrong with his plan I drew my pistol and delivered  an 180-grain hollow point bullet to his temple, followed by two additional bullets in his neck. Kevin’s head exploded, and he dropped to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut.  Before Kevin fell to the ground, I was moving to deliver some bad news with my pistol to the fool known as Dale.

One thing I’ve noticed in almost 20 years of law enforcement was that it appeared people who carried guns rarely practiced using them. I suspect that most morons in the criminal element thought that the intimidation factor would be enough to gain compliance from their victims. Usually, they were right, and they walked away with the property and sometimes life of their victims. However, the newspapers are full of stories of people who fought back and won because they had the right combination of will and gun handling skills to triumph. The other thing I noticed is that people never practice firing their gun while on the move. Most shooting ranges prohibit such practices thanks to the nanny state that U.S. had become by the time of the event. This silly rule indoctrinates people to stand stock-still and fire their guns from the most stable position. This method will more than likely gain you a neat little hole in the paper target, but will certainly not serve you well in a combat situation. I’ll never forget what one of my instructors told us on the first day of range practice, “Guys that stand still in a gunfight are the first to get shot." I took that to heart during my whole career, and in the situations, I encountered on the street involving guns and other people has proven that little maxim time and again.

Dean was shocked at his friend’s untimely demise at the hands of his chosen victim, and didn’t recover quickly enough to address the new threat closing with him….me.

I lined up my front sight on Dean and let a flurry of rounds go. Five bullets stitched Dean from the center of his chest to the top of his head, which blew off and spun lazily in the air before coming to rest in the grass.  I then searched for the third man and found him running as fast as his legs could carry him back the way he came. Before I could draw a bead on him, I heard a high-pitched wail from the tree line, and saw Gunther sprawl in the dirt, grabbing his crotch. Simone had ambushed him from the woods and kicked him in the nuts. She grabbed Gunther by his hair and dragged him back towards his dead friends yelling, “So, you want to get your fuck on now you bitch, HUH! I’m talking to you boy, what’s it gonna be!” The look on Simone’s face was pure rage and hatred for the scum that tried to rob and kill us. She dumped Gunther at my feet, “Let me kill this piece of shit Ben, he earned it!”

“Wait just a second, we need to talk to this wayward lad first. Zip tie his wrists, and let’s search him; he might have valuable information for us to use.”

Simone was not satisfied, “Naw, I want this motherfucker’s ass NOW!” She produced a large folding knife and flicked open the blade, and made for Gunther’s crotch.

“NO!” I slapped Simone’s hands away, and she glared at me with a look that could melt solid steel.

She took a breath and produced a zip tie from her pocket and threw it at me,  “Go ahead master of interrogation, make this motherfucker talk!” She then stomped away and continued to pack her bike, occasionally glaring back in my direction.

Robert got up off of the ground and brushed his clothing off. He looked at Gunther and delivered a sharp kick to his ribcage, earning yet another satisfying yelp from the prisoner.

I stood over Gunther and shook my head, “You know what I should do, don’t you? I should let Ms. Simone come over here and geld you for what you were about to do us, but I’m going to give you a chance to save your worthless ass. You’re going to tell me what’s happening on the road so I can make some safe travel choices for my group. If you lie to me, and believe me, I will know when you are lying, I will have Simone come over here and cut your penis off. It’s that simple, tell the truth, and we’ll let you go, lie and bleed to death through your ruined dick!”

Gunther’s lower lip began to tremble, “Ok, boss I’ll tell you what you need to know if I can.”

“Good boy!” I picked Gunther off of the grass and sat him down under the awning at a picnic table. I spread the map out in front of him and pointed to our final destination,  “We’re headed to Milwaukee, and I want to know which are the best roads for travel. I assume you have been tooling around the backcountry for the past two weeks or so?”

“Yep, we’ve got some old Panheads. We’ve been all over Southeast Wisconsin from the Illinois Line to Madison to Milwaukee and down to Kenosha. Illinois cut off all traffic on the interstate, and most towns won’t even let you stay overnight, so we’ve been riding and robbing travelers like yourself just to keep alive. We saw your campsite this morning while looking for some firewood and decided to take you out for supplies….looks like that didn’t work so well for the boys, and I huh?”

“It certainly didn’t. Back to the map. What’s the best way into ‘ol Beertown Gunther?”

“I would say this way.” He traced his finger along the route we were taking for the most part while avoiding the city of Waukesha. “Waukesha is full of cops and Militiamen, they shot at us when we tried to get into town.”

“Judging by your appearance Gunther, they were right to shoot at you.”

“Suppose so….but they didn’t even let us approach and explain our business.” He frowned and looked down at the table.”

I looked over at Simone, and she made a cutting motion across her throat and glared at Gunther.  I knew she wanted Gunther dead, and I knew we couldn’t let him go free so he could cause more damage to innocent civilians. I looked in her eyes and nodded; we couldn’t let him go. He would continue raping and killing, and if we let him take his motorcycle, he would be even more dangerous. I nodded at Simone and sat across from Gunther.

“That’s all there is to tell man. So, you going to let me go now? Asked Gunther with hope in his eyes.

I stroked my chin as if in deep thought, “Well, it’s like this Gunther……You are a marauding piece of shit, and we would be remiss in our duties as police officers to let you go. You would only victimize others, and we simply can’t have that. So the short answer is no, we aren’t letting you go. Gunther, you are hereby found guilty of crimes against humanity and are sentenced to die at our hands.”

“What?” It was the last thing Gunther uttered. Simone grabbed him from behind and rammed her knife between his ribs, piercing his heart, and killing the raider instantly. Gunther’s eyes went wide, and he slumped across the picnic table bench.

Simone twisted the knife and removed it from Gunther’s back. She then wiped the bloody blade on his filthy shirt and spat upon his worthless corpse. She then laid him on the ground next to the shelter and went through his pockets for anything of value. Finding nothing, she left him lying in the dirt and came toward me.

“Let’s find his camp and take all of the good shit they have collected. We can use it for trade with the towns we go through.”

“Good idea Simone. Robert, let’s start searching in the direction they came out of the forest from.”

Robert remained where he was with a look of absolute horror on his face, “What the hell Simone! Why did you do that to Gunther?”

Simone glared, “Do you remember that he had a gun on you and wanted to rape me! That son of a bitch got what he deserved, or would you rather that he shot you and had his way with me!”

“No, it’s not that, but both you and Ben have killed without mercy over these past days. Are we protecting ourselves, or do you guys enjoy it?”

Simone exploded. “What the fuck is your problem white boy! All I know is Ben and I pull the weight around here since we started this journey! Ben got us this far without a scratch and saved your ass a few times as well. What have you done? I see a lot of hand-wringing and you getting your ass kicked,  but little action on your part. How ‘bout this, go back to UW-WHITEWATER Whitewater and grovel to Gino to be a part of his gang and spend the rest of your life living in fear……..I’m done with your ass!”

Robert began to speak, but Simone cut him off, “Now you got something to say? Forget it Robert, I can't deal with you any more…get out of my sight!”

I knew I had to repair this breach in our team. It was true that Robert had not done much to ensure our survival or contribute to the well-being of the group, but I still saw value in him and wanted to keep him around. I approached Simone cautiously as she continued to pack her bags, “Simone, let me talk to Robert and try to work something out.”

Simone whirled on me, “You heard what he said?  He thinks that we like killing people! Well, I know I don’t but everything we’ve done has been out of necessity…especially the killing! That white trash motherfucker threatened to rape me, and Robert feels sorry for him!? He and his boys made the conscious decision to rob, rape and kill us, and if it weren't for you and your willingness to protect the group, we would be robbed, raped and dead by now. I had no choice; I had to kill that fucker after he told us what he would do to me if given a chance.  Brother, there are no courts; there is no police; we are on our own and I exercised my right to self-defense when I killed Gunther! Nothing more, nothing less, and if pussy boy over there can’t get his head around it then FUCK HIM! I’m not going to risk my life protecting a guy that won’t do the same for me! All he’ll do is drag us down and fail us when we need him most. I want him gone! Simone then went back to packing her bike for the trip into Palmyra.

I walked over to Robert, who was also packing his bike some distance from Simone. He was looking directly down at his things and muttering. I noticed a tear running down his face, and his hands shaking as he tended to his equipment.

“Robert, we have to talk. What do you say we go and find the biker’s campsite and look it over for anything useful.”

“Yeah, anything to get out from under her stare.” He motioned to Simone, who was sending a stream of daggers Robert’s way.

“Simone, Robert and I and going to find the campsite of our departed friends and loot it for any good stuff!”

Simone looked up from her bag, “See if you can find any tampons for Robert while you’re at it!” Simone shot back.

Robert reddened, but did not respond to the taunt. We made our way along the path in the direction where the bikers came from after collecting the trio’s rifles and pistol and stacking them with our gear.

It didn’t take long for us to find the biker’s camp. There were three 70’s Harley Panheads parked in a triangle  around the perimeter of the camp in view of the neighborhood we passed through the night before. We searched the saddlebags and came up with precious little, just some extra ammunition for the rifles and pistol and a full bottle of Jose Curevo gold Tequila. We took the stuff and pushed the bikes over to a vacant home and hid them in the garage…Perhaps we could use them for trade items if the opportunity presented itself.

As we finished, I tapped Robert on the shoulder, “What you did today pissed off Simone man. I think it would be in your best interest to try to apologize to her.”

“Ben you heard her, she doesn’t want me around! To tell you the truth, I just don’t think I can take this much longer, the killing, the suffering and what this new world requires us to do to remain upright. Maybe I’m not cut out to make it.”

I grabbed Robert by the shoulders, “Stop with that talk Robert! You’re a fellow cop and my friend, and I won’t have you talking like that! I know you’re having trouble adjusting, but you’re still valuable to me and the group in Cambridge….You just need to accept the fact that we live in a harsh world now, and from time to time we have to deal with others viciously and without quarter. If we don’t, we’re dead! I have too much to lose back in Cambridge to die out here in the sticks. Simone feels the same way, and is afraid that you will break when we need you the most. We simply can’t afford that. You have to make a choice, continue with us and fully commit to this enterprise, or go. It can’t be half measures, or you will get us killed. So what’s it going to be…stay or go?”

Robert began to tear up, twin trails running down his face, “I’ll go back to Cambridge and wait for you there, I’m sure that there is a place for me. I can ride one of these motorcycles back there and let the town know where the other stuff is so we can use it.”

“Ok, if that’s what you think you gotta do, I’ll support your decision. Do you have what you need to go?

“No, I have to go back to camp and get some stuff, and then I’ll come back here and head back to Cambridge as fast as I can.”

We went back to the campsite with the meager supplies we found at the camp and informed Simone of the plan. All she said was “Good!” and “I’m ready to go whenever you are Ben.”

“I want to make a call to Cambridge and let them know what’s happening , so they aren’t surprised when Robert shows back up without us.”

I unpacked the radio and apprised Mitch of the situation and the location of the rifles and other stuff so he could pick them up on his way to get me. He acknowledged the transmission and signed off.

We walked our bikes back to the garage and watched Robert pack one of the motorcycles for his return to Cambridge. He mounted the bike and gave the starter a hard kick and the bike rumbled to life making the deep rumble that Harleys are famous for.  Robert cranked the throttle and kicked it into gear, “See you soon guys!” and sped out of the driveway towards Cambridge.

Simone spat on the pavement, “What a pussy! Let’s go Ben!”

We mounted our bikes and made our way out of town towards Palmyra, where they were waiting for us.

Chapter 23

We cruised along for about three hours, not hurrying and remaining aware of our surroundings. We saw a few people from a distance, but for the most part, this section of Wisconsin appeared to be devoid of other humans. Four hours after we left the outskirts of Whitewater we found the roadblock on the outskirts of Palmyra. There was a large hay wagon blocking the road and two sandbagged bunkers on each side of the road manned by a small group of men. One of the bunkers had a .50 caliber M-2 pointed menacingly down the road, ready to make sushi out of any would-be raider foolish enough to attack.

I parked my bike about ten yards from the roadblock and yelled, “I’m Ben Smith; I’m looking for Jonas Creedmore!”

A voice shot back, “How do you know Creedmore?”

“The walrus told me about him!” This verbal exchange was just another authentication code we had worked out prior to leaving Cambridge.

A tall and wiry man emerged from the sandbagged position and made his way towards me. He wore tight blue jeans and a flannel shirt with cowboy boots. I could hear his heels strike the pavement with a distinctive “clop, clop, clop” as he approached me. He reached out his hand as he closed to personal distance, “Ben, good to meet you I’m Creedmore, but you can call me Jonas. Elaine speaks very highly of you, and if you’re a friend of Elaine’s, you’re a friend of mine!”

“Thanks for the welcome Jonas, this is my friend Simone, she’s a cop from Waukesha.” Simone extended a hand towards Jonas, who gratefully accepted it and shook it gently.

Jonas looked puzzled for a moment, “Wasn’t there supposed to be a third person?”

I smiled, “Robert had to return to Cambridge unexpectedly, they needed his expertise there.”

“Ah, I see. Well, let’s get you guys into town and fed. I’m sure you’d like to clean up and share information with the town council.”

“That would be great Jonas, I would sure love a bath and a meal!”

“Coming right up Ben! Boys, move the wagon!” The wagon moved aside, and we entered the outskirts of Palmyra. Jonas had a bike of his own, and we rode into town towards our sleeping quarters. They put us up at the firehouse and after a hot shower and a filling meal; we made our way to the town hall.

Once inside the town hall, Jonas directed us to the main room where four men and three women sat. They were on a slightly raised platform passing papers to one another and murmuring softly between each other.

Jonas cleared his throat, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the visitor's from Cambridge.”

The group quieted and the man at the center of the table rose, “Welcome to Palmyra, I’m the town manager Vilos  Rostan, and these are the aldermen.” Each alderman nodded their heads in our direction and greeted us.

Vilos got right to business, “I understand that a truck of some type will be traveling through town on the way to the outskirts of Milwaukee for a supply run. I also understand that your Police Chief, Elaine Krusk has promised us a toll, for lack of a better term, for the privilege of coming through without interference. Is that so Mr……?”

“My name is Ben Mr. Rostan, and what you say is essentially true. Have you made any requests for specific supplies that your town needs?”

Vilos leaned back in his chair, “Now that you mention it, we do have some critical needs that hopefully you can provide us. First, we need more ammunition. Second, we could always use some medical supplies, after all we have no hospital and didn’t keep lots of those stored up. Also, we were told of a man named Mitch who is apparently a wizard with machines, perhaps he could be loaned to us to help us get some of our stuff back in working order.”

I cleared my throat, “Well Vilos, I can’t speak for Mitch, but he is a reasonable sort, I’m sure he will agree to help. As for ammunition, I am prepared to offer 750 rounds of 5.56 for the right to come through your town on the way out and the way back. In addition, I am prepared to offer a captured SKS rifle as a gesture of good faith that will arrive with the truck. Unfortunately, I don’t have any additional medical supplies to offer at the moment, but if I come across any, I will be happy to share.”

Viols stroked his chin, “Sounds like a pretty good deal. Allow me a moment to confer with my colleagues,  would you excuse us, please.” We left the room with Jonas and waited in the hall.

Jonas touched my arm, “750 rounds? That’s a lot of rounds! It would go a long way to strengthening our defenses.”

“Hopefully your boss accepts the deal Jonas, hopefully he understands that we are operating on good faith, and any attempt to gouge us would cast doubt on any future trading partnerships next spring.”

“Vilos is a reasonable guy, he won’t try to alter the deal once it’s hammered out, I assure you.”

After about ten minutes, we were ushered back into the hall. Vilos stood and hooked his fingers in his belt, “Sounds like you have a deal Ben, now let’s get over to the HAM shack and nail it down with Elaine. Vilos banged a gavel on the table and intoned, “Meeting dismissed!”

We left the Town Hall and went over to his communications center, affectionately known as the HAM shack. It was a nondescript building with a guard posted at the door. Vilos nodded at the guard, and he stepped aside. Upon entering the building, we saw a large radio setup with a couple of men monitoring the radios. Viols approached one of the men and tapped him on the shoulder, “Sparks, can you raise Cambridge?” The man known as sparks twisted the dials on his radio set and said “Pal to Cbridge, Pal to Cbridge, come in!” He nodded his head as he got Cambridge to answer and flicked a switch which brought the speakers on the set to life, “Cbridge here Pal, you are five by five, go ahead.”

Vilos grabbed a mike at the elbow of Sparks and said, “This is Pal actual, get me Kursk.”

“Wait one.” Came back the terse reply.

After about a minute, the voice of my lover came over on the speakers, “This is Kursk, did my emissaries get there ok?”

“They are here and we have come to an equitable deal.” Vilos then outlined the deal to Elaine, and she concurred.

“Pal actual, may I have a moment with Ben in private?”

Viols smiled and said “No problem, wait one.” Viols then ordered his men out of the room and left with Jonas and Simone in tow, shutting the door.

“Elaine to Ben, you alone?”

“Yes love, I am alone.”

“I miss you so much, I just wanted to say it.”

“Thanks babe, the feeling is mutual.”

“What’s the real reason for Robert’s return….is he a problem?”

“No, but he just couldn’t take it being out on the road….he just doesn’t have the mindset for it. He wouldn’t have made it if he remained with us. Find him something to do in town limits, I’m sure he’ll be happy with whatever you assign him.”

“Ok, I’ll see to it. How many days do you estimate until you reach your goal?”

“At least three more, I will keep you posted along the journey. How is the transport coming along?”

“You’re going to be surprised lover! Our wizard has outdone himself; you should have all the capacity you need. We are doing a dry run to the other location to determine if it can make the trip.”

“Good thinking. I will contact you on my personal set tomorrow at eight.”

“Roger, Kursk out.”

“I signed off and opened the door to let everyone else back into the room. The radio operators jumped back into their seats and continued doing what they were doing before our arrival.

“Everything ok Ben?” Inquired Vilos.

“Good on all counts, any other business for today?”

“Nah, business is concluded. The missus and I would like to have you and Simone by for dinner tonight. My son will come for you at the fire station at about six. Jonas, I would like you to join us as well.”

“Ok Boss, I’ll bring Simone and Ben by, no need to send your son.”

“Fine, about six then?”

“Sure. Simone, Ben, Let’s head back to the fire station so you can rest a bit and freshen up before I come and get you.”

“Great.” I was looking forward to a bit of a nap before dinner, and I knew Simone was as well. We were tired and stressed from our two days on the road.

We arrived at the fire station, and Jonas made his way down the main street and out of sight. We entered our quarters, and I sat on the twin bed and removed my cycling shoes. I flexed my toes and took off my socks to give my feet some air and lay down on the bed, shutting my eyes. Simone and I shared a room, and she was doing the same thing, but like most women, she wanted to ask me some questions right before I passed out.

“Say Ben, do you think we will have any trouble if we try to get into Waukesha, that biker asshole said it had been taken over by a coalition of paramilitaries and police.”

I mused for a moment, “Perhaps, maybe they will shoot at us first and ask questions later. I think we should make some efforts to contact some of your people in the Sheriff’s office prior to our arrival so we can arrange a meet and avoid any unpleasantness.”

“Sounds good, I just wonder who is still around working as a cop, and who headed for the hills when the shit hit the fan.”

“Well Simone, you should think on it and we’ll pass a message back to Cambridge and see if they can work it out for us. Worse comes to worse, and we’ll have to improvise as we reach Waukesha. Now, I’m going to get some shuteye, I suggest you do the same. Something tells me the road is going to get a bit livelier as we move closer to Milwaukee.

“Got that right Ben!” I heard her recline on her bed, and in a few moments heard a light snoring coming from my companion.

I drifted off a few minutes later, thinking about our Waukesha problem.

At about five, one of the firemen entered the room and woke us up. We stretched and made preparations  to go to dinner over at Vilos’s home. Simone took another shower and took the time to shave her legs, she explained that she didn’t want to go to dinner all scraggly. I took another shower and shaved off the scruff I was sporting. I thought it important to be presentable to our hosts.

At the appointed hour, Jonas came by, and we walked to Vilos’s home. After a short walk through Palmyra, Vilos came out the front door and greeted us, “Welcome to Casa Vilos!” He swept us inside into a well-appointed family room, past the kitchen and onto the back porch, which gave us a great view of the town and the surrounding countryside.  A petite woman came from the kitchen and Vilos’s face cracked into a broad smile, “Everyone, this is my better half Jane.”

Jane was what I called a touchy type; she always moved in for a hug over a handshake, and if she sat next to you she was constantly touching your arm or shoulder to bring your attention to something or emphasize a point. She was an all-around sweetheart however and made us feel immediately welcome.

“Welcome to our home! We are going to have buffalo steak for dinner on the grill and some root vegetables from the garden tonight. For dessert, we have blackberry cobbler with handmade whipped cream. Now have a seat on the porch, perhaps we can convince Vilos to break out some of his famous home-brewed beer!”

Vilos blushed, “Dear, you know that I haven’t got it perfected yet.”

“Nonsense, the men at he brewing club gave your IPA a silver medal just a month ago at the chili cook off, now go down and fish a few bottles out for our guests, I’m sure they would be grateful!”

“How can I refuse you dear. Ben, would you give me a hand bringing some up?”

“Sure thing Vilos, I never turn down handcrafted beer….especially IPA!”

Vilos led me to the basement. He made his way over to a light switch and flicked it on. The basement came into full illumination, revealing a small-scale brewing operation.

“Wow Vilos, quite the setup you got here.” I marveled at the large copper kettles and fermenting tank that lined the wall.

“Well, a few years ago my wife pressed me to get into a hobby since I retired, and I had always been keen on brewing. I cut out a few acres on our land and grew some wheat, barley and hops and presto, beer! I’m going to try my hand at wine and spirits this fall when the grapes I got growing mature, but for now beer it is!”

Viols made his way to a propane powered refrigerator and produced 12 bottles of beer bearing the label “Pith Helmet IPA” with a British style pith helmet emblazoned on the front label.  “My son came up with the illustration on the label, he’s quite the artist.”

We shut off the lights and brought the beer to the waiting guests. During our absence, another person had joined the group. Vilos introduced the newcomer as Geoff Ranes, the chief radio operator. He was going to give us some intel on the road ahead after dinner.

We popped open the bottles, and I took a long, cold pull of the IPA. The taste of pine needles and hops splashed over my tongue, reminding me of Sierra Nevada Torpedo, one of the finest IPA’s around. I complemented Vilos on his brewing skill and relaxed among the group of people sitting on the porch talking quietly.

Vilos’s son Ivan finally arrived after tending to the rabbits and chickens. He had a large red fox gripped in his hand. “Dad, you were right, I laid the trap where you told me and bang, instant fox! We won’t be losing anymore chickens and rabbits to this character!” He threw the fox over the side of the porch and said “I’ll skin it after dinner. Can I have a beer?”

“Sure can, unless these fine Police officers object!”

I laughed, “I don’t think that the age limit to drinking is one of our bigger problems right now, enjoy Ivan!”

Ivan grabbed on of the beers and popped the top; he took a long pull and smacked his lips, “Ah, that’s great stuff dad!”

Jane came out on the porch with a pile of raw buffalo steaks seasoned with salt and pepper.

“Ivan! Vilos! These steaks aren’t going to cook themselves…Get to work!”

Vilos made his way to the massive grill in the corner and hit the spark switch bringing it to propane powered life. After letting it heat for a few moments, he laid the meat on the grill and the sound and smell of roasting meat drifted across the porch. Soon Vilos announced that the steaks were ready. He signaled his wife in the kitchen, “Just about ready darling!”

Jane called from the kitchen, “Come on folks, soup’s on.” She led us to a table off the kitchen. Apparently, we rated the good china and silverware as guests. We tucked in around the table, and Ivan dropped a substantial buffalo steak on each of our plates. The root vegetables, including carrots, potatoes and parsnips were passed around from a large bowl. 

Silence reigned as we all dug into the wonderful dinner. The buffalo was incredibly lean and juicy, and the vegetables were roasted to perfection. It had been a long time since I had a home-cooked sit down meal, so I relished it.

Dinner finished quickly, and we were directed to the family room for conversation. Vilos took up residence in a leather winged back chair with Simone and I sitting on a small loveseat, and Geoff and Ivan sat across from us on a matching love seat. Jane joined us and sat on a rocker situated beside Vilos.

I rocked back in my seat, “That was an incredible dinner, thanks everyone!”

Vilos nodded, “Our pleasure, now let’s get down to business. Geoff, you have the floor.”

Geoff stood, “Ever since the event I have been keeping tabs on our local area as well as the world. I’ve been a HAM for 25 years, and, as a result, have made hundreds of contacts all over the world. Soon after this happened I tried to contact my friends to see if this was happening everywhere. It appears all corners of the world are affected by this incident, as far south as Pretoria in South Africa, and as far north ad Fairbanks, Alaska to the north. Rioting started almost immediately in the big cities, and some of my friends are apparently victims of the chaos. One thing that I found strange is that none of my contacts has heard a peep from the Federal Government. Thanks to the Department of Homeland Security, many of us in the HAM community serve as vital communications links for the government on the local level. Even if the government went into hiding, they would still be issuing instructions from their secure locations for us to pass along to local authorities. So far we’ve heard nothing; not even military commanders are communicating. My friends that live near large bases all say that the military has hunkered down and are waiting for instructions, with no movement in or out of the bases at all. I think that whatever happened was a worldwide event, so we need to take steps to protect ourselves right away.”

Vilos grunted, “That’s being taken care of Geoff as you are aware. Please continue.”

“As for Southeastern Wisconsin, things are rapidly spinning out of control. Milwaukee has totally gone to hell. My friend on the near south side says he witnessed a mob of what appeared to be gang members burn the Sixth District police station to the ground. My friend said that the police put up one hell of a fight, but they were simply outgunned and overwhelmed by the gang members. The remaining officers were executed in front of the station as a lesson to anyone else that resisted. The gang then attacked St. Luke’s hospital and looted it for all of its supplies, then set it on fire. My friend barely escaped back to his home to report this to me. The same thing was repeated at several local police stations according to other eyewitnesses in the city. So we can assume that law and order is non-existent within the city limits, so traveling there is not advisable at all. Your path to Eagle and Waukesha is relatively clear, there is not much activity on the roads there so you can probably pass without incident. I don’t know your final destination, but it appears that west and north of Milwaukee are the most stable areas for the moment. Your best bet is to go through those areas and avoid Milwaukee on your journey.”

Geoff sat down, and Vilos stood up, “Ben, I’m sorry about your friends, I can only hope that some escaped to carry on the fight elsewhere. Hopefully, the got back to their families and got out.”

“I hope so too Vilos. Geoff, can you get a hold of either the guys in charge of Waukesha or the Sheriff’s Department and tell them that one of their numbers is returning and where to meet as soon as you can?”

“Sure, I’ll go right now and start working on that. I’ll let you know tomorrow morning before you head out.” Geoff then left to carry out his new assignment.

“Vilos, I think I am going to head back and turn in…Simone, you coming?”

“Yeah, we got a long ride tomorrow….thanks for your hospitality Vilos. Ivan and Jane, it was a pleasure meeting both of you. Hopefully, we’ll see you soon on the return trip.”

Vilos walked us to the door, “Sleep well my friends.”

I reached in my daypack, “I almost forgot, manners dictated that I come with something for the host.” I produced a pint of Myers and handed it over to my friend.  “I hope you enjoy it.”

Vilos studied the oblong bottle, “Rum is my favorite, thanks so much!”

Simone and I then made our way back to the firehouse. As I crashed into my bunk, I couldn’t help but think of my friends at District six. I furiously hoped that they left a pile of gangbangers on the doorstep of Six before being overwhelmed. I hope that if they died they died for something, and not for the people who didn’t stand up for them. I drifted off to sleep praying that those who met their end had gone on to a better place.

Chapter 24

Simone and I rose early. I made my call back to Cambridge and outlined what had transpired at the dinner as well as the information provided to us by Geoff regarding the state of the world. We got the news that Geoff had contacted them, and they had cleared us through Eagle and also contacted Waukesha County Sheriff. Our contact there was Jeff Perkins, chief road deputy and we were to meet him at the Western checkpoint at Highway XX and the Les Paul Parkway later that day. We packed our bikes and had a hearty breakfast provided to us from out firehouse hosts. We met Jonas, and he took us to the opposite checkpoint and bid us farewell. We were back on the road. All through the morning we rode in silence wondering what the next turn would bring us. We saw a few people, and they waved at us from a distance, but made no effort to approach our little convoy. As the sun rose higher, the temperature rose quickly, straining us and making us sweat.

I pulled alongside Simone, “What do you say to a water break at the next crossroads?”

She looked up from her handlebars, “Yeah, sounds like a plan, we’ll be just shy of Eagle, so it seems like a good time to stop.”

We found an abandoned general store and stopped under the awning for the shade. It appeared that the store was looted for everything of value. We sat on the porch and sipped our water and nibbled on some Kind bars Jane had slipped us for the trip. I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being watched from a distance, so I kept my eyes peeled as we rested.  I looked out across the highway at a vast field of wheat that shimmered and moved in the slight breeze, and saw some movement that caught my eye. It appeared that a clump of wheat was moving in out direction with purpose. I touched Simone on the arm and pointed out into the field, “Am I hallucinating or is that clump of grass moving towards us?”

Simone shielded her eyes from the sun, “Yeah, it doesn’t look like it is going along with the wind, looks like it’s standing straight up.”

I lifted myself from the floor of the porch and made my way to my bike and unlimbered my AR-15 from its improvised scabbard and chambered a round. The bolt slamming home made a loud snapping sound, and the pile of grass stood up with his hands in the air.

He waved his arms, “Don’t shoot, I’m friendly!”

The wheat man, as I began to call him, crossed the road under the muzzle of my rifle. He stopped about ten feet away from me and put his hands down, “Are you Ben and Simone?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I’m Bill McKesson, I work for the town of Eagle and was directed to contact you while you were on the road. I happened to see you so I thought I would take a peek before revealing myself. I guess I don’t have this Ghillie suit thing right just yet, but I’m getting better!” He smiled a lopsided smile.  We’re about a mile from the roadblock, follow me and I will take you in.” He produced a small radio from his pocket and said into it, “Shaggy to Scooby, I found the package and am bringing it in, over.”

The radio squawked, “Ask him who his best friend is.”

Bill looked at me sheepishly, “Who is your best friend?”

“The mighty Basset Hound of course!” This was the agreed upon  verbal authentication for Eagle.

“Authentication confirmed, proceed.” Crackled the voice on the radio.

Bill led us up the hill to what he called the back entrance and were met by the Mayor. After a few pleasantries and confirmation on what supplies we were going to drop off, we were led through town and passed through their second roadblock. With Eagle behind us, we set our sights on the checkpoint of western Waukesha twelve miles away.

Since we left Eagle, I noticed Simone picking up the pace a bit. I looked down at my speedometer and noticed that we were moving along at 17 miles per hour. Her long legs were like steam pistons pumping away at the pedals in a measured and powerful strokes. I rode parallel to her and enjoyed the ride with someone that could move at this pace without much difficulty. Not many could move at such a pace, and only after years of hard riding on my part, I was finally able to keep a hard pace like this on a mountain bike. To watch a natural in action was a true pleasure. She danced on the pedals and moved along almost effortlessly. I watched her concentrate on putting all of her energy into the pedal stroke without mashing her legs down and crushing the pedals. Her back was straight, and her shoulders hardly moved, the true mark of an efficient cyclist.  She was so smooth I thought I could have balanced a glass of water on her back, and it wouldn’t spill.

I pulled alongside her, “At this pace we will be therein less than an hour, right about three o’clock…just in time for cocktails.”

Simone smiled, “A banana daiquiri for me good sir!”

I laughed, “I’ll inform the concierge prior to our arrival good lady!”

She looked over at me, “I’m sorry I am going so fast, I just want to see my people and get off the road.”

“Understood, I’m looking forward to meeting them…and a soft bed for the night!”

“That you’ll have sir, I assure you. Now let’s make it a big finish….we’re within two miles of the checkpoint. Simone poured on the power and in less than nine minutes we arrived. From what I could see it was a pretty orderly operation. The outer perimeter guards stopped us and asked who we were. When Simone identified herself and produced her identification, the guards visibly relaxed and waved a green flag at the main entrance. A large man in a Sheriff’s uniform strode towards us. He was a mountain of a man, at least 6 foot 5 and pale as a ghost. A large red mustache bristled between his upper lip and nose, and he moved with an athletic grace. As he got closer, he squinted his eyes at Simone and ran towards her, scooping her up and giving her a bear hug.

“You made it back! I thought I’d lost you girl!”

“Now Perkie, you know you can’t lose a girl like me, we’re just too tough.”

Simone was dropped to the ground, and the giant turned to face me, “Are you the guy I’m to thank for bringing one of our own home to us?”

I extended my hand, “Sergeant Ben Smith, District Six, Milwaukee. At your service sir!”

“He gripped my hand and gave it a firm shake, “Jeff Perkins, Chief Deputy. I’m sorry to hear about your friends; it’s all over the HAM network.”

I sighed, “It’s a terrible loss for the citizens of Milwaukee, I can only hope they went out fighting and died well.”

Jeff grunted, “Let’s get you inside the perimeter and get you some grub, I’m sure that you’re hungry after all that riding.”

We walked through the improvised gate and brought to a building called the Command Post, which was a vacated car dealership. People moved with purpose, shuffling paper and holding conversations about the subject of long-term survival.

I marveled at the activity, “It’s the end of the world, and we’re still shuffling paper…unbelievable!”

Jeff chuckled, “Yeah, it is a bit absurd, but things still have to be accounted for, schedules have to be written and defenses must be coordinated…..so paper still rules.”

We were led to a large, well appointed office that had a desk, chairs, and a large couch off to the side. Simone and I plopped on the couch, and Jeff took the office chair after moving it from behind the desk. Something in Jeff’s demeanor change when we entered the office, I had the distinct feeling we were about to get some very bad news.

Jeff looked at Simone, “Hon, I got some bad news. We found your grandmother and sister in their home killed after the first night. We think it was robbers looking for a quick score while the lights were out. Your sister tagged one of them with the Glock you left her, but without DNA analysis of the blood pool, we’ll never be able to find out who did it. Looks like your grandma had a heart attack from all of the excitement and died in her room. I didn’t know how else to tell you….I’m so sorry.

Simone froze, and a single tear dropped from her left eye, “I should never have left to go to this fucking class. It’s all my fault!” She buried her head in her hands and began to weep.

Jeff and I excused ourselves so Simone could have a few moments alone. Jeff was interested in the details of the journey and pressed me for details. I summarized the trip and all of the adventures we had, ending with our arrival at the checkpoint.  Jeff wanted more, I suspected he wanted to know if Simone and I are a couple, so I decided to give him what he wanted in a blunt fashion.

“Jeff, if you’re wondering if we’re fucking, the answer is no. Simone and I are friends, nothing more. We merely banded together because I was headed this way and knew she was too. If she’s yours, just tell me, she wasn’t very talkative on the subject during our time together.

Jeff blanched, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh? Not to be rude man, but it sure seemed like it to me!”

“Look Ben, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you or put my brand on Simone. We were together once, but not for about a year now.  Under the circumstances we’re facing, I would like that to change.”

“I certainly can understand that Jeff. Apology accepted. Now, what can you tell me about the local towns and road conditions around New Berlin.”

“Why New Berlin?”

I hesitated for a moment unsure about just how much to tell Jeff, “I’ve got some stuff there I’m going to pick up and bring back with me to Cambridge.”

“I see. Well, in New Berlin, Jerry Kozy is in charge. I can radio him if you want me to and let him know you’re coming.”

When I heard that name, my blood froze.  I had to play it off despite this devastating piece of news. “That would be great, but don’t tell him what I plan on doing. I’ll take care of that.”

“Will do. I’ll be back in about an hour until then could you comfort Simone for me.”

“Sure thing Jeff.”

I watched Jeff’s back as he retreated down the hallway, my mind in absolute turmoil. For fuck’s sake……Jerry Kozy in charge of New Berlin! I couldn’t believe it. I could only assume that the entire command staff, all 4 of them, got wiped out to leave  Jerry in charge.

Jerry Kozy was, to put it mildly, a fucking psychopath.  His reputation earned him the nickname time bomb Jerry. Unfortunately, he was also my ex- partner. He was the most reactionary and unreasonable person ever to wear a badge. He was a large man, about 6 foot 7 and carried a lot of fat on his exterior; he weighed in at about 350 pounds. He had the manners of a pig and the disposition of a pissed off badger, not the best combination for a public servant. We didn’t get along from day one, and he got me into tons of trouble with our Internal Affairs Division because of his antics. I was happy to be a witness to the incident that finally got him to resign.

We were on foot patrol in an up and coming neighborhood. Prior to that, it was a wretched hive of scum and villainy populated by less than desirable characters. Greasy spoon diners, liquor stores and check cashing places were the only businesses to thrive there. It would have stayed the low-rent neighborhood it was, but it was right next to the lake, making the property extremely valuable. Once the city realized the amount of tax revenue that could be generated if the place were remodeled, the ball started rolling. The Police presence increased, and arrests for minor offenses became the order of the day. Then the inspectors came in and started condemning buildings where the less than desirable residents lived, forcing them out of the area for slightly less green pastures. Once the area was deemed safe, the progressives started to move in and buy the distressed properties up for a song. The demand for services increased and in a few short years what was once urban blight turned into quite a prestigious address. Unfortunately, the progressives had very little use for the police in general except for window dressing. They wanted us to be Nazis to those who looked cross-eyed at them, and drove their now expensive property values down. We were to keep the rif-raff at a minimum. It was a tough place to work; we had to use our diplomatic skills, as well as our police smarts in creative ways. Jerry was about as diplomatic as North Korea, and the only Police tool he relied upon was a hammer…which made every problem a nail.

We got sent to the local Alderman’s house for a loitering complaint. Apparently the local skater kids found that the Alderman’s alley was the perfect place to practice their tricks well into the evening. The Alderman finally had enough and summoned us to break them up and send them on their way. Jerry hated the alderman because he was a founding member of the progressive caucus in City Hall, and Jerry was to the right of David Duke politically. He grumbled all the way to the Alderman’s home about helping out “that liberal fuck," so I decided to do all the talking.

I knocked on the door and the Alderman, Silas McCabe answered, “Ah, gentlemen, please come in.”

He led us into his home where the revelry of the skateboard kids could easily be heard coming from the alleyway.

“I don’t want to be any trouble, but those youngsters must move on for the evening. Please advise them that they are not to return or face citations.”

“I think we can do that sir.”

Jerry made his way into the kitchen, which led out into the backyard and out into the alley while I was talking to the Alderman and taking some notes, giving the impression of the efficient public servant. I could see the kids doing their tricks and making a nuisance of themselves in the darkened alley out of the rear window of the Alderman’s home.

“While I was discussing some further options for the alderman to take, I heard a scuffle and my partner yelling.

“Excuse me Alderman, I think my partner has made contact with the skaters.”

I proceeded out through the kitchen and entered the alley just in time to see my partner pick up one of the kids off of the ground and violently throw him into a grassy patch while yelling, “This is what you get for calling me an asshole!”

The kid landed with an audible thump and a cry of pain.

“Jerry, what the fuck are you doing!” I tried to grab at one of his arms as he went after a second skater. He easily  slipped my grip  on his wrist and grabbed another skater by the arm, throwing him in the direction of the first skater. Unfortunately, the skater tripped over his feet and fell to the concrete, scraping his head and hands in the process, drawing blood.

Jerry roared like a madman and picked up a skateboard and threw it into the street, where it was run over by a car and destroyed. He stomped the three other boards left behind by the frightened skaters, breaking them all in half.

I knew what kind of trouble we were in and tried to stop my rampaging partner, “Jerry cut it out for Christ’s sake. We got to get some medical attention for these kids!”

He glared at me with madness in his eye, “These kids need to learn a lesson, and I’m going to teach it to them!”

He began to move towards the two kids on the ground, growling. I had no choice; I tackled him from behind and knocked him to the ground and got on the radio.

“2264 to Dispatch, roll a supervisor and medical attention for two----“

Jerry threw me off his back and kicked me in the side of the head, leaving me dazed.

I heard him yell, “You fucking traitor!” from a far distance.

While I was lying in the alley, a couple of squad cars rolled up and tried to subdue Jerry.  Jerry put up a fight and had to be tazed by the arriving Sergeant. He was handcuffed and thrown in the patrol wagon, screaming about how I was a fucking traitor, and I would get mine.

The first boy Jerry attacked had a broken arm and several bruises, and the second boy was pretty well scraped up. Naturally, they sued and were given a settlement by the city to keep them quiet.

I had no choice but to rat Jerry out  in the internal investigation. After all, I wasn’t going down for his brutish and violent behavior. The other police witnesses, as well as the Alderman, reported that I had tried to stop Jerry from harming the skaters. Not wanting a full-blown criminal trial splashed all over the papers, they gave Jerry the option to resign or face criminal prosecution. He took the resignation, and then promptly got hired by his dad’s friend in New Berlin. Because he resigned, IAD couldn’t legally tell New Berlin what a fucktard Jerry was, so he started with a clean slate. I had the sneaking suspicion that Jerry didn’t forget about my imagined betrayal and me. Hopefully, time had mellowed him….but I suspected  I was in for it if I came across him!

I was still musing on this new problem when I re-entered the room to comfort Simone. Simone looked stricken to the core, tears running freely down her face and occasionally sobbing.

I moved to her side and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, “How are you holding up sweetheart?”

She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes, “There’s nothing for me here anymore Ben. They were my reason for getting home. Now what am I going to do?”

“It seems Jeff is awful sweet on you, is there anything between you two?”

She sniffed “No, there was once, but it ended up hurting both of us. I won’t make that same mistake again.”

“I see, well, are you going to stay? It looks like your county needs you. I think Jeff wants you to stay as well; he needs experienced people like you to defend what little society decent people have left.”

She looked me in the eyes, “I want to come with you Ben, I think I can make a life in Cambridge, can I come?”

“If that’s what you want, you’re welcome to come with me. How are we going to break this to Jeff, we need to get the truck through Waukesha, so we need cooperative allies.”

“Leave him to me Ben, I’ll work it out with him. Let’s get ready to go, we can make New Berlin if we hump it”

We exited the conference room and found Jeff in the main office. He was discussing what appeared to be the finer points of perimeter security with one of his subordinates.

Jeff looked up, “How are you doing Simone?”

“Ok, it is a lot to absorb, but I know that you will do your best in locating the killers.”

“That’s a promise. So what’s up, I need a natural leader like you to whip these Militias into shape.”

“We’ll talk about that in a minute, have you made contact with New Berlin?”

“Yep. Ben, it looks like Jerry is pretty excited to hear from you. He says he’ll meet you at the roadblock on highway Y and Small Road bordering Muskego. He says he’ll give you safe conduct for you and your truck through town for old time’s sake.”

I didn’t believe that for a minute, “Great, I look forward to seeing him.”

Simone placed her hand on Jeff’s shoulder, “Hon; we got to talk, just you and me.” She led him back the conference room, and I stood in the command center watching all the activity buzz around me.

In about ten minutes, Simone and Jeff emerged from the conference room. Jeff looked like he got hit in the gut with a baseball bat. Just like every man looked like when their heart is broken by their one true love. Simone rejoined me followed by Jeff.

Jeff looked me over, “Simone says you want to push on to New Berlin, is that so?

“Yes Jeff, I think we can make my shelter before night falls. Thanks for your hospitality and assistance, I won’t forget it.”

“Just get your stuff and get back to Cambridge, I look forward to working with you in the future when we un-fuck this little part of the world.”

“You can bet on it Jeff, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

He led us out to the checkpoint at highway Y and watched us as we grew smaller in the distance. He turned and walked back to the command center with his shoulders slumped.

Chapter 25

Now it was my turn to put on speed. As the crow flew, it was only about six miles to my cache, so if we rode at a good pace, we would make the roadblock in about thirty minutes of riding. We were waved through the first New Berlin Roadblock without incident. Once we passed, my stomach sank, I was now well within the reach of Jerry.

My guts knotted at the scenarios of meeting Jerry. Had he nursed a grudge all these years and was finally going to take revenge on me as I arrived? Was he going to kill Simone and me just to make a point? Was he going to imprison us and do all sorts of horrendous shit to us before killing us? Knowing Jerry I wouldn’t put any of those scenarios past him; he was deep down stupid and evil so we had to be as diplomatic as possible when dealing with him.

Simone interrupted my thoughts, “Penny for your thoughts?”

I sighed, “Simone if this guy gets squirrelly; we got to gun him down. He and I had some bad blood in the past, and he's got a long memory. He might be walking me into a trap, so keep on your toes when we meet him.”

“Roger that, he touches you he dies…..simple.”

As we were coming down the massive hill, we saw the roadblock. It was on the other side of a double rotary, which would slow down any potential traffic thanks to Wisconsin’s fetish for  traffic circles.  It looked pretty sophisticated; it had a zig-zag course for vehicles to go through and sandbagged emplacements with armed men inside them. We pulled up and were directed to get off of our bikes.

“I’m looking for Jerry; my name is Ben Smith, I used to work with him in Milwaukee.”

“Just a minute, we’re calling him!” came the disembodied voice.

After about ten minutes of uncomfortable silence, a golf cart pulled up, and Jerry emerged from the passenger seat.

To say the years have been kind to Jerry was an understatement. Gone was the flabby exterior, replaced with a Bronze God’s physique. He had shaved himself bald, giving him the appearance of an evil Mr. Clean. He left the protection of the roadblock and strode over to us in a relaxed fashion.

He stopped in front of me and looked me up and down, “How’s it going partner?” and grabbed me in a bear hug. He squeezed the breath out of me before dropping me to the pavement and letting out a hearty laugh.

“It’s great to see you man, how’ve you been!”

“Pretty good Jerry, this here is my friend Simone, she’s a deputy in Waukesha.”

He extended a hand in Simone’s direction, “Jerry Kozy, nice to meet you!”

Simone shook his hand, “Likewise Jerry.”

Jerry returned his focus on me, “What brings you to New Berlin?”

I summarized our adventures from the event to our arrival in Waukesha, explaining that I was here to get some of my stuff and then settle in Cambridge.

“I’ll be here for a little more than 24 hours and then on my way Jerry. I got a truck of some sort coming to pick up my stuff.  They’ll be here tomorrow in the afternoon. We’ll be gone by 6am the next day. I hope that you can help me out by letting the truck through.

Jerry stroked his chin, “How did you get a truck running?”

“You’re going to have to ask the resident genius when he arrives. I’m sure he will share that secret with you as a form of  appreciation.”

“Sounds good, where are you going in my fine little berg Ben?”

“Out to the warehouses off of Small Road, I got my cache there.”

Jerry looked me over once again and narrowed his eyes, “Yeah, I’ve heard from some of my friends in Milwaukee that you had become quite the prepper after your woman ran off on you.” He waited for a reaction to his insult.

I replied in a neutral tone, “Well, a man has to keep busy Jerry.”

Jerry nodded, “Ok sport, you can get your stuff with my compliments…if you need anything I’m over at the Police station.”

“Very generous of you Jerry, thanks for helping out.”

“What are old friends for Ben! Get out of here and get to your cache!”

Jerry swept his arm aside and led us through the roadblock. As we turned on to Small Road, I looked over my shoulder and saw Jerry’s false mask slip a bit. His hatred for me burned across his face. I waved to him and acted like I didn’t notice it and made my way down the road with a churning stomach at what was to come.”

Jerry turned away from my retreating figure and snapped his fingers. A guard came running up and saluted, “Yes sir?”

“Roland find what building our old friend Ben is in. Let his friends through tomorrow with smiles and rainbows. Once they loaded the truck, we’ll kill them all except Ben and that black bitch. I want my old friend to know what the meaning of suffering is. And I want that bitch for my personal property; I’m going to enjoy introducing her to my kind of loving!”

He walked back to his golf cart and shouted, “Home James!” as he laughed manically into the falling evening.

We rode side by side down small road and up the hill leading to the business park. At the crest of the hill, the full park came into view. It was about 1 square mile of nothing but industrial buildings specializing in light manufacturing and warehouses. I stopped and dismounted, surveying the scene before me. I motioned for Simone to do the same. I looked over my shoulder and moved closer to Simone.

I whispered, “I think we’re being followed to see what building we enter. I want to make it as difficult as possible for Jerry to find us, so we’re going to ride fast down the hill and use a shortcut through that thicket of trees. The trees will shield us from prying eyes until I get us in the door.”

Simone nodded, “Ok, lead the way.”

I re-mounted my bike and began my descent down the hill. Halfway down the paved road I suddenly jumped off the roadway into the grass and dashed down the hill to the northern cluster of buildings. Once I reached the corner I made a sharp right turn and shot down one of the alleys between the warehouses and stopped at a nondescript door with Simone hot on my trail. I produced a key from around my neck and slid it into a large industrial grade deadbolt. The bolt snapped open, and we were inside. I shut and bolted the door quickly and quietly as possible. We entered a hallway facing a large group of nondescriptly numbered doors with padlocks on each one. We had arrived at my cache.

“Welcome to the treasure cave Simone! I’ll be your host, Ben Smith, please follow me to the verandah for cocktails!” I directed her down the hall with a flourish of my arm.

We walked down the deserted hallway until we came to a room with AA123 written on it. I used the same key to enter the room and swung the door wide to take advantage of the fading light. I entered the room flicked on a flashlight that illuminated a 20X30 foot room containing nothing except a couple of cots and a large garage door the could accommodate a tractor trailer. As I scanned the space with my light, I noticed a plain white envelope pinned to the wall with “BEN” scrawled across it. I opened the envelope and found that it was a letter from the man who gave me the space in the warehouse free of charge. It read:

Ben,

Well, I guess you were right; the shit hit the fan. I looked for you at your house and remembered that you were in Madison this weekend. Hopefully, you get back here someday. The advice you gave me on prepping has so far been invaluable, especially the pre 1970’s car. I was able to get here and grab the majority of my stuff before it got too hairy, Hopefully; I made it to the middle of South Dakota to my ranch to ride this thing out. I wish you well my friend, wherever you land. Thanks for being my friend and turning me on to the prepper lifestyle, you have saved me and my family!

P.S. I left some goodies for you in my room, please take them if you can as Allah would not permit me to consume them.

Your Friend,

Ahmed Siluli

I folded the letter carefully and put it in my side pocket. Hopefully, I would be able to see Ahmed in the coming years once things calmed down.

Simone appeared puzzled that I led her into an empty room, “Ben; there’s nothing in here but some old army cots. Where is all your stuff?

“You see it all, but don’t see it….observe!” I walked to the outer wall and poked my finger into a spot covered by paper drywall tape. It ripped easily and revealed a handhold. I pulled the handhold, and it swung out revealing a room filled with about 10 years of accumulated survival gear.

I handed her a LED flashlight from my pack and led her inside my treasure cave. Simone marveled at the three rows of shelves that rose to the ceiling and contained everything a group of people would need to make a well supplied home out of the warehouse. On the first set of shelves, I had crates of MRE’s. Most were good until 2019, but they would remain edible for years after that if stored properly. Next came canned goods, which took up 15 feet of shelf space from the floor to the ceiling. After that I had about five feet of canning supplies including my pressure cookers, glass jars of all sizes and 8000 canning lids.

The second row of shelves contained spare clothing and shoes for the first five feet. I had saved sneakers, work boots, combat boots as well as socks and underwear. Most of the clothing I got from surplus sales and warehouse liquidations for pennies on the dollar. It was pretty boring stuff, but at least I would have a pair of pants if I survived for the long term. I stored my non-GMO seeds on this shelf as well to include foodstuffs for both summer and fall planting. The second shelf also contained my reloading supplies and equipment. I had 50 assorted pounds of gunpowder 20,000 primers and about 20,000 bullets and brass of various calibers. Behind that was the loaded ammunition I had stored over the years totaling 50,000 rounds of various calibers. I also stored several extra rifles and pistols that I purchased over the years or miraculously “found” while in the course of my duties as a street sergeant.

I joked to Simone, “No smoking near the second shelf!”

“I’ll try to remember that Rambo!”

The third set of shelves contained medical supplies and hand tools along with various pieces of hardware stored in jars. Rope, string and wire were neatly coiled around spools and stored next to the tools.  I finished the tour with what I called the Library, which contained hundreds of books on mechanics, food preparation, medicine, defense, and gardening. All of the shelves were neatly arranged by subject and in alphabetical order. In the very back of my cache were about 100 Rubbermaid totes with covers that would be used to transport the loose objects in my cache. I designated two of the totes for Eagle and Palmyra, and packed them with the agreed upon materials for passing through their towns.

“So, what do you think?”

“How much did all of this cost Ben? It had to be a fortune!”

“I would guess that I spent about $50,000 over a ten year period….not a whole lot when you think about it. Plus an additional $500-1000 I invest in it yearly for replacement of perishables or better equipment when it comes on the market. For example, the aluminized pouches I kept all my flashlights in just came on the market this year.  Besides, the rent here is free, so I didn’t have that cost…all in all a wise investment I think.”

“I have to agree Ben, it is an impressive collection!”

“Unfortunately for us Simone, we now have cause to use it.”

Meanwhile……..

              Roland came back into town as darkness fell and went directly to Jerry’s office. Jerry had his feet up on the desk, reading a Swank.

Roland knocked, “Sir, I lost them in the park…they were just too quick for me!”

A baleful eye rose over the pornographic magazine, “You lost them?”

Roland shifted on his feet, “Well, I was on foot, and they were on bikes. They used the hill to speed into the park and conceal themselves among the buildings. What should I do now?”

Jerry slapped the magazine on the desk and approached Roland,  “You’re going to take your ass back out there and find out where they went, I don’t care how long it takes….FIND THEM! Do not alert them to your presence, we need them to load the truck for us before we take it from them. Remember surprise is the key!”

“Yes sir, I’ll sneak back and find them, you can bet on it!” Roland turned and left the office.

Jerry returned to his magazine mumbling, “Why must I be surrounded by such incompetence!”

Back at the Warehouse……

“Let’s go and see what Ahmed left us!” I took Simone by the hand and led her to Room BB1126 on the second floor of the warehouse.  The door was open, and I pushed it inward. Using my lantern, I shined a light in and was amazed at the gifts that were left by my dear friend.  There were 50 cases of assorted Rum and 50 cases of other assorted liquors. Next to te substantial stash of liquor was half a pallet of baby formula and 25 cases of meal replacement drinks. Tucked behind the formula pallet were about 100 cartons of cigarettes of various brands, all of them fresh, but missing the Wisconsin tax stamp.

“I know why Ahmed left the liquor, perhaps he couldn’t carry all of this stuff, so he had to leave it behind.”

“What did your friend Ahmed do Ben?” Simone eyed the cigarettes suspiciously.

“He owned a chain of gas stations. I met him while I was working on the beat, and we became friends. I knew of some of his shady dealings, but I turned a blind eye because he wasn’t hurting anyone, and he fed my friends in Homeland Security a few pieces of information a year on the more radical Muslim elements in the city.”

“You’re a complicated man Ben Smith.”

“But no one understands me but my woman!”

Simone whispered, “Ben Smith!”

“Can you dig it!”

At that moment, I realized what an extraordinary person Simone was. Not only was she sharp and strong, she knew the theme from Shaft as well, and not the stupid version with Mr. Snakes on a Plane, the authentic Richard Roundtree film.

              “Simone, can you help me move this stuff downstairs, I want to take it with us when we go. It’ll be invaluable for trading!”

              “Sure, Let’s get it done today, so we don’t have to come up tomorrow.”

We spent the next two hours moving Ahmed’s gifts to my section of the warehouse. By the time we finished, we were covered in the gray dust that is common to most warehouses. I offered Simone a chance to clean up, and she jumped at it. I showed Simone the shower and gave her a towel and some soap. While she showered I set up the cots and radioed Cambridge to give them a status report.

I set up the long-range antenna and made my call, “Bravo one to C-bridge, Bravo one to C-bridge how’s my signal?”

Mitch answered back, “Bravo one you are loud and clear, what is your situation, over.”

“We have made it to the honey pot and have acquired additional consumables, I hope you have a big transport, over.”

Mitch came on the radio, “You won’t believe what I was able to cobble together, we got ourselves some grand surprises coming your way.”

“Excellent, I estimate eight to nine K of consumables, can you handle that?”

“That and more my friend! We cleaned out the store already, and it worked like a charm. A crew of six took about 120 to load the truck!”

“So, Mitch’s supplies were collected…excellent," I thought to myself.

“C-bridge, I have to advise you that the honey pot is surrounded by hostiles, so we have to be ready for a strike. I think they’re going to let you in, but not let us leave. Bring the fifty and a couple of bottle rockets along, that should take care of any opposition.”

“I’ll do you one better Bravo one, I will bring some extra tricks from our last little party, that should keep them busy and off our backs.”

“I like the way you think…..what is your ETA at my location?”

“Let’s call it Fowl or Finch, be ready!”

Mitch just told me that they would be there around four or five am, leaving us less than 12 hours for sleep and setup.

“Ok. Just to let you know I have a second package with me, they’re taking up with Cambridge.”

“That’s great to hear! I know somebody up here that is going to be jumping for joy when they hear that. C-Bridge out!”

I shut off the radio and packed it away. Simone returned with a happy look on her face, “Man that shower made me feel like a new woman! I’m ready for some food and a little rest!

“Roger that, after I take a shower we’ll do that. I got lots to tell you, let’s do it over our meal.”

“Sounds good. Enjoy your shower!”

I collected up my things and made my way to the shower situated in the back of the warehouse. It was a gang style shower left over from an unsuccessful boxing gym a guy had set up out here about 5 years ago. As I passed a low window, I noticed a shadow of a man walking between the buildings. I heard his footsteps and the man mumbling to himself. I flattened myself against the wall and waited for him to pass an access door. I eased the access door open and tackled him from behind, driving him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him. I flipped him over and delivered a knockout punch to his face, and he went limp. I dragged him back into my room.

“Simone look what I found wandering around the buildings………my ex-partner’s spy!

“Good catch! You were right; that fuckhead is searching for us. Let’s kill this little fuck and dump him somewhere else in the complex to throw off the scent.”

“Man, you can be bloodthirsty when you want to be sister!”

“When protecting my own hide and the hides of my friends…..you can bet the house on it!”

“We just might kill this guy later, but I want to have a chat with him first. We need to know about Jerry’s plans for us.”

“Better plan than mine Ben, I’ll take care of him and you go off to shower.”

Simone tied him up tight with duct tape and watched over him while I took my shower.

When I returned to my room, I found Simone fully dressed in new fatigues and a brown military shirt standing over our guest.

“Ben meet Roland Harper.”

I ignored him for a moment, “You look rather fetching in tan my dear.”

“Can it honky! I didn’t think you would mind as my other stuff is just about shot.”

“Quite so. Mi casa es su casa.” I turned to our guest, “Unless I miss my guess you’re a spy for Jerry aren’t you?

Roland nodded, “Jerry sent me to find out what building you were in and report back. Man, when he heard you coming he went ballistic! He hates you, he thinks you’re a traitor and got him fired in Milwaukee. He was telling his inner circle that he is going to cut you to pieces and rape this woman you’re with until she’s dead.

“I suspected that Roland. Now what are we going to do with you? I can’t just let you walk out of here. I also suspect that Jerry has a nasty surprise waiting for my friends when they arrive…what do you know about that?”

Roland spoke, “Man, I’ll tell you what you want to know. Jerry is a psychopath and he runs the town like a concentration camp. People are too afraid to rise up against him, so they just take it! I want out. You give me a ride to Waukesha and put in a good word for me and I’ll help you get out of here.

“I’ll consider it based on what you have to tell me. So, what does he plan to do to my friends and me when they arrive?

“He is going to let them in and let you load the truck up with all of your supplies. Then he’s going to ambush you just before you leave and kill all of your people.  If you slip the ambush he plans to stop you at the roadblock at Highway Y.

I chuckled, “Really, that’s the plan General Jerry Custer came up with?”

“That’s about the size of it Ben. He is so obsessed with destroying you that he couldn’t come up with anything better!”

“Ok Roland, I believe you. But I still really don’t trust you. If you want out, I’ll help you, but you got to help us arrange the supplies here and load the truck. Also, I want you to walk me around and show me where Jerry plans to ambush us. I might just have a surprise for him.”

“Sure thing, I’ll take you now.”

Roland led us out of the building and walked us up a grassy hill that led away from the warehouse.  He pointed out a copse of trees that faced the garage door to my cache, “There is where they’ll come from, and there’s a trail that leads up through the woods to here. He figures that he can sneak up on you and shoot you from the woods.”

I looked down at my garage door and saw the wisdom of attacking from this point. They could hit both sides of the truck at once and wipe us out before we knew what hit us without damaging much of the cargo. Maybe it was a better plan that I gave Jerry credit for. I admonished myself not to underestimate my opponent again.

“Let’s get back and arrange the supplies for a quick load out. I have to make another radio call to home and let them know about this new development.” We returned to the cache and Simone and Roland set to work arranging the supplies for loading.

I called Cambridge and advised Mitch to have a sniper set up on The National Avenue bridge about 500 yards away from the roadblock with the .50 caliber rifle. He advised me that a convoy of Army personnel came to Cambridge to protect a valuable Historical site. When they heard the plan to get the supplies, they volunteered both soldiers and some interesting weapons for their use. They would be bringing along a 60mm mortar and a few HE rounds just in case. Most of the soldiers volunteered to do the supply run along with a few civilians, so Mitch was confident that our pickup should go without a hitch. I signed off confident in my friend’s optimism of our chances.

Once finished with the supply arrangement, we had a meal of canned meat, along with some MRE crackers and cheese spread. We also opened a bottle of Cruzan Blackstrap Rum and passed it amongst us.

We also learned more about Roland, apparently a little alcohol loosened his tongue more than any threats could. Roland was a high school history teacher dragooned into service by Jerry and his henchmen. He was basically a glorified gofer who got pushed into any duty they might need done on the spur of the moment. The only reason he had not headed for the hills sooner was because Jerry threatened that he would kill his diabetic and bedridden mother if the tried to run.

Roland laughed drunkenly, “ What Jerry doesn’t know is my poor mother passed on two days ago from lack of insulin. I wrapped her up and covered her with the fishing boat in the backyard. When you caught me Ben, I knew that with you I had a workable escape route. Jerry and his thugs would have caught me if I ran on foot and killed me on the spot.”

Simone looked at me with a degree of concern, “That’s terrible Roland, I’m sorry you lost your mom. I hope she went peacefully.”

Roland looked at Simone with glassy eyes, “I think she did, She seemed to just slip away right before my eyes. I knew that when her insulin ran out it would just be a matter of time, she knew it too.”

Roland began to weep, “Please understand, I’m sorry that my mother died this way, but there was no way I could get us out from under Jerry’s boot heel.” He covered his face in his hands and began to cry openly.

I went over to Roland and put my hand on his shoulder, “I think we all need some rest now, the truck should be arriving in about 6 hours…we need to be as rested as possible by then. Don’t take it personally Roland, but I have to tie you up again. I simply can’t risk you running off to Jerry and spoiling our plans.”

“I understand Ben.” He raised his hands up in front of him and I taped them back up. We put him on a chaise lounge I found in Ahmed’s storage room and taped him securely so there would be no possibility of escape.

Simone and I then to the cots and fell into a dreamless sleep, awaiting the arrival of our friends.

Chapter 26

I slept for about three hours and woke with a start. I saw Roland just where we left him tied to the chaise lounge and Simone off to my left sleeping on her cot. I noticed she placed her cot against the door, totally eliminating an escape route if Roland turned out to be a double-crosser. I went over to my gear and checked out my personal combat load. From my cache I had replaced my Molle vest with a plate carrier that contained SAPI plates on the front and rear. I attached magazine pouches, my pistol holster and a small blowout kit to the vest. I switched out my rifle as well. I put up my AR-15 and switched to my short barrel AK-74. In America, this version of the AK is called the Krinkov, but Russian troops called it the cigarette butt, or more affectionately sushka, or “little bitch”. It was a nasty close in weapon that fired the “poison bullet”. The rounds were designed to strike a target and yaw upwards, causing a massive wound, which meant that one shot usually finished the target. The round also had a piece of hardened steel incorporated into it, allowing it to penetrate a quarter inch of armor plate at 400 meters. Because the round was a bit smaller that the AR-15’s, I was able to carry two additional magazines on my vest, bringing my total round count to 360. I tried it on for size and made the proper adjustments so that I could move freely in it and set it aside. I disassembled my weapon and gave it a light coating of oil on the moving parts to ensure it would operate flawlessly. Once completed, I made a cup of coffee for myself and began to wait.

Meanwhile……..

              Jerry woke from a fitful sleep. He hadn’t heard anything from Roland since he sent him to find Ben and his whore, which was unusual. He had Roland so scared that it was unlikely that he would just go home after his recon without filling him in first. He decided to get up and see if Roland had reported to any of the others. He walked over to the police building and entered the office of his night watch commander. Jack Benson had his feet up reading the same Swank Jerry was reading before. This annoyed Jerry, first that it was his pornographic  magazine, and second that it appeared that Jack was falling down on the job. Jerry grunted loudly and Jack looked over the edge of the magazine. Jack jumped out of his chair and stood up at attention.

“Jerry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

              “Really? I didn’t notice. What’s happening? Did Roland come back to the office and report as to the whereabouts of Ben?”

              “No, he didn’t. Do you want me to go over to his house and wake him up?”

              “I don’t think he’s there. He either got captured or killed by Ben, or he lit out of town when I wasn’t looking.”

“Do you think that little faggot would do that? He is scared of his own shadow, and he’s absolutely terrified of you.”

“Maybe, I can’t be everywhere. Round up some men and hit the trail leading to the warehouse. We got to find Ben and his bitch. For right now we watch. Let them load this truck of theirs for us, then attack them! Remember, I want Ben and his woman alive,  you can kill the rest.

“I’ll round up some men and get on it right away.”

“Jack, go with them. I want at least one brain on this project. It’s important we seize the truck in one piece, and even more important we get Ben and his bitch alive, is that clear?”

The look on Jerry’s face was all Jack needed to see,  barely concealed rage and uncontrolled hatred when his boss thought of his ex-partner, “Understood Jerry. Let me get to rounding those men up.”

Jack retreated from the office and Jerry claimed his seat, picked up the Swank and began to fantasize about what Ben’s woman was going to go through at his hands.

Jack rounded up three of his men from the night patrol and briefed them on what they were going to do. They set off towards the trailhead, about a half-mile from the police station. As they entered the woods, one of Jack’s men used a red lens G.I. angled flashlight to navigate in the almost pitch black forest. After an hour’s walk, the group reached the trailhead and settled in for a long wait.

“All right boys, let’s watch for a while. Remember Ben and the black girl are not to be touched, Jerry wants them both alive. Don’t shoot the truck if you can avoid it, Jerry wants it in one piece. Don’t fuck this up, Jerry will have our hides if we do. The small group settled in to wait for their prey to arrive, visions of supplies dancing in their heads.

On the Road From Waukesha…..

Mitch frowned as he hurtled down Highway Y. He was creeped out by the town of North Prairie on the road to Waukesha. Although it was about two blocks long, the town itself was burned to the ground. He saw no signs of life and was happy to be through it. He didn’t want to give up that second Panhead to Waukesha…but a deal was a deal. They left Waukesha and quickly arrived at the first New Berlin checkpoint.  The head guard, a man named Gillespe, welcomed them. Mitch didn’t like the smile or the demeanor of the Gillespe, it appeared he could barely conceal the face that they were walking into a trap. Mitch mused that the soldiers that came with him dressed as civilians would help even the match up a bit.  Lieutenant James Bride sat in the passenger seat of the massive wheeled monstrosity affectionately named Truckasauras. It was a 1979 Mack Bobtail. Mitch had found it in a local junkyard and was able to bring it back to life with the help of a few local mechanics. When the engine turned over after years of slumber Mitch smiled widely and began to believe that they might just be able to pull it off. His confidence grew after a successful mission to retrieve his supplies from the store. He had outfitted it with some hillbilly armor and attached a cattle car trailer. All in all, it would fit all of Ben’s gear with some space left over for seating. He bought five additional soldiers for security and three citizens of Cambridge to act as loaders. The soldiers would help load in a pinch, but primarily be responsible for security as loading operations were conducted. As they approached within a half-mile of the National Avenue bridge Ben told them about, Mitch slowed and then stopped.  Lieutenant Bride prepared to move. He carried Mitch’s sniper rifle with him and was responsible for keeping Jerry’s forces pinned down while he made for the cache.

Lieutenant Bride and his small detachment of men arrived in Cambridge the day after Ben had left. Since his unit had no contact with Central Command, plans had been drafted to put the military to good use maintain order and securing critical sites across the area of operations.  His commander, Brigadier General Lucius Marquardt opened the sealed file with “Contingency Plan: SE WI” written on it. After reviewing the contents he met with his commanders and issued instructions.

Lt. Bride’s unit was tasked to protect the Matt Kenseth Museum located in Cambridge, Wisconsin. Apparently, thought Lt. Bride, NASCAR was important around these parts, important enough to send a detachment of soldiers to protect the building from looters. Lt. Bride question the strategic value of the museum, but he was a soldier, and he would obey the orders from higher command. He was able to liberate a horse-drawn carriage from a local farm and a draft horse and use it to transport him and his unit’s equipment to their objective. The townspeople welcomed the soldiers with open arms and made every effort to accommodate them. After overhearing the plan from the wizard known as Mitch, he threw his resources behind the objective, first practicing the run by getting the remainder of Mitch’s supplies, and now going for another large cache held by Mitch’s friend Ben outside of Milwaukee.

His mind snapped back to the job at hand. He exited Truckasauras along with four of his men, Jindal, Kenner, Rousch, and Clark and they made their way up the embankment to the highway bridge.  Clark and Rousch pulled security at each end of the bridge, and Jindal and Kenner set up the mortar tube and sighted the roadblock. Bride dialed in the scope of Mitch’s rifle and switched it to infra-red. The white blooms of human beings revealed themselves milling about the roadblock. The distance meter on the high tech scope said that they were 650 meters from the first emplacement.

Bride whispered over his shoulder, “Ready to rock?”

Jindal smiled in the dark, “Ready to wake up the town on your command.”

“Send them.”

              The metallic clank of the 60mm mortar falling down the tube as well as the loud “THOOMP” and whistle as the mortar fired and fell towards its target was music to Brides’s ears. The mortar landed right in the middle of the first emplacement, utterly destroying it. Men screamed in pain as the metal fragments shredded them, and the uninjured began to fire in all directions, unsure of where the attack was coming from. A second mortar landed and destroyed the emplacement holding the communications gear as well as the spare weapons stored there.

Brides knew it was his turn to get into the fight. He sighted a lone man firing wildly and sent a 750-grain bullet streaking towards him. The man literally exploded from the energy of the bullet, his torso separating from his legs and falling to the pavement.

Jindal and Kenner packed up the mortar tube and ran to the underside of the bridge, soon joined by Rousch. They boarded the truck and Mitch blew through the destroyed roadblock and headed towards the cache. Brides and Clark remained perched on the bridge to deal with anybody who came to the ruined roadblock and also deal with the personnel coming from the first roadblock.

Back at the police station……

              The massive booms rocked the dozing Jerry out of his chair. He heard the staccato rattle of rifles as they fired to repel the invading force. He grabbed his rifle and vest and headed out the door. He ran towards the roadblock like the devil himself was chasing him, but due to his poor cardio routine, the run only lasted about 500 yards. He slowed to a fast walk, cursing and hoping that there were still some defenders at the roadblock left alive. The trip from the police station took an agonizing 25 minutes, and upon arrival, he saw several of his men lying on the ground dead from what appeared to be explosions of some type.

Al Jonson limped towards Jerry using a stick as an improvised crutch.

              “Boss, we got hit by something big! We were just watching the road and BOOM! The first bunker exploded, then the other one did! Then that truck you were talking about came through the roadblock. We fired a few rounds at it, but it’s armored.”

              Jerry cringed at the report, “Tell me something I don’t know smart guy!” He thought to himself.

              “Al, go get some additional men and shore up this roadblock as best as you can. If we can’t stop them at the warehouse, we’ll get another chance here, got it? I’ll stay here and hold the fort!”

              “You got it Jerry!”

              “Good man, now snap to it!”

At the truck…..

Mitch picked up the three soldiers and sped through the roadblock and to the cache. He figured that if Ben had set up the supplies as planned, they would be out of the cache in less than 30 minutes and back on the road. He followed the directions given to him by Ben and arrived at a large garage door a few minutes later. He backed the truck up, and the garage door opened to accommodate the truck. Mitch saw Ben in his side mirror and laughed loudly. Mitch shut the truck down and exited, meeting Ben halfway along the trailer. Mitch grabbed Ben in a bear hug and exclaimed, “Ben! It’s great to see you!

“Same here old timer! I got the stuff laid out like you asked, let’s get this shit loaded!”

“You got it! I’ll stay in the cab and keep the motor running so we can split!”

“Good deal!”

Simone and Roland were in the trailer while the soldiers and the citizens formed a human chain to move the gear. I was amazed at the smoothness of the loading process; it looked like there was a conveyer belt moving the stuff to the truck. The movers grunted at the heavier loads, but for the most part, it went smoothly. I took the place of one of the soldiers in the chain.

“Hey, go cover Mitch. I’d like to have at least one gun out there!”

“You got it!” The soldier hefted his weapon and disappeared outside to provide cover to Mitch.

After about 30 minutes of heavy lifting, we were almost finished with the loading process. I estimated that we had about five minutes more and then it would be goodbye New Berlin!

The chatter of an AR-15 broke my reverie. We were under attack!

“Keep loading!” I shouted to the workers in the chain and grabbed my rifle and ran to reinforce Mitch and the soldier. As I exited the warehouse, I could see the soldier taking cover behind a boulder returning fire towards the tree line where Roland pointed out Jerry’s ambush spot. I saw Mitch crouched behind another boulder pulling the pin of a hand grenade. Bullets skipped all around him in the gravel. I took cover behind the corner of the building and let loose with my rifle. The ferocity of the attack slackened for a moment, and then picked up as they found my muzzle flash and concentrated their fire on my position.  I tried to move from my covered position, but the attackers had me pinned down, if I moved, I would be shot to pieces in seconds.

As I crouched in my covered hiding place, I heard a massive “BOOM” and then two more explosions of similar volume. I took a peek and saw that Mitch and the soldier threw some grenades, obliterating the attacking force. I dashed from cover and made my way to Mitch.

“Well, enough of this party, let’s get the fuck out of here!” We all got up and made a beeline for the truck. I got in the cab with Mitch, and everyone else loaded up into the back and sat among the rows of supplies.

Mitch cranked the starter, and the truck roared to life. He jammed the gearshift into first, and we were moving. We slowly built speed up as we crested the hill and quickly came into the sight of the roadblock. There were several people milling about the destroyed area.

I spotted Jerry directing the crowd to action. When he heard the engine of the truck, he turned and began firing on us. I heard the ineffective handgun rounds ricochet off of the improvised armor plate and said to Mitch, “Run that fucker down!”

Mitch nodded and pressed down on the gas pedal and pulled the air horn, which emitted a loud foghorn-like noise.  Jerry stood stock still bathed in the headlights. The truck didn’t even slow down as my former partner and nemesis was ground into red jelly by the speeding tires of Truckasauras.

As we pulled out of New Berlin, a cheer rose from the trailer portion of the truck. After a quick stop at the bridge to pick up our security element, we made a beeline for Waukesha. As we passed the first roadblock into New Berlin, I noticed a few bodies line up neatly along the roadside; It looked like our security element took care of our exit while we were packing.

Upon arrival at Waukesha, Jeff escorted us through town on his brand new Panhead. Eagle let us through with a minimum of fuss after getting their supply allotment, leaving Palmyra for a last stop. We had to stop there for fuel and a little rest. As Mitch supervised the fueling of the truck, Vilos and his son appeared. After being squeezed nearly to death by Vilos, he presented us with a barrel of his Pith Helmet IPA as a reward for a job well done.

“Ben, good to have you back! I’m happy you pulled it off!

“Thanks Vilos, we couldn’t have done it without your help! Did you get the supplies we promised?”

“Sure did! We have it all stored up. For the first time, I can look at winter and not feel like it will be a miracle if we make it. Mitch has agreed to come back to town and help us with getting some vehicles back in working order. So far we have a few candidates, but I’ll leave it up to Mitch to decide when he returns.”

Mitch came up to us, “We’re ready to go Ben. I know somebody that wants to see you ASAP in Cambridge, so let’s get going.”

Vilos grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously, “Come back and see us soon Ben, thanks so much for your help!”

“I’ll do that Vilos, until then, goodbye!”

We boarded the truck and made the hour long drive back to Cambridge in silence. The adrenalin had now totally worn off, and a bone tired feeling began to creep into everybody. When we saw the outer roadblock loom in the distance, Mitch activated the horn, and the barricade moved aside. We passed the roadblock and heard the cheers of the guards. We had made it home with enough supplies to cover us for winter. Beyond that, I was unsure, but I knew that in this part of the world towns were standing up again and making pacts with one another for mutual aid and protection. I hoped that by spring, most of our region would have some larger compact binding all of the towns together, but that was going to take greater minds than mine. I was happy to be back in my new home.

As we pulled up in front of the Police station, a large crowd had gathered to meet us. When Mitch killed the engine, a loud cheer rose up from the crowd. Elaine pushed her way through the crowd and leapt into my arms, smothering my face with kisses. Grinker was not too far behind her, and he swept Simone up in a bear hug and kissed her deeply. She nuzzled into the big police officer.

“Simone what have you been hiding from me girl?”

“I didn’t want anyone to know, but when I saw this big hunk of a man for the first time, I about melted!”

Elaine turned my head towards her, “Hey, remember me Ben!” She kissed me hard and whispered in my ear “Let’s go home, I need to welcome you back properly!”

“Yes Ma’am!” I walked away from the crowd holding my lover’s hand, knowing that although we had a hard winter ahead of us, I knew deep down that the foundation is laid for the town’s survival. For the first time in a long time, I had hope in my heart that we would pull through and take the lessons we learned from this tragedy and create a place worthy of our children. We have a second chance, and I was determined to make a land where our children could live in peace.

THE END

EPILOGUE

One Year Later

I was right about Winter. It was hard, but not terrible.  Most people had a hard time adjusting to living like pioneers, with no central heating and the other conveniences that made living in the Northern Tier of the U.S tolerable during the winter months. We lost some members of the town to disease and other infirmities that modern medicine would have addressed with little difficulty but for the most part, we came through unscathed. About 90 days after The Event, as we began to call it, we stopped seeing roving bands of raiders and refugees. The lack of food and shelter greatly weakened these poor souls and led to a massive die off of humanity the world over. Mitch estimated that the world population was now well under a billion people, and those remaining billion had lots of challenges to face. I thought that if they were strong and lucky, they were the progenitors of a new breed of mankind.

I was elected to Chief of Police after my wife was elected to head the town council.  Things pretty much quieted down in our little corner of the world. We had security and aid pacts with the majority of towns in the area, and there was talk over the radio of the state re-organizing itself under a simpler set of rules that stressed personal responsibility and fairness without regard to religion, color or any other special category. The legal code was drastically simplified, and older forms of punishments such as restitution, service and the noose came back into fashion. People were tired of accepting excuses for criminal behavior and used old-fashioned punishment to mete out justice. It worked well too; Jails were virtually non-existent, and reserved for people awaiting trial. Essentially everyone worked; nobody slacked off and demanded resources for nothing.  People were free to start businesses with little interference from the government in an effort to re-start the economy. 

The old political parties were a thing of the past, and work, self-reliance, and honesty were the new buzzwords when it came to governance.  As time passed and Government reformed,  the constituency demanded that members selected to this new government could only serve two four-year terms as a legislator. If they were elected to the presidency, they served one six-year term. The overly confusing and unnecessary common core got abolished in favor of basic Math, Science, Reading and History. Civics became a central part of standard education models so everyday citizens could understand how government worked and was prepared to be a member of the government if they wished to be.  The new government had curbs to power and influence installed so no special group such as lawyers could take over and bring us to the brink again with their short-sightedness and greed. Simone and Grinker were elected by the town to be our first representatives to the re-forming state, and by all accounts, they were known as shrewd and fair-minded legislators. By the end of August, we began to reap the benefits of the compact between towns, and ended up with a surplus of food that went into storage for emergencies.

We never heard from any representatives of the old Federal Government. We supposed that they locked themselves away from the world and were still hiding. Some in the town expected an invasion of FEMA shock troops or a foreign power when everything settled down. But the only people we saw were the merchants plying the new trade routes and representatives from the surrounding towns who came to solidify defense and trade pacts. I always thought that when the remnants of the old Federal system emerged from their plush bunkers and attempted to regain control, they would find a different people, with different ideas on how to run things in the places they chose to abandon.  I mused that it would probably be an interesting meeting……

Victor Marbury returns with his second novel……The Circuit Caper. Release date August 2014

Exclusive preview

November 1, 2015 Manchester, New Hampshire             

The service door on the second floor of the parking garage opened and a beautifully coiffed head sporting long black locks and perfectly made up face poked out and surveyed the empty space. The cold air struck Lily like a sledgehammer, causing an involuntary shiver. Believing that the coast was clear, Lily made her way to the south stairwell, where she knew a taxi was waiting for her. Her stiletto-heeled patent leather boots sent harsh clacking sounds off the concrete walls as she tried to hurry to her destination. 

“Goddamned dress!” She thought to herself. The black dress she was wearing was custom made for her of the finest Italian leather and clung to her lovely form like a second skin, but also slightly hobbled her due to it’s snug fit, slowing her progress to the stairwell.

              She was wearing a Burberry trench coat with matching scarf and carried an oversize bag, which she clutched like her life depended upon it. In the bag, she had a change of clothes along with her passport and $125,000 in cash she had just stolen from her pimp. She knew there was no going back, once they found the money was missing she would become the most likely suspect.  Her absence would confirm her guilt to the powers that be. She knew she had less than 25 minutes to pull this little caper off and get in that taxi, or she would be caught and killed in a very unpleasant manner.

As she crossed the parking lot, her mind went over what she had just done. She had left her client early after fixing him a drink spiked with GHB. He was resting comfortably in the bed, hopefully dreaming of having his pantied ass spanked by Mistress Lily. She made her way to the adjoining room where the cash from the gathering at Xanadu was collected and hit Luther, the bodyguard, on his head with the lead sap she had recently purchased to add to her mistress equipment. Luther collapsed to the floor in a muscular heap, and she grabbed the bag containing the cash, concealing in her oversized bag and fled the room. She then deftly made her way to the service elevator and down to the second floor parking garage.

She knew that the probability that the lookouts would still be at their posts was low, as her client was the last of the evening. She figured the lookouts were more than likely clustered in the bar thinking about the cash they would get later in the evening.  “Never underestimate the power of greed and laziness," she thought to herself as she crossed the final parking area to the stairwell.

She entered the stairwell and made it to the ground level in seconds flat despite her restrictive clothing. The taxi was waiting for her just where she had asked for, its motor running. She jumped into the back seat and said in her best mistress voice, “How would you like to make $200.00?”

The cabbie looked in his rear view mirror, “You Lily?”

“Yes, good sir. So, would you like to make $200.00?”

“What do I gotta do for it?”

“Take me to Logan Airport, and then forget it ever happened.”

“Shit, for $200 I’ll drive you there twice!” He put his cab into gear and made his way down South Willow St. to I-293 South at a good clip.

Just as the cab was pulling away from the curb, Vinnie Stampone stepped out of the bar to have a smoke. He looked up from his match and saw a cab pulling away with a woman inside that looked a lot like Lily. He thought she was upstairs finishing with a client, but he knew faces, and that was Lily pulling away in that cab. He memorized the details of the cab including the number before heading upstairs and checking with his boss Xavier Smith.  Lily’s client, -along with Luther-, were discovered in short order, and Vinnie provided Victor with the cab information.  Xavier picked up the phone and made some calls. The first call was to the cab company, and the second call was to the Senator. Xavier knew what the Senator would say when he found out about the theft and the identity of the actor. One thing Xavier learned while working for the Senator was that you didn’t fuck with the proceeds from his business venture, if you did, you were guaranteed to be on the night train to oblivion.

Xavier dialed the private number, and a pleasant voice with a slight New England accent answered “Yes?”.

“Sir, it’s Xavier. I’m afraid we have had some trouble with one of the ladies. It appears that Lily knocked out her client and then attacked Luther rendering him unconscious by striking him on the head. She made off with the Xanadu profits and fled. We know she fled in a cab, and I am getting that information now on the cab and destination. I know that this might seem foolish of me to ask, but when we catch up to her, what would you like us to do? I think she is a valuable asset…….after all she is one of our most competent and exotic specialists.”

The Senator cut Xavier off, “I agree, but you know the first rule, if you disrupt the cash flow, you are no longer of any value to the organization. When you find her, kill her!”

Xavier frowned, “Yes sir, it will be taken care of.”

“Good, keep me posted.  Oh, and Xavier, I don’t think I have to remind you what will happen if we don’t catch up to her in short order, do I?

“No sir, you don’t”

“Excellent. Goodnight Xavier."

“Goodnight sir.” Xavier hung up the phone and looked at Vinnie, “Find out where that cab is going  and identify the driver, we need some leverage and quick!”